by Ann Lister
“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked in a flat tone.
“I've been calling you for five days,” she said. “You didn't call me back and I got worried.”
“As you can see I'm…fine - never been better, so you can turn around and go right back to New York.”
Sydney wiped at the fresh tears spilling onto her cheeks and shifted in the deep sand.
“I brought you something,” she said.
“Unless you brought Jenna, I'm really not interested,” he said.
Sydney inhaled slowly, trying to stay in control of her emotions. She watched Ben heave another rock into the water as if he were throwing a punch at someone.
“I was wondering if you had a chance to…”
“Recover from the bomb you dropped in my lap?” he asked. “The answer to that million dollar question is: no! I did call my lawyer and he's taking care of the legal end of this fucking mess you created. That should make you rest easy, right?”
Sydney lightly touched his arm. “I've been supporting Jenna by myself for the last three years. If this was about money, I would have called you a long time ago.”
Ben's eyes dropped to Sydney's hand on his skin, then lifted to meet hers. “Why, Sydney? Why would you lie to me about Jenna?” he asked. He shook his head in disbelief. “I've been wrestling with that question for the last five days and I can't come up with an answer to justify the action. I simply don't get it.”
“I couldn't bear the thought Jenna was created from a sleazy bet.”
“Enough about the fucking bet, Sydney! There was no bet! As soon as the words left Simon's mouth, I stopped it, and I refuse to waste another minute talking about it.”
Ben crossed his arms across his chest.
“Let me ask you something, Sydney. In all the time we were together - especially those ten days we spent here, was there ever a time you really loved me? I'm asking because I can't believe you'd deceive someone you supposedly loved the way you did me. And, that leaves me to wonder if I was nothing more than a sperm donor for you.”
Sydney slapped his face with force. “How could you say that?”
A smile slid across Ben's face. His fingers rubbed at his stinging cheek.
“Perfect. We're back to slapping. Maybe you'd like to kick me in the balls again and make it just like old times?” he asked. He separated his legs in the sand and pointed his arms skyward. “There you go, Syd. Free shot.”
Sydney's eyes dropped to the heart tattoo adorning the left side of his chest. Her name was now inked across the ribbon that laced through the design.
“You changed your tattoo.”
“Considering how you burned me, it seemed fitting to have your name burned into my skin,” he said. “A constant reminder of what you put me through.”
More tears spilled from Sydney's eyes.
Ben selected another stone from the beach and tossed it into the water, then sat in the sand. He drew his knees up toward his chest and hung his forearms over them. A moment later, Sydney sat down beside him.
He gazed at her profile, her hair neatly secured at the back of her head with a clip, her delicate face strained with emotion. He could see her tears shimmering on her cheeks in the sun, and as mad as he was at her, seeing her cry broke his heart. He had to fight the urge to wipe away the moisture and take her in his arms.
He wanted to tell her somehow everything would be all right, but he couldn't say it. Everything wasn't all right and he wasn't sure if it ever would be again. He was struggling with his anger, but the intense feelings he still harbored for her were now floating to the surface. He dropped his forehead to his knees.
“What the hell happened to us, Sydney? How did we get from those ten days we spent here to…this?” he asked. He laid back in the warm sand. His legs bent at the knee, arms stretched over his head, and closed his eyes.
“I thought I was over you,” he said softly. “But when I saw you at the Civic Center, every emotion I had came crashing back.” He rolled his head in the sand and looked at her. “It was overwhelming.”
His words were powerful and unexpected. She wasn't sure how to respond or if she should try. Her eyes dropped to his stomach and the Reckless tattoo partially exposed above the elastic waistband of his jogging pants. She watched his stomach rise and fall with each new breath. She followed the dark hairline that led from his pants to his belly button and up onto his chest. She remembered the soft texture of his chest hair, how it felt to rub her face against it, the taste of it, then her focus shifted to his mouth.
When her eyes found his again, she realized he was staring at her, a slight smirk curling his lips. Her face flushed hotly at the thought he knew she had been canvassing his body and turned away.
Ben rolled onto his side, propped up on an elbow.
“Did you feel anything when you saw me?” he asked. “I mean, something other than panic. I'm sure at that point you realized you were about to be caught in the biggest lie of your life.”
“I felt a lot of things,” she said.
“Like what?”
Sydney faced him. His green eyes were charged with life.
“I'm not sure it really matters what I was feeling, Ben.”
He sat upright and scanned the horizon, then abruptly stood up and brushed the sand from his pants.
“You're right. It probably doesn't matter,” he said, and began walking toward his house.
Sydney fell into step and followed him onto the deck. Ben stopped at the table where Sydney had left the photo albums. The wind had blown open one of the covers, displaying several snapshots of Jenna. Silently, Ben began flipping through the pages.
“Is this what you brought?” he asked.
Sydney stepped beside him, ever careful not to get too close.
