by Tessa Layne
Ben cupped the back of her head, and rubbed her back, refusing to believe Buttercup was gone forever. “Let’s hope she’s as smart as she seemed when you were training her.”
How long they stood quietly, he didn’t know. Eventually, Hope’s breathing returned to normal and she pushed away from him. Pressing her hands to her cheeks, she took a deep breath.
“Thanks.” Her eyes darted toward the door. “I should go.”
Shit. She was going to bolt.
His hands opened in supplication. “Wait? Please?”
Her body tensed as she eyed him warily. Double shit. He had no idea how to go about this. He removed his Stetson and placed it on the table. “What I mean is, let me grovel, and then I’ll listen while you talk… or yell,” he added.
That at least earned him a partial smile.
There was only one way through the gulf that stood between them. He’d have to wade into it and lay himself bare. Show her that she could trust him. He scraped his hand over his face, took a deep breath and spoke.
“You’re the one person in the world who could crush me,” he rasped, emotion thickening his voice. “I was wrong. I wasn’t thinking. I… reacted badly. I… can we sit?”
She nodded and turned, crossing to the daybed and grabbing a pillow. She sat on the floor, leaning against the bed, pillow clutched to her front like a shield.
Ben toed off his boots then sat on the rug directly in front of her. He wanted desperately to pull her into his lap, but everything about her body language said hands off. He leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees. “God knows, you’re nothing like Jake. You never have been. But secrets have nearly destroyed my family. I can’t – I won’t go there in my own marriage.”
She drew back, red-rimmed eyes confused and wide.
He nodded. “You heard right, but we’ll talk about that in a minute. I need to hear from you what happened. And more importantly, why you didn’t think you could confide in me.” Hurt swirled through him again, but this time he didn’t give into it. It would pass, and in time, fade.
Hope’s face crumpled before she dropped her gaze. “I’m so sorry, Ben.” She pressed her fingers to her temples. “Words don’t express… I’m so ashamed.” She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them, searching his face. “I did a terrible thing. I know I did, and I’m paying the price.” Again, she squeezed shut her eyes. “I never meant to hurt you, or anyone.” She ducked her head, braids dipping forward.
“Look at me, Hope.” He reached for her hand, which rested on her knee. “Did you really cheat?”
She pulled her hand back, eyes wide and fearful. She bit her lip and held his gaze a long moment.
Then she barely nodded.
Disappointment crashed through him, and his stomach dropped like a stone. Ben took a deep steadying breath, thoughts and emotions swirling. “I don’t understand. That’s not like you at all.” She wasn’t like that. Was she? Doubt slithered in, staking a claim in a little corner of his mind.
I love you. And I’ll listen.
The words sounded over and over in his head like a lifeline as the silence stretched between them.
She finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “Please don’t hate me, Ben.” She pulled at the corner of the pillow. “I can take anything, but not that.”
Unable to help himself, he reached out and caressed her cheek with the back of a finger. It came away damp. “I could never hate you, Hope. Not in this lifetime. Or any other.” Conviction thrummed through him. Was this the or worse in for better or worse? So what if it was? If they could weather this, they could weather anything. Couldn’t they? Doubt still pulled at him, warring with the side of him that always gave people a chance.
Hope drew in a shaky breath and began to talk. “So the first awful thing I did was date my professor.”
Fuck.
Whatever notions he had about being a good listener flew out the window. His fingers twitched as he fought to keep from making a fist.
Hope’s eyes darted over to him. “I can see you’re upset. In my defense, I was initially attracted to him because he reminded me of you.”
Upset didn’t begin to cover it. “That’s not making me feel better,” he gritted out, trying and failing to stay relaxed. He wanted to vomit. Or punch something.
“But then after a few months, it started to feel… off.”
“Oh, because dating your professor wasn’t ‘off’ enough?”
