Love at First Bark

by Debbie Burns

  Focus, dumbass. She could have alcohol poisoning.

  Her eyes fluttered open as her fingertips connected with skin. “Oh God. That’s awkward. I think… I guess…” She still hadn’t attempted to lift her head off the floor, making it clear she was miserable.

  “Your sweater’s on the floor. Want me to get it for you?”

  “No, it’s too hot. A T-shirt or something. From my room.”

  She’d been sleeping in her grandparents’ old room, so Ben headed in there. Ollie was in Mia’s childhood room. Ben knew from the couple times he’d picked Ollie up over the last few months. She’d given both rooms a fresh coat of paint and new decorations, but Ben was still itching to offer to help her remodel some of the dated fixtures and appliances if she planned to stay here. Running his architecture firm, he’d established connections with remodelers. He could make it happen easily.

  He sorted through her closet and chose a soft, light-green V-neck T-shirt.

  “I owe you a new back door,” he said, returning with the shirt. He knelt, balancing on the balls of his feet. “Can you sit up?”

  She nodded but didn’t move. Seconds ticked away. Her eyes were closed, and he suspected she was drifting off again.

  He closed a hand over her bare shoulder. Even though he did his best not to notice, her skin was enticingly smooth. “Mia, can you sit up?”

  When she replied that she could, but didn’t make an attempt to do so, Ben slipped his hand under her arm and pulled gently, encouraging her upward.

  She shook her head.

  “Hey, no falling back to sleep.” Dropping her arm, he switched tactics and slid his hands under her torso. He lifted her gently, slowly, but even so, as soon as she was in a sitting position, she waved him away.

  “I’m gonna puke.”

  He made a dash for the bathroom and the small trash can at the side of the sink. When he returned, she was on her hands and knees, shaking her head.

  “This was a bad idea.”

  “You’ll feel better if you can get it out.” He sank next to her again and closed a hand over the small of her back, running his thumb in slow circles over her smooth skin. It’d be easier to focus once she was ready to pull on the shirt, but asking her to do that right now would be cruel.

  On the other side of the room, Sadie whined softly. Once Mia was in a better space, he’d let them both out to use the bathroom. The puppy, whose crate was butted against his mother’s, was still fast asleep, sprawled on his back, his furry legs in the air.

  A minute or two passed, but Mia didn’t vomit. Ben swept her hair back and struggled to keep grounded in the moment. He returned to the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth from the smallest and shallowest linen closet he’d ever seen. He ran the washcloth under cold water, then squeezed out the excess. Mia’s skin had been hot, and she was sweating even though the temperature in the house had dropped dramatically—and he didn’t think that was just because the side frame had been ripped loose on the back door. It was thirty degrees outside, but for some reason, the heat wasn’t kicking on.

  When he returned, she was sitting back on her heels, eyes still closed. He knelt beside her and wiped her face clean.

  “Thanks,” she murmured.

  “Are you feeling good enough to get your shirt on?”

  Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked down. “Oh no. It’s so hot. I forgot. Yes.”

  As he helped her slip into it, it occurred to him that’d he’d never assisted a grown woman into her clothes. It was quite different from when he’d taken Ollie to play ice hockey and had had to help get him into his gear.

  Mia had hips and thighs that Ben wanted to lose himself between and breasts he wanted to savor with his mouth and hands, and it was close to impossible to ignore all that when he was helping slip a shirt over her head.

  “When I feel better, remind me to die of embarrassment.” Her words were still slow and slurred.

  “Why would I do that? You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. And even if you weren’t, there’s no reason to be embarrassed.”

  She opened her eyes more fully and stared hard, her head cocked sideways. “Was I awake just then? Did you really say that?”

  “Say what?” Ben repeated, a smile brushing his lips. He reached for her hand. “Come on. Let’s get you into bed. You’re coherent enough that I’m okay with letting you doze. I’ll wake you in twenty minutes and have you sip some water. Even if you don’t like it, I’m going to keep waking you for a while.”

