In Love Again (Unruly Royals)

by Mulry, Megan

  “He sounds deplorable.”

  She loved how Ben made his voice sound like some version of hers, British and appalled. “He makes up for it in other ways…”

  “Really? Like how?”

  “Well,” she said as she got up from the couch and walked across the living room. “He’s a really good kisser.”

  “Mm-hmm. Go on.”

  Claire went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. “And he drives a really fancy car, very fast and powerful.”

  “Sounds like my kind of guy. Handsome too, right?”

  “Oh, he’s all right to look at, I suppose.”

  “You suppose?”

  Claire laughed. “I have to jump in the shower, darling. Let me get cleaned up, and I’ll meet you at the movie theater, okay?”

  “You sure you don’t want me to come pick you up?”

  She took her clothes off while she talked to him. “You know if you come up here, we’ll never even make it to the cinema.”

  “That sounds like an awesome plan to me.”

  She stood naked in the bathroom. “Ben, stop. I want to see this movie. Abby’s friend made it, and I promised her I’d go. Plus, I want to.”

  “I know, I know. But after the movie?”

  “Good-bye!”

  “Bye. Love you.”

  “I love you too. Now I’m hanging up.” She ended the call and realized Ben made it so easy to say I love you all the time. So why with Lydia did it seem nearly impossible? she wondered. Claire pulled back the shower curtain, stepped into the tub-shower, and tried to forget about her flibbertigibbet of a daughter and to focus instead on her loving boyfriend.

  Ben set the tray on the bed and smiled down at Claire. True to his word, they’d made an entire Thanksgiving supper—prepared, served, and about to be eaten—with both of them naked the entire time.

  “I like this whole American Thanksgiving idea,” Claire said a few minutes later, between bites, when they were both tucked up in Ben’s big bed in Litchfield. “It’s very festive without a lot of pressure.”

  “Especially naked Thanksgiving,” Ben said. “I think we should make it an annual tradition.”

  Claire smiled and looked back down at her tray, almost shy.

  “What?” Ben prodded.

  She looked back up into his eyes. “When you say things like annual tradition, it makes me feel all wobbly inside.”

  “Why?”

  “You know. It sounds so permanent.”

  He burst out laughing. “It sounds permanent because it is permanent. If you think I’m ever going to let you go again, you’re nuts.” He shook his head and took another bite, never taking his eyes off her.

  “Well, I probably am a little. Nuts, that is.” She took a sip of wine and smiled.

  “Not any more than the rest of us. You’re really quite sane, you know that?”

  She shrugged it off. “You make me feel sane. Grounded, I guess.”

  They finished eating and did the dishes, still naked. When Claire was filling the dishwasher with liquid soap, she shivered. “This whole naked thing is a bit impractical after a while.”

  Ben came up behind her and ran his strong hands along her bare thighs and hips. “That better?”

  Claire snapped the dishwasher closed and pressed the buttons to start it running, then leaned back into him. “Much better.”

  He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in tight. “Let’s go back to bed. I know just the thing to warm you up.”

  She shivered again, but this time it was from the press of his body and the thrum of his voice. “Mmm, I can’t wait.” She turned in his arms and kissed his neck. “Happy Thanksgiving, darling.”

  He put his lips to hers with a tender hesitance, then gradually began to kiss her more passionately. As usual, Claire was swept into the torrent almost immediately. A few minutes later—without really knowing how they’d moved from one room to the other—they were on the newly delivered velvet couch in the living room.

  “Damn it,” Ben grumbled as his kisses worked their way down Claire’s neck, between her breasts, into her navel.

  “What is it?” Claire asked.

  “The condoms are upstairs. Hold on—” He stood up to go fetch them.

  Claire grabbed his hand before he could escape her reach. “Don’t.”

  His eyes narrowed and he stared down at her. At first, he was looking into her eyes, as if he could bore directly into the center of her mind with his intensity. Then his gaze flickered down the length of her flushed naked body. “Why not?” he asked, looking at her lips and reaching out to touch the pulse that was fluttering along her neck.

  “Because I…because we…need to talk…” She started to sit up and Ben was on her—pinning her to the couch—before she could get to an upright position.

  He was caging her face between his elbows and settling his hips into the welcoming embrace of her spread thighs. “What do we need to talk about?” he asked, his voice low and suggestive. He was playing with her hair and looking at her face in that studious way again. The way he’d positioned himself over her wasn’t erotic, exactly. They were both naked and he was totally turned on, but his stomach was against her pelvis and his erection was pressing into the cushion of the couch while he waited for her response.

  Her eyes shifted, as if she were looking for a quick escape. He held her cheeks between his palms to steady and soothe her. “Look at me, sweetheart.” She stilled and stared right into his eyes.

  “I am afraid to say it out loud, I guess.”

  “Why?” he asked softly.

  “In case.”

  “In case what?”

  “In case it’s not what you want.”

  Ben felt his heart pounding in his chest. God, what he wanted. He wanted so much. And he suspected Claire knew, on some deep, unspoken level, how desperately he wanted them to start a family. But he wanted—he needed—to hear Claire say it, to hear her beautiful voice frame the words that would bind them to each other forever. He kept silent.

