She turned her head to look at him.
“Now you’ll think of this when you think of me.”
They’d spent most of the last twenty-four hours without a stitch on. But something about her eyes right now made Jessica seem more naked, more raw and vulnerable and exposed, than he’d ever seen her before.
“You’re afraid this has poisoned things somehow. You’re afraid that what your uncle did to you made you worthless and ugly and unlovable. You’re afraid that if someone finds out about it, it will change the way they see you.”
She nodded slowly. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Well, it has changed the way I see you—but not in the way you think.” He sat up to make his point. “I didn’t know how strong you were. How brave. I didn’t know you were a survivor. And now that I do know, I admire you more than you can imagine.”
She stared at him. “But I’m not strong. I’m not brave. I dealt with what happened to me by turning my back on everything I cared about. Everything I used to be.” She bit her lip. “I turned my back on you.”
“You did what you had to do. And it worked, Jess—because you’re still here. So thank God you did what you needed to. I’m grateful for all of it, because you survived. But, sweetheart . . . you don’t have to use the same tools you did when you were thirteen. You’re a grown woman now, brave and strong and beautiful, and he doesn’t have power over you anymore. Talking to people you trust—and to people who are trained to help—won’t make you weaker. It will only make you stronger.” Unable to stop himself from touching her, he reached out and ran the backs of his fingers over her cheek. “And telling your story won’t make anyone love you less. It will only make them love you more.”
A flush spread over her face, and he realized belatedly that he’d used the word love.
Well, damn. Talk about confusing an issue. Of course he loved Jessica—as a friend—but when you were buck-naked in bed with someone, you risked opening yourself up to misunderstanding when you used that word.
The last thing Jess needed to worry about was the possibility that he was falling in love with her. One of the reasons she’d asked him for help with her “problem” was the fact that he was moving to Chicago.
She didn’t want a relationship. She wanted a fling. A friends-with-benefits arrangement that would end when their trip did.
And considering everything that was going on in her life, she’d made the right call. She didn’t need emotional complications thrown into the mix. Jessica was rebuilding her life from the ground up. She should make decisions based on what was best for her, without regard to anyone else—and without a man putting romantic pressure on her.
Not that he would do that, of course. He wasn’t falling in love with Jessica. He cared about her, he admired her, he loved her as a friend—but that was all.
What happened in Bermuda would stay in Bermuda. That was the agreement they’d made, and he would stick to it.
“I’m sorry for pushing you on the therapy thing,” he said, wanting to put the “love” moment behind them and get the focus back where it should be. “I made the suggestion because I believe it can help, and because I thought you might be avoiding it when you don’t have to. That’s all.”
She seemed as ready as he was to move on. “I know,” she said. “And I promise I’ll consider it. And . . . I appreciate everything you’ve said.” She smiled a little tremulously. “I’m glad you pushed me, Ben. I think maybe I needed to be pushed.” She paused. “You’re a good man, you know. A really good man.”
He was probably overanalyzing, but that sounded like a consolation compliment. “I’m just being a friend.”
Her eyes searched his. “A friend,” she repeated. “Of course.”
There was a short silence—a strangely charged silence. Ben felt something building up in him, and he was half afraid to find out what it was.
He cleared his throat. “How would you feel about a midnight hot fudge sundae? Room service stays open twenty-four hours.”
She rose up on her elbows and smiled. “I think that’s the best idea I ever heard.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The rest of the trip went by much too quickly.
Every morning she woke up in Ben’s arms, suffused with warmth and security and tenderness—and a glow that came from incredible sex.
After basking in that glow a little while, the first thing she did was calculate the days they had left.
We still have five days.
We still have four days.
We still have . . .
Until, finally, it was the last morning.
Packing was a wrench, as was leaving the cottage for the last time. In ten days it had come to feel more like a home than any she’d ever known.
It wasn’t the space that made a home, she realized. It was what you felt when you were in it.
Returning their rented snorkel gear felt ridiculously sentimental. The two of them had spent hours swimming and snorkeling at different spots around the island.
Their luggage was stacked neatly by the front doors, ready for their departure, when they went into the restaurant for breakfast.
“This is the last egg-white omelet I’ll have in Bermuda,” she murmured, holding her plate out to the chef at the buffet line.
“What’s that?” Ben asked.
She shook her head. “I’m being silly. Ignore me.”
They carried their plates to a small table by the window—the table they thought of as “theirs.”
Ben stayed standing after he set his plate down. “Will you order coffee for me? There’s something I need to pick up.”
“Sure.”
The omelet was delicious. Jessica gazed out the window as she ate, noticing that it looked like it might rain later in the day.
It was impossible to think of rain without thinking of their first night here.
Not that she’d ever forget it.
Ben came back a few minutes later. He took his seat and handed her a small white box with the hotel’s gift shop logo stamped on it.
“Here you go,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for this to come in all week.”