  He tried to help her up, but halfway there, she shook her head. “I can’t.”

  Knowing she’d be better off in her bed than on the cold floor, Ben lifted her before she could protest. He carried her to the bedroom, wishing he’d thought to pull down the fluffy comforter first. However, as overheated as she felt, she wouldn’t be keen on lying underneath it.

  As soon as she was down, she curled into a pillow and mumbled her thanks. He jogged back into the living room and grabbed a throw blanket off the couch. He covered her despite her protests, knowing it was important not to let her body temperature drop. He left again, determined to figure out first what was wrong with the heat in this frigid house, then he’d take care of the dogs.

  Funny, he thought as he walked away. He’d come here ready to face an onslaught of questions and anger but had gotten neither. Not yet, at least. They were certainly still coming when she sobered up, and he’d face them. Learning about Brad’s infidelity had all but severed his and Brad’s friendship when he’d learned about it in July. He could tell her how much he didn’t approve and how angry he’d been.

  But Ben couldn’t explain why he’d not been able to trust that telling her this would’ve been in her best interest. He didn’t know how to separate it from the fact that he loved her, that he’d loved her for a long, long time. And how could he trust that telling her wouldn’t simply be serving his own best interest?

  So he’d tabled it. After hours of tortured thought, he’d convinced himself that not learning the truth yet was better as Mia focused on helping Ollie get over losing his dad.

  But for tonight, unexpectedly, he could savor being with her and not feeling as if he needed to lock a part of himself in a vault simply to keep her from noticing how much he loved her. And that was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time.

  Chapter 13

  From not far away, a single shrill bark jerked Mia from the doze she’d slipped into. Her head pounded against her temples, and her stomach was a sea of nausea and sharp cramps. Her body had become an inferno, boiling her from the inside out.

  It was torture to move a single inch, but she managed to roll up to a sitting position and braced herself on the edge of the bed. Moving would suck, but she stood up, moving with the care and precision of someone walking over a lake covered in thin ice, determined to at least brush her teeth, wash her face, and have a drink of water.

  Halfway across the bedroom, she made a dash for the toilet. Her head threatened to explode, but after sitting next to the porcelain bowl for a few minutes, her stomach began to settle.

  She was still facedown over the bowl when the sink faucet turned on, making her jump. For a second or two, she froze as she looked up to see a full-grown man a foot from her in the darkness. Then tiny flashes of memory returned. Ben had been here for the last few hours taking care of her, attentive and quiet and soothing.

  She’d let go of her anger at him. She was still a reeling mess about the baby, but she’d forgiven Ben for not telling her, even though she couldn’t remember his explanation for holding out on this impossibly momentous news. Oh well. She’d revisit it with him when she was sober.

  He’d been wetting a washcloth. After squeezing out the excess water, he swept her hair aside to drape it over the back of her neck.

  The single short strip of cool moisture was welcome relief to the i
nferno still inside her. “Thanks. You’ve no idea how good that feels.”

  Aside from the faint-yellow light from a single night-light, it was dark in the bathroom and adjoining bedroom. Mia was glad Ben hadn’t switched on the overhead light. She sat back on her heels and accepted a second washcloth to wipe her face. “Ollie hasn’t woken up, has he?”

  “No, he’s out like a bear in winter.”

  This brought a smile to her face. “When he was a toddler, he fought going to sleep, but not anymore.” Ben knelt beside her and refolded the washcloth at her neck so that a fresh, cool side touched her skin. A soft moan of pleasure escaped. “I don’t remember being this hot from the inside out before. That was the stupidest thing I’ve done in years.” Gathering her strength, she pushed up onto her feet and leaned over the sink, first running her hands, wrists, and arms under cool water. Then she loaded her toothbrush with toothpaste and brushed away the acrid taste in her mouth. It was weird brushing her teeth in front of Ben. Intimate.