  “Ben, darling…”

  “Say it,” he whispered. “Please.”

  “I want to have a baby…” He watched as she smiled and cried all at once. “Our baby,” she added, her voice cracking on the words.

  Leaning down to kiss the trail of one tear, Ben whispered in her ear, “You have just made me the happiest man in the universe.”

  He made love to her then, with all the patience and ardor and passion and conviction that he didn’t even know had been germinating, lying in wait, during all those years of their separation. The moment his body joined hers, Ben realized his entire life had been leading him to this fulcrum point. Increasing his pace, he watched Claire’s face as her climax approached, he watched the joy and love and—

  “Oh Claire!” he cried out, throwing his head back and seeing her face behind his closed lids and feeling her inner muscles clamp around him as his own body left him and raced to join hers in the most primitive, elemental way.

  When he came back to himself—barely—he opened his eyes slowly to see Claire was crying again. “Oh, darling, what is it?” He caressed her cheek and tried to smooth away her distress with gentle kisses on her cheek, then down along her neck and shoulder.

  “I’m just—” She was hiccupping and stuttering with emotion. “I love you so—” She moved her hands from his back where she had been gripping him and scratching him moments before. Snaking her arms around his neck, she took a deep breath and continued. “I love you, Ben Hayek. That is all.”

  By December, they had become inseparable. Claire was either at work or with Ben. They’d already started talking seriously about moving in together. Meanwhile, Claire had tried repeatedly to get back in touch with Lydia. When all of her calls had gone unanswered, she’d finally resorted to communicating with her by text. Lydia didn’t always answer those either, but it was something.

  At least Claire had been able to convince Lydia to come to the Bahamas for Christmas wit
h the rest of the Heyworths. Lydia had texted something unintelligible like blerrrgggh but ok fine. For now, that had to be enough. In a few weeks, they’d be together in person and Claire would tie Lydia to a chair in order to have a conversation if she had to.

  In keeping with their typical romantic enthusiasm, Sarah and Bronte had been thrilled about Claire’s budding relationship with Ben. Especially at first. But lately, Claire had been sensing a bit of wary caution seeping into their voices when she talked about how she and Ben were getting more serious, spending much of their time planning for the future. Together.

  It all came to a bit of a head when Sarah called from London early one morning in mid-December.

  “Well, that’s great you guys are starting to talk about the future,” Sarah said.

  Claire looked out at the way the delicate snow dusted the fence and shrubs of Gramercy Park. Maybe she and Ben could move into another apartment in the same building. She was becoming attached to the neighborhood.

  Sarah pressed on. “But…you’ve only been in New York, what, a month and a half?”

  “Three months this week, actually. My first Christmas season in New York. It’s glorious.”

  Claire adored everything about the cold air and the shimmering lights and the bustle. She didn’t even mind the throngs of tourists who were responsible for grinding every street to a halt. She felt like she was part of something grand.

  “I know! Isn’t it the best?” Sarah agreed. “I love New York at this time of year. But going back to the whole moving-in-together thing…don’t you want to spread your wings and all that? You’ve been cooped up in Scotland for so long. This was supposed to be your big independent chapter, remember?”

  Claire wasn’t sure how to respond to that. From the October night that Ben had come back to her place after their celebratory dinner at the Spotted Pig, she had completely lost the plot on the whole independent-woman-about-town scenario. Her reply was knee-jerk, fire with fire. “If memory serves, you and Devon certainly didn’t waste any time moving in together. You were reunited about two nights, weren’t you, when you began shacking up? The weekend of the christening?”

  “That is so low. I always kept my room at the Connaught.”

  Claire laughed at the absurdity of that statement.

  “Okay fine,” Sarah conceded. “Point taken. But still! Just because I was a foolish idiot doesn’t mean you have to be one too!” But she laughed, and it made Claire feel better.

  “The weird thing is… I don’t feel foolish or idiotic when I’m with him, Sar. I feel like I’m right where I’m supposed to be in the universe. Does that make any sense?”

  Sarah sighed into the phone. “Of course it makes sense. I’m just worried for you. It seems so fast to the rest of us. On the outside looking in.”

  “I know, and I totally appreciate it.”

  “Yeah right!” Sarah snapped.

  “No, I mean it. I haven’t felt this connected to my family in…well, ever, if you must know. You and Bronte are like the sisters I never had, giving me fashion advice and letting me know I’m not crazy for wanting to do all those, you know, things in bed.”

  “Oh my god. Things? Can you still not say the words? You are so adorable. So, I’ll take that to mean you finally got him to—”

  “Anyway!” Claire interrupted and then blushed even though she was alone in the apartment. Ben had done so many things in bed this morning before he left for early rounds at the hospital at 6 a.m. “I love all of that.”

  “I bet you do!” Sarah joked.

  “Stop! I’m trying to be serious. You and Bronte have helped me so much over the past few months. And I love how you’ve been there for me.”

  “We love you, sweetie. Of course we want what’s best for you. Speaking of which, are you divorced yet? When is that going to be official? Enough already.”

  “Any day now…”

  “It’s been any day now for the past year.”