He’d gotten her a present?
“But I didn’t get you anything.”
He smiled. “Buy my breakfast and we’ll call it even,” he said. “This is a tchotchke. It cost me eighteen bucks.”
She lifted the lid from the box and looked inside.
On a nest of white cotton lay a silver necklace with a blue enamel dolphin charm.
Ben reached out and turned it over, and she saw that it was engraved on the back.
JESSICA
“They had every other J name in stock,” he said. “Jill, Jane, Judy, you name it. But they were out of Jessicas. They ordered this for me, but I wasn’t sure it would get here in time.” He paused. “I picked it out after your day with the dolphins. I know the memories of your old necklace are complicated, but this one is for all your new memories.”
She took the necklace out and laid it on her hand. It wasn’t exactly like the one she’d worn as a girl, but it was similar.
“Hey,” Ben said, sounding concerned—which was when she realized she was crying.
“I’m sorry,” she said, grabbing her napkin and wiping her eyes. “I love it. It’s perfect. I just . . . wasn’t expecting a present.” She handed him the necklace and turned her head. “Would you put it on me?”
“I’m glad you like it,” Ben said as he fastened the clasp. “I thought about looking for something else, but—”
She turned around again and faced him, holding the charm against her heart with one hand. “You couldn’t have found anything better than this.”
A few hours later, they were on the plane heading back to New York.
What if she moved to Chicago?
When the idea had first occurred to her, it had seemed like a crazy fantasy. But every time it came back, she dwelled on it a little longer.
Now she found herself wonde
ring if it could be more than a fantasy.
It wasn’t like she had anything waiting for her in New York. Other than the possibility of a job with the Wildlife Foundation—a job she didn’t know much about yet—what was she going back to?
The aftermath of her disastrous wedding. Twitter hashtags and other humiliations. An empty apartment and her parents’ disappointment.
She hadn’t spoken with them since the day of the wedding. There had been some emails and texts back and forth, but the two times they’d called she’d let it go to voice mail.
She’d dreaded listening to the messages, but they weren’t as bad as she’d feared. Her mother’s voice was stiff but her words were kind, and her father had sounded positively sympathetic. Tom had met with them in person—he’d told her about that himself when he’d called—and she gathered that he’d taken the blame for everything. He’d also offered to repay them for the wedding costs, which had done a lot to earn their forgiveness.
Apparently that forgiveness was also going to extend to her, although they’d made it clear they still disapproved of her and Tom’s actions and would expect an apology once she got back to the city.
They’d also broached the idea of her selling the new apartment and moving back in with them. But after ten days in Bermuda with Ben, she knew she could never live with her parents again. Until the day came when she could share her life with someone, she would live alone.
The idea of living alone didn’t scare her anymore. Because of the strength Ben had helped her find, she was no longer afraid of who she was.
But of course, it would be even better to live with the man she loved.
Ben had come close to saying the words once, but even though he hadn’t voiced the sentiment out loud, she was sure of his feelings. She was sure he loved her.
If only he weren’t moving away, their relationship would have a chance to evolve organically. They could date for a while, like a normal couple . . . and then, when she felt ready, she could tell him she loved him.
Those words had always stuck in her throat. Her uncle had told her he loved her—one more way he’d taken something that was supposed to be beautiful and twisted it into something ugly. Her parents had told her they loved her, but their love had always come with expectations. Boyfriends had told her they loved her, but that had never stopped them from leaving.
If Ben told her he loved her, it would be different. If Ben said those words to her, she was sure she could say them back . . . eventually. If she had more time.
But they didn’t have time. Ben was moving away. He was going out of her life . . . unless something changed.
And of the two of them, she was the one who could most easily make a change. Her most important possession now was something she carried with her: a new determination to live her life with passion.
A determination that Ben had helped her find.
She was trying to think of a way to broach the subject when Ben gave her an opening.
He glanced up from his smartphone. “Did you know that there are dolphins at the Shedd Aquarium in Chicago?”
She blinked. “What?”
“I just looked it up.” He grinned. “So if you ever want to visit me, we’ll have something to do.”
She took her courage in both hands. “About that . . .”
He was looking at his phone again. “Yeah?”
“I was just thinking. Since I don’t really have any set plans . . . or, you know, commitments . . .” She took a breath. “Well, there’s no reason I have to figure out my next move in New York. I mean, I could look for a job anywhere. Like . . . say . . . Chicago.”
Her heart was beating so hard the rush of blood was like thunder in her ears.
Ben shook his head, his expression reassuring. “I know you’re kidding, but you shouldn’t worry about going back to New York.”
Okay, not the response she’d been hoping for. “But—”
“New York is your town, Jess. I know your last experience there was lousy, but that doesn’t mean you need to run away.” He smiled. “You don’t even have to joke about it.”
Ben thought she was joking. That’s how ridiculous the idea of her moving to Chicago seemed to him.