She flinched. Okay, maybe that was an asshole thing to say, but what the fuck? Shooting him a glare, she lifted her chin a notch. “If you can’t handle it, tell me right now and I’ll stop. I’m not proud of how I behaved.” Her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “But you don’t get to humiliate me.”
Damn.
Damnshitmotherfucker.
“Aww, shit, Hope. I’m sorry. I’m not handling this well.”
Her eyes turned deadly serious. “Shall I stop?”
For an agonizing moment a battle raged inside him. Curiosity won, and defeat settled over him. He’d listen to the bitter end. Even if it killed him. And God help him, he’d move beyond it somehow. He shook his head and swallowed the sting of bitterness that festered in the back of his throat. “Go on.”
She took in a little hiccuping breath and started again. “I should preface this by saying that my relationship history has been… pretty poor.” She bit her lip and looked like she was weighing what to tell him next. “No one stacked up.”
To who? Ben itched to ask, but bit his tongue.
“At some point, a few weeks, maybe a few months… it would sink in… and I’d realize they weren’t you.” She spoke the last part in a rush, face turning beet red.
Ben straightened where he was sitting, a puff of pride swelling in his chest. At least she had good taste.
“So, professor – Nate, became very controlling, and I broke it off.”
“Good,” he growled. Who dated someone named Nate anyway? It conjured images of pressed khakis and polo shirts.
Hope rolled her eyes at his comment and continued, fidgeting with her braid. “I started failing tests, and he started humiliating me in class. But I couldn’t complain, because we’d… we’d been..”
Jealousy, then outrage, spotted Ben’s vision. He wanted to break this guy into a thousand tiny pieces. “I get it,” he ground out. What kind of smarmy asshole took advantage of students that way? This worthless fuck had cost Hope her dreams. Her career.
“I couldn’t prove he was flunking me on purpose, but the thought crossed my mind.”
Did Cavenaugh know this guy? He had half a mind to call Cavenaugh and rat out the nasty little fucker. “But what about going to your advisor?”
“And say what? Hi, I fucked my professor, then broke things off and now he’s flunking me?”
Hearing it so bluntly sliced him to the core. “There must have been something–”
“There wasn’t. He’s got tenure. Who are they going to believe when I have no proof? When it’s my word against his?” A tear leaked out, and she brushed it away angrily.
“And you couldn’t tell your family.” Pieces were starting to drop into place.
She shook her head in agreement. “Of course not. You know how that would have turned out.”
Axel and Gunnar would have driven hell for leather and pounded the shit out of the man had they learned what was going on. And if he’d known, he’d have joined them. The whole thing made him sick. She’d been victimized by a teacher who took advantage of her on an intimate level. And the men in her life who were supposed to protect her and support her, would have made it worse. By meddling. So she’d gone it alone.
He’d been just as bad as her brothers, he realized as his stomach sank like a stone to his toes. All her talk about the meddling men in her life, and what had he gone and done? The same fucking thing. Remorse fisted in his gut. He’d let her down in the worst possible way.
But still, he was curious. “Why not drop the class?”
>
She shook her head. “Too late. And he’s the only professor that teaches the class. I’d have had to suffer through it again, and why do that?” Her shoulders drooped.
He melted a little, seeing her so forlorn and defeated. The woman in front of him wasn’t Hope. Not his Hope.
She shook her head, her face a picture of agony. “I should have taken the ‘F’ and transferred. That would have been the smart thing to do. But I was worried about my student loans, and losing another year to school… so I cheated.” Her voice caught on the last word, and pain in her glare burned him like a hot poker, daring him to criticize her.
Her voice rose to the point of hysteria. “I. Cheated. I was drunk one night, and scared, and… and desperate…” she grimaced, then raised her gaze to him, tortured and raw. “I downloaded pictures of the final.”
He’d have been less shocked to see a UFO outside the tree house window. No wonder she hadn’t wanted to say anything. No wonder she’d avoided Doc Lindsay, and didn’t want to work for her family. She’d been trying to shield everyone she loved and respected. Including him.