“I know I can't give back the three years you lost with Jenna, but I can give you these,” she said. “Everything is here, all her major milestones, her first tooth, first steps, the birthdays - it was all well documented, Ben. I labeled each photograph, so you'll know what you're looking at and I made copies of a couple of home movies for you, too. The movies are in the paper bag.”
Ben looked at her. Emotion made his eyes glisten in the sun.
“Are these for me to keep?” he asked.
She nodded and stepped away from the table.
“Are you leaving?” he asked.
“I thought you'd want to look at the books in private.”
He reached and caught her by the fingertips.
“I'd like you to stay, Syd. We can look at the books together.”
“I don't want to impose, Ben. If you're not alone...”
“I'm alone.”
“I guess I could stay for a few more minutes.”
Ben's shoulders relaxed. A smile lit his face. It was the first real smile she had seen on him since she arrived. He collected the books and the paper bag and walked into the house. He set the albums onto the coffee table in living room and returned to the kitchen where Sydney waited.
“Would you like something to drink?” he asked.
“No, thank you.”
Ben took a bottle of water from the bottom shelf of the refrigerator and removed the cap. He watched her eyes darting around the house and settle on the photographs of her image covering the walls. She looked uneasy, shifting in place.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“It's a little weird being back here.”
“We made a lot of good memories here - at least it was good for me.”
“It was the best,” she said, and turned away.
“I'm glad to hear you say that,” he said.
He moved past her and into the living room. She watched him walk, the fluid sway of his narrow hips still intrigued her. She took a few steps into the living room and stopped beside the couch where he was sitting.
“You're making me nervous standing there,” he said, and patted a spot on the couch beside him. “Come on, sit with me.”
Sydney
sat, acutely aware of his closeness. She could feel the heat from his skin and smell the faint scent of suntan lotion. His leg brushed hers when he reached for a photo album and she flinched. His eyes darted to her.
“Sorry about that,” he said in a soft, sultry tone.
Sydney swallowed hard and helped him spread the album across their laps. She slowly began to tell him about the photographs. The snapshots from the first book were of Sydney during her pregnancy, growing larger with each new image, and ended with shots of Jenna right after her birth. Ben studied each picture intently, adding his own comments that made each of them laugh and begin to relax. Before Sydney knew it, several hours had passed and she was feeling at ease sitting beside Ben.
“You were one, sexy pregnant broad.”
“Ben!”
“What?” he asked. The intense green of his eyes met the sea of her blue and the fuse between them lit.
Ben gazed at Sydney thoughtfully for several moments, trying to read her. He wondered if she was feeling the heat between them and struggling with the same desperate need to kiss. He was having tremendous difficulty remembering why he was mad at her. All he could think about was holding her and the taste of her mouth.
He set the photo album back on the table in front of his knees and inched closer. Their eyes connected again.
Sydney tried to make sense of the rush of excitement racing through her. It made her want to hold her breath. Her heart was beating so hard she could feel it in her throat. His eyes bore into her, warm and fluid. A familiar pulse returned deep inside her core.
She watched his movements with caution, unsure of his intentions. The fear of succumbing to his power consumed her. His hand lifted behind her head and released her hair clip, spilling her long hair around her shoulders. Panic masked her eyes. She could feel her resolve crumbling and felt powerless to stop it.
“Why'd you do that?” she asked.
He pressed his face to her cheek. Skin to skin. The fire flamed.
“I told you a long time ago, I prefer your hair down,” he whispered beside her ear.
Sydney shivered from the vibrations of his voice against her neck.
“Ben…please don't,” she said, and tipped her head away.
He retracted his face slowly, purposefully moving his cheek across hers, until the tip of his nose was almost touching hers. His breath was bouncing off of her lips. His fingertips drifted over her face, then down onto her throat. Sydney closed her eyes. He hoped it was a sign she was feeling the same sensations as him.
He eased his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her mouth to his. Their lips touched and Sydney's eyes sprung open. She tensed and withdrew. Ben sat back, resting his arm around her shoulders. His fingers softly stroked her hair.
“I guess I was the only one wanting that kiss,” he said.
Sydney stood up abruptly. “I should probably leave,” she said.
Ben came up beside her and took her hand. “I wouldn't have done that, but your body language led me to believe otherwise. It was an honest mistake.”
Sydney smiled weakly. “I don't remember you ever having trouble reading my body language.”
Ben ran his fingers up the outside of her arms.
“It's been almost four years, Sydney. I guess things have changed.”
“Do you really think things have changed?”
Ben's eyes dropped to his hands moving around her biceps. Her skin was warm and silky and smelt like apricot blossoms.
“Nothing has changed for me,” he said. “I still feel exactly the way I did the last time we were together in this room.”
His fingers slipped beneath the sleeve of her t-shirt and exposed an addition to her rose bud garland tattoo.
“You had Jenna's name added to your arm.”
Sydney nodded. The warmth of his touch was beginning to make her feel weak in the knees.
“Any more new ones?” he asked. His eyes canvassed her face, fluid with affection.