  When she was finished, Mia felt a bit better. The world was still spinning and her ears were buzzing, making her suspect she was still a bit drunk. “What time is it?”

  “Close to one. I heated up some chicken broth and a cup of mint tea. I know you’re hot, but both are supposed to be good for a hangover. I can bring them to you in bed, or you can try the couch. You wanted to head there before you fell back to sleep last time.”

  “The couch would be nice.”

  A rush of surprise swept through her as his arm locked around her waist, drawing her against him and guiding her out of the room.

  His body was unfamiliar and foreign and alarming in a pleasant way. He had a mountain climber’s physique, lithe and strong, with muscles toned naturally rather than from a weight-lifting routine. That much was obvious just looking at him. But feeling his strength against her was disarming.

  In the living room, the overhead light was off as well, but two lamps were on. It was light enough that it occurred to her she probably looked like death warmed over. As she cautiously sank against the corner of her grandparents’ distressed leather couch, she realized she was wearing a pair of gym shorts and a green T-shirt she hadn’t been wearing when she’d put Ollie to bed.

  Her surprise must have been noticeable, because Ben said, “You, uh, had to pee about an hour ago and didn’t want your jeans back on.”

  His words sparked a single flash of memory. She’d been standing in the bathroom and stepped uninvited against him. She’d tucked her head into the crook of his neck, feeling the wash of comfort when those strong arms finally closed around her in return.

  How long had he held her? She didn’t remember anything beyond that. No wonder he’d been so comfortable helping her to the couch. She’d already thrown her drunk self into his arms. And please God, say she hadn’t undressed in front of him.

  He headed into the kitchen and came back carrying the broth and tea on a snowman serving tray she’d had displayed on the counter. After sliding a coaster out of the way, he placed the tray at her side.

  She crossed her legs and cautiously sipped the tea. It cradled her aching belly, so she took another sip. Ben took a seat in the middle of the couch, a respectful foot of leather cushion between them.

  “That baby has to be six months old, and all night I kept doing the math.” Her voice pitched in anger, stirring her splitting headache. “He didn’t tell me he slept with her because he felt guilty. He told me he slept with her because he knew he’d fathered a child. He would’ve taken a DNA test by then. If he even had any doubt.”

  The muscles in Ben’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing in Brad’s defense.

  “The other day you told me he loved me.” It didn’t matter that her head felt like it could explode. She needed to say this. “You were either lying, or you were wrong. He didn’t love me the way you’re supposed to love the person you’re with. Honestly, I didn’t love him that way either anymore. So maybe it shouldn’t hurt so bad, but it does. Even if we were together for Ollie, that doesn’t mean I didn’t make sacrifices. I was the glue that helped keep him together the last couple years, and he screwed some twenty-year-old kid. And now she has a baby. A half brother to Ollie.”

  The tears that had been building slipped over her lids. She wanted to weep—to outright sob away the pain—but somehow she contained herself. Her head might possibly explode if she didn’t. Instead, tears slipped out as if from a faucet that hadn’t been shut off all the way.

  “I’m sorry, Mia.” Ben closed a hand over the back of her head and stroked her temple with the side of his thumb. Once again, his touch was immensely comforting.

  “That damn baby.” She swiped away her silent tears. “Before I knew anything tonight, before she said she had something for me to read, when I thought she was just a kid in a tacky sweater, I saw that baby. He looked at me, and I felt this crazy connection. I guess it was because he looks a bit like Ollie, but he looked right at me and smiled, and I had this feeling that I never knew existed before I had Ollie. Like it wouldn’t be hard to go to the ends of the earth to protect him.”

  Before she became conscious she was doing it, Mia returned the mug to the tray and curled into Ben, only without her usual reserve. She pulled close and locked her arms around his torso, burying her face in his chest. Her legs even landed on top of his.

  As she remembered them doing earlier, his arms closed around her more hesitantly. Mia didn’t care. She savored the comfort of them more than any blanket or pillow could give her. Her tears continued to flow unabated, soaking into his shirt.