“Say something.” Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Please.” She blinked and two big drops trailed down over her cheeks to her jaw where they hung suspended, ready to drip to the pillow. She held her body perfectly still, muscles tense.
What in the hell was he supposed to say? It chapped his hide that she hadn’t trusted him enough to confide in him. But he’d done nothing to show her she could trust him. He’d barged ahead, ‘helping’ her in the name of love.
Two more tears eeked out and skated down her face, dropping to the pillow leaving a dark splat mark. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it. Words still eluded him. Again, he heard Warren’s parting advice. “You only regret the chances you don’t take, son.”
Could he take a chance on Hope? On them? On a messy, unpredictable future?
Yes. Certainty settled in his bones. He could – he would, even though it scared the shit out of him.
Could he imagine growing old without her?
Unequivocally, no.
He’d figured out that much in Manhattan. He needed her like the air he breathed. For better or worse, he was in it with Hope. She watched him, eyes pleading, and the last vestiges of doubt melted away. They’d have to find their way through this, back to trust and faith in each other, but they’d do it. He might not have words right now, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. So he did what any right thinking man would do whose woman was hurting.
He kissed her.
CHAPTER 30
How long Hope sat hunched against the daybed, heart thumping loudly in her ears, she couldn’t be sure. Every cell in her body tensed, waiting for Ben to tell her it was over. That it was too much. She couldn’t breathe.
And then he was kissing her.
Hot, salty, wet, tearstained kisses.
Ben’s voice was thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry. I should have been there for you. I should have listened and not meddled. You shouldn’t have gone through this alone.”
Her body flooded with the warmth of relief, and she pushed away, shaking her head. “I should have trusted you.” She didn’t recognize her own voice through her tears.
He gave her a crooked smile, and kissed the traces of tears remaining on her face. “I can see why you didn’t. I’ll do better.”
The admission made her cry harder, and Ben hauled her onto his lap, encircling her with his strong, warm arms. “I love you, Hope. No matter what. I’ll help you pick up the pieces. I’ll be there for you in any way I can… any way you want.” His voice scraped over her like sandpaper and wormed into the deepest part of her soul.
He tilted her chin, forcing her gaze up to his. She encountered only warmth and love in his deep hazel eyes.
He cleared his throat, suddenly looking uncertain. “Will you have me? Lumps and all? And tell me when I’m out of line?”
His voice was so sweet, so earnest, that tears threatened to spill over yet again.
He caressed her cheek, eyes soft. “No more tears, sweetheart. We’ll find our way back to solid ground.” He spoke with conviction. “I’m not going anywhere. Not without you, at least.”
“You still want an us… after everything?” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice. Of course, she’d been hoping. But there was a tiny part of her, the same part that struggled to forgive herself, that thought she was no longer worthy of someone like Ben. That she’d blown things so terribly she only deserved a cold miserable life from here on out.
“Hell yes.” He placed a kiss on her temple. “I also want to beat the shit out of your professor.”
“You and Axe and Gunn, too. They blew a gasket.” She paused, shame heating her face. “I’m sorry I let you all down. I know you all had such high hopes…” she couldn’t bring herself to finish her thought. That her family had taken her side once she’d come clean had eased so much of her pain. But as long as she lived, she’d never forget the disappointment in their eyes. Nothing would erase the remaining shame she’d carry with her forever – that in a weak moment she’d behaved unethically. She’d never let anything like that happen again.
“Shh.” He shook his head, nuzzling her. “We love you, Hope. No matter what.”
“Ben?”
“Mmm?”
“Look at me.”
He drew back, a warm light in his eyes. She scrambled out of his lap and stood, extending her hand. He took it and hauled himself to his feet. She pressed her palm to his chest, right where she could feel his heart beating steadily. She met his eyes and spoke with assurance. “I promise I won’t try to handle big things alone. We’re a team from here on out.”