  “I honestly don’t know how these solicitors stay in business. They’re really horrendous in terms of dragging everything out.”

  “You know our offer still stands…”

  “What offer?” Claire asked after she took a sip of coffee.

  “The offer to have Devon hack into the tribunal documents.”

  “Sarah!”

  “What? You know it’s a good idea. Freddy wouldn’t think twice about doing it if he could rub two brain cells together to think of something so clever, or rub two pence together to hire someone devious enough to do it.”

  “You’re terrible!”

  “Fine. We won’t do anything rash. But really, what does Ben think about you still being married?”

  Claire didn’t say anything.

  “Oh, it’s like that, is it? You haven’t told Mister-I-can-tell-you-anything that piece of info yet, have you?”

  “I didn’t see the point at first…”

  “Oh god. What is it with you Heyworths and your selective disclosure of information? Like Max didn’t think he needed to tell Bron he happened to be a duke—”

  “Well, technically he only had his courtesy titles when they first met—”

  “Claire! You have to tell him. What if he’s planning on proposing or something equally insane…” Her voice petered out into the silence. “Oh my god. Has Ben already proposed?”

  “Would you look at the time? I need to be at work in—”

  “—like two hours! I know Boppy doesn’t even open her doors until ten. You are stuck with me for at least a few more minutes. Did he propose or not?”

  “No.”

  Sarah muttered something that Claire could have sworn sounded like thank God, but she wasn’t certain.

  “Look. We’re trying to do everything…differently,” Claire said. “Ben’s not going to propose in any traditional sense of the word, because it just seems silly for him to get down on one knee when it’s such a mutual decision… I mean, we both just know…”

  “Wow.” Sarah breathed deep then let the air sift through her lips. “You both know?”

  “Yes. We both know.”

  “Okay. Just wow. So, you’re like together-forever and carving your initials in trees and all that?”

  Claire didn’t have the courage to tell her Ben actually had carved their initials into one of the two-hundred-year-old beams that formed the central support of their house in Litchfield. His house. Their house. Whatever.

  “He didn’t!” Sarah burst out laughing.

  “Why do I even bother talking?” Claire asked. “You always know what I’m going to say anyway. So, yes. We are just that immature and totally in love with each other, and yes, Ben may have, perhaps, possibly put our initials…somewhere.”

  “Oh my god! Did he get a tattoo?”

  “What? No! He carved our initials into one of the crossbeams in the basement of the country house.”

  “Aw, that’s adorable. He sounds wonderful, Claire, honey, he really does, but…so much so soon…”

  “The way we look at it, we’ve been waiting twenty years, and that’s long enough.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll quit harping. Just don’t go do something crazy like have a baby…”

  Claire’s silence could have filled the entire space between North America and Europe.

  “Oh, Claire. No.”

  Lately Claire had been feeling so many new feelings, she was often overwhelmed, but she tried to ride it out. If she felt anger or frustration, she was trying to actually feel them and not scurry away like she had for most of her adult life. Avoiding her feelings had become second nature. It was a hard habit to break.

  Ben hated it, especially in bed. He always said and did the most outrageous things—partly to bait her, but it was so much more. All of his joking and teasing made her feel safe. Of course, everything he did was outrageously pleasurable to boot, but it was about far more than the physical release and sexual freedom. Ben always told her he loved seeing her open up, bit by bit. To feel everything. Good or
bad, joyful or angry.

  And just now, Claire was really angry with Sarah James. And she wasn’t sure what to do about it.

  “Claire, are you still there?”

  She went for the bald truth. “Sarah, I’m really angry at you for saying that, and I’m trying to figure out the right way to tell you how I feel.”

  “I think you just did. Serves me right, judgmental thing that I am.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be cross, but—”

  “But you are, and it’s wonderful to hear you say it flat out. Brava. I take it all back. This is all happening because you trust yourself to be a blubbering mess with him, isn’t it?”

  “I think it is. I mean, who knows, maybe I would have become…better, eventually, at just being myself and not being afraid of consequences all the time. I’m seeing a wonderful therapist too. But maybe just being away from Freddy and all of his horrible lies. I don’t know.” She shrugged and smiled to herself. “Ben just loves me, you know, any which way.”

  Sarah hummed her agreement. “Go on.”

  “I never feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, like I always did with Freddy, or even before that, with my mother. But with Freddy, it was so keen, the waiting-to-fail. Like I would forget something important or say something that annoyed him to no end. It was so…exhausting to be so mindful all the time. I didn’t realize it, I guess, that I had come to live my whole life like that, on eggshells.”

  “Oh, I wish I could be there right now to hug you. Ben sounds simply perfect for you, protective and daring you to…be you.”

  “That’s it. Exactly. I feel like being myself might be enough, that I might be okay.”

  “You’re so much better than okay, Claire. You’re fabulous. And apparently the mysterious Ben Hayek thinks so too.”

  Claire took another sip of coffee and smiled again. “He’s not mysterious.”

  “Then when do we get to meet him?”

  “Actually, he’s going to come to Lyford Cay for Christmas after all.”

  “Oh my god. You’re going to subject him to all of us at once?”