She bit her lip. “But you were the one who told me to run away. The night of the reception.”
“Sure, for a week or two. But now you’re ready for real life again. And you’re going to do great.”
Real life. As in life without Ben.
He couldn’t have made it clearer that what they’d had in Bermuda was over now. A wonderful interlude, but nothing more.
She was in the window seat again, and she was grateful for that now. She looked out at the endless blue sky and took a deep breath, disciplining herself not to show what she was feeling.
After a moment she was able to turn back to Ben with a smile.
“I hope so,” she said lightly.
He reached out and took one of her hands in his, and the way her body responded—a rush of heat and longing—was one more thing she had to hide.
“You don’t have to hope,” he said. “I’ve never believed in anyone more than I believe in you.” He squeezed her hand. “I know you’ve been making lists in your head. What are you going to do when you get back?”
She hadn’t been making lists. She’d been thinking about Ben and imagining a future with him.
But it turned out the only place that future would exist was in her imagination.
She had to get a grip on herself. What was she going to do when she got back home? What did she want to do?
She thought about it for a moment. And then she realized that she had an answer to that question.
“I’d like to spend more time with my sister. I’d like to spend more time with my friends, too, especially Kate and Simone. I’d like to talk to Everett about the job Tom mentioned—doing fund-raising for the Wildlife Foundation.” She paused. “And I’d like to look into the therapy thing. As a possibility.”
“That sounds like a pretty good plan to me,” Ben said.
When she looked at her watch, she saw that they were more than halfway to JFK. In less than an hour their trip would be officially over.
Ben threaded his fingers with hers. “I’ve got to say, though . . . I wish we could have stayed in Bermuda a little longer.”
She mustered up a smile. “Me too.”
He hesitated. “I swore to myself I wasn’t going to ask you this.”
Suddenly her heart was pounding again. “Yes?”
“I’ll be in New York for the rest of the summer. I’d love to keep seeing you, Jess—if that’s something you’re interested in.”
And just like that, her heart plummeted.
He wanted what they’d had in Bermuda: sex and friendship. He wasn’t trying to figure out a way they could have more than that—he wanted to keep doing what they’d been doing.
Well, why not? It was the best time she’d ever had in her life, and it was obvious Ben had had a pretty good time, too. She couldn’t blame him for suggesting they continue their arrangement for a few more weeks.
But she knew in her heart that it would be different now. Because now she’d want more. And the knowledge that Ben didn’t would cut like a knife.
“I don’t think so.”
He looked taken aback, and she realized she’d spoken more abruptly than she’d intended to.
“I just think . . . once we get back . . . I should focus on the future.”
Ben was silent for a moment. “Yeah,” he said. “Of course. That makes sense.”
Jessica turned her head to look out the window again.
She was suddenly conscious of the weight of her necklace. She was wearing a V-neck top, and the dolphin charm rested against her bare skin.
How had this happened? When they’d boarded the plane, she’d been as sure of Ben’s feelings—and her own—as she’d ever been about anything. And now . . .
She took a deep breath. The reality was, nothing
had actually changed. She and Ben had had a wonderful time in Bermuda. He’d given her a priceless gift—not just sexual passion, but the seed of her passion for life. A seed that had been so long buried she’d forgotten it existed.
The fact that she’d nourished a foolish, unrealistic hope that they might have a future together didn’t negate everything that had happened between them.
“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly, turning to Ben. “I didn’t mean to sound like . . .”
He smiled at her. “Like you were rejecting me?”
Well, at least she wasn’t the only one who felt that way.
“Right,” she said. “Because I’m not. I mean . . . I guess I am, sort of. It’s just . . .”
“It’s okay,” he said. “That’s what we agreed to, isn’t it? What happens in Bermuda stays in Bermuda.”
She nodded. “Right.” She paused. “I just want you to know . . .”
He shook his head. “That’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Tell me how amazing our trip was. I was there, remember?”
“Yes,” she said. “I do.”
A little while later, the captain announced that they were beginning their descent toward New York City.
She’d better get ready for hers, too. Because the honeymoon was over, and real life was about to begin.
A real life she was going to embrace—even if Ben couldn’t be a part of it.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
How the hell had he screwed up so badly?
That was the question that haunted Ben over the next few days, as he started to get ready for his move to Chicago.
There was plenty to do. Packing, planning, long-distance apartment hunting . . . and he only had six weeks to do it in. He should have been focused on his extensive task list and on spending time with friends and family before he left New York.
But all he could think about was Jessica.
He’d been so sure she’d want to keep seeing him in the time he had left. How could he have read her so wrong?
It wasn’t that he didn’t understand her decision. She had a lot going on right now, emotional stuff as well as life stuff. She didn’t need to deal with him on top of all that—especially when she’d been so clear that they would only be together while they were in Bermuda.
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