He covered her hand with his and wrapped his arm around her back, fingers still laced with her other hand.
“Marry me, Hope. I don’t care where or when. We’ll figure out everything as we go.”
The softness in his eyes went straight to her most secret places, stilting her breathing. Was he proposing? Really?
Ben rushed ahead. “I know I should have planned this better. Had a ring with me, and I’ll give you that if you want, but I… be my wife? Grow old with me?”
If her heart expanded more, it would surely burst. Swallowing back another wave of tears, happy tears this time, she nodded. “Yes,” she murmured as his mouth met hers. “Oh heavens, yes.”
She opened her mouth to his, tasting him. His forgiveness. His love. Ben loved her. In spite of her mistakes, in spite of the hurt they’d inflicted on each other. She pulled away, searching his face for any sign of worry or residual anger, but found none. “Ben… there’s one more thing.”
“I don’t care,” he rumbled, moving in. His whiskers scraped the sensitive area along her neck, showering her body in delicious ripples of goosebumps.
He unclasped their hands and pulled on the elastics binding her braids. Slowly, he unplaited her hair, running his hands through it reverently. He studied his hands, then glanced back at her, his gaze alight with desire. “I’ve always dreamed of doing that. Undoing you.”
Her pulse ratcheted under his intense scrutiny and she bit her lip, debating whether to confess one of her go-to Ben fantasies.
“God,” he groaned, threading his fingers through her hair and pulling her closer. “When you bite your lip like that it makes me want to lick you from the inside out.”
Ben’s words shot straight through her, pooling heat between her legs. She angled her head and caught his lower lip between her teeth, biting gently, then licking it. “So, I have something to tell you,” she murmured breathlessly, excitement combined with a little fear increasing her arousal tenfold and setting her clit throbbing.
“As long as it involves you marrying me, or telling me how to make love to you, you can tell me whatever you want.” He pushed back her coat and she shrugged out of it before running her hands across his chest and doing the same with his.
“So it might be the latter,” she answered coy
ly. Might as well play with him a bit.
In a fluid movement, he pivoted them backwards and pinned her on the bed, his hips settling between her legs, putting perfect pressure on her clit. “Yeah?” He bowed his head, nibbling along her jawline and setting her nipples tingling.
She gave a little hip roll, enjoying the fire that lit his eyes when she did that. So she did it again.
His voice grew rough with desire. “You teasin’ me, Hope?”
She pursed her lips to keep from grinning and widened her eyes innocently. “Me?” She shook her head before dissolving in a fit of giggles.
“That’s it,” he growled, fingers finding her sensitive spots along her ribs. “I’m tickling you until you tell.” He placed an open mouth at the juncture of neck and shoulder and teased with his mouth in a way that made her hot and wet, even as his tickles made her gasp in laughter.
“Okay, okay. I have this fantasy… where you wind my hair around your hand and you pull.”
His eyes blazed.
“Not hard. Just… enough to… you know.” Heat crawled up her chest.
“I don’t know,” he rasped hoarsely. “Tell me.” The unabashed hunger in his eyes urged her on.
“So my neck is exposed.” She swallowed, unable to look away. “Like this. So you can lick straight to my clit.” She thrust her breasts forward and tilted her head back, exposing her neck.
Ben sucked in a harsh breath. “Fuck, that’s hot.”
She glanced up through her lashes. “There’s more.”
“Don’t make it too hot. I might blow my stack.” He rolled his hips making it very clear how hot he was.
“Oooh. You’re dirty.” She grinned up at him, delighted her words had such a powerful effect.
“Only for you, darlin’. Tell me more.”
“The other is me on top.” God, telling him was turning her into a puddle of heat and nerve endings. Every word she uttered made her clit ache a little more intensely. “And my hair is undone, and I brush it over your chest,” she gasped as he popped the button on her flannel and placed his mouth on her breast, tonguing her nipple through her bra. She sighed, finding it harder and harder to make words. “And then… and then…”