  “What should I do?” she asked, her voice muffled in his chest. “Tell me what to do. It’d be so much easier if Brad were alive. I could tell them all to go to hell. Only he’s not, and now Ollie has a brother and I don’t know what to do.”

  Ben’s cheek pressed against the top of her head. “What you’re going to do tonight is recover. You have time. Neither Stacey nor that baby are going anywhere. And right now, you’re still a little drunk. You’ll be able to think about it more clearly in the morning.”

  She pulled back enough to look at him. She swiped the tears from her cheeks with the angled slit at the neck of her T-shirt. “Do you want to know a secret?”

  Ben shook his head. “No, not tonight. Tomorrow, if you still want to tell me.”

  Mia wasn’t deterred. “I was going to break up with him before I got pregnant with Ollie. I was in it, but I wasn’t in it, you know? But the condom ripped and I was late, so I took a test and it was a yes, and later when I told my mom I was going to marry him, she said if I betrayed my heart, then surely it would betray me. She always says crap like that. Crap you can’t understand, so of course you remember it. You know what I mean?”

  Rather than answer, he brushed the tears from her cheeks, then let his fingertips trail along the wetness lining her jaw and down to the hollow of her neck.

  Mia wanted an answer, but all she got were his somber brown eyes boring into her. In the space of his silence, it was easy, too easy, to lean in and press her lips against his. And like when she’d pulled against him, he wasn’t quick to respond. It was just her, one second tumbling into another, kissing him, savoring the strength and suppleness of his lips, the shape and feel of the ridge of his jaw in her hand, the shaved short whiskers against her palm.

  Her courage came from the wine. She knew that. She was somewhere between fading drunk and hungover, and none of her usual reservations kept her from crawling on top of him in search of more.

  Finally, he responded as she sank atop him. His mouth opened against hers, creating an inferno of want and longing inside her.

  She’d been married for a couple months the first time she saw Ben, and her heart had slammed against her chest at the sight of him. Maybe it had been because she’d always had a thing for guys with dark hair and brown eyes, or maybe it had been because of the controlled, quiet ai
r he had about him, but he did it for her. He always had. She’d done her best to ignore it, but she’d wanted this for a long time.

  His hands closed over her hips, claiming them, and she ground against him without losing a beat in the kiss. She could feel his body pressing into hers. A few layers of unnecessary clothes were the only things that kept him from fitting perfectly into her.

  She was still overheated and her head pounded, but she wanted him, wanted to feel his mouth on her skin, wanted him inside her.

  And for a moment, she thought she’d be lucky enough to get it. One hand slid to the small of her back; the other got lost in her hair. His kiss strengthened, his mouth pressing hungrily against hers.

  Then, almost as abruptly as he’d responded to her, he was pushing her off him and crossing the room, dragging his hands through his hair. He made it to the breakfast nook at the front of the house adjacent to the kitchen and leaned both hands against the table. “No, Mia. We can’t. Tonight’s not going be our first time. It isn’t right. Not yet. Especially when you consider what brought me here tonight.”

  She was catching her breath and considering his words—all of them—when headlights pulling into the driveway shone onto his face, dulled only by the thin sheer in the front window. He let go of the table and stood up straight, watching the car pull in.

  From where Mia sat, she couldn’t see, but she waited silently, attempting to quell her racing heart and wondering who’d be pulling into her grandparents’ driveway in the middle of the night.

  And wondering what Ben had meant.

  She could hear the car idling outside. It didn’t make sense. No one would come here in the middle of the night. It was probably a wrong address. Or it’s Stacey. The kid looked like she was on the verge of a breakdown.

  “Are you expecting anyone?”

  “No. Do you think it’s Stacey?”

  “It’s a cab. Someone’s getting out of the back.” Mia heard a car door shut, and Ben’s face lit with surprise. “Not just someone. It’s your mother.”