Sydney slowly spun and shifted her long hair from the back of her neck. Partially concealed at the base of her hairline was Ben's name, permanently inked into her skin. He held her hair out of the way and covered the inking with his mouth.
“This is sexy as hell, Sydney,” he sighed against her. His tongue tenderly stroking her flesh.
Instead of pulling away from his touch, Sydney melted against him. His mouth moved to the side of her throat. His hands slid around her hips and onto her lower belly; pressing firmly. Sydney placed her hands on top of his and squeezed his fingers.
“Are you still feeling something, Sydney?” he whispered.
Sydney shifted against him, almost delirious with arousal.
“Yes.”
She could feel his erection growing between them. His lips continued to kiss her neck, his hands inching lower. The chemistry they had was just as powerful today as it was four years ago. The passage of time had done nothing to diminish it.
Ben eased Sydney around to face him. His gaze was melting her insides. His fingers went to her jaw, slowly tracing the outline, then his lips brushed over hers.
“This feels so good, Sydney,” he said quietly, still not fully kissing her. “I never thought I'd have you in my arms again.”
He cupped both sides of her face and covered her mouth with his. Sydney slid her arms around his waist and held on tightly. He opened his mouth wider and kissed her again, painfully slow and with mind-numbing results.
“Stay with me tonight,” Ben said breathless.
Sydney placed her hands against his chest and pushed herself away.
“I can't. I promised Jenna I'd be back in time to tuck her into bed.”
“You're flying back to New York tonight?” he asked.
“I have a room in town. Jenna and her nanny are with me.”
Ben tensed. The soft expression on his face turned to stone.
“Jenna is with you?”
“She's always with me.”
Ben stared at her in disbelief for several minutes, then moved passed her, through the kitchen and onto the deck. Sydney hesitated, then followed.
“When were you planning on telling me that?” he asked. “Or maybe you didn't want me to know? Is that it? Was that your way of ensuring I had no contact with her?”
“I was going to tell you, Ben, but I wanted to talk to you alone first. I didn't want Jenna to have to listen to us fighting.”
“And, I suppose the fighting is my fault?” Ben said.
“No, it's my fault. I deserve your anger and I expected it.” Sydney touched his arm. “I hate what I've done, Ben, and if I could take it back, I would. I never should have let the situation get so out of control. Every day that went by I regretted not telling you about Jenna, but, then so much time passed I didn't know how to fix it.”
Sydney wiped her cheeks and dropped her head. “I'm so sorry, Ben. You have to believe that. I'm hoping someday you might find a way to get beyond your anger and forgive me. I want you to have a relationship with your daughter, but it's not healthy for her if we're constantly fighting.”
“Is she even aware she has a father?” Ben asked.
“I show her the photograph book from your tour all the time. She sees the pictures of you now and immediately says: Daddy.”
“Really?” Ben asked, his voice softening.
Sydney nodded. “I'm not sure she realizes Daddy is flesh and blood. I think she believes Daddy lives inside the photographs - not on a beach in Maryland.”
“That's also not my fault.”
“Ben, please. Somehow we've got to figure out a way to move beyond this.”
He turned to her and pulled her against his chest, his face falling to the bend of her neck. His fingers began rubbing circles on her back.
“I'm trying really hard to get beyond this, Sydney. I don't want to be mad at you,” he said. “But, Jesus! What you did is…”
“Unforgivable.”
Ben tipped his head. His eyes met hers.
&
nbsp; “I wouldn't say that. But, it's going to take time for me to come to terms with it.”
“I understand,” she said, and touched his chest. “I was wondering if you'd like to meet Jenna and me for breakfast tomorrow?”
“What time does your plane leave for New York?”
“Not until late afternoon. I was thinking nine o'clock would be good. What do you think?”
Ben smiled broadly and pushed the hair out of her eyes. “I'd like that.”
Sydney exhaled with relief. “I'm staying in room 512 at the Fairmont Hotel in town.”
“I'll be there at nine.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Ben arrived at the Fairmont hotel early. He briefly thought about waiting in his truck to kill time, then decided to take a walk on the beach across the street. Even at this early hour of the morning, the sun already felt hot. A thin layer of haze hung on the horizon, making the sky fade into the ocean like it was one in the same.
He had barely slept the previous night, but did not feel the exhaustion he knew he should. Instead he felt exhilarated and anxious; about to begin a new relationship with his daughter, and hopeful to rekindle an old one with her mother.
Ben found Sydney's room and knocked on the door. A few seconds later, Sydney was standing in the doorway smiling at him. She was wearing a very short navy blue skirt and a tight fitting pink blouse with one too many buttons undone on the front of it. A simple gold chain hung in her cleavage. Her long blond hair was down around her shoulders and framed her beautiful face.
“You're early,” Sydney said, and finished slipping a dangle earring into her earlobe.
“I know I'm early, but I couldn't wait,” he replied, stepping into the room. “Will the nanny be joining us for breakfast?”