She shook her head. “I don’t need it. That trip down memory lane killed any buzz I had.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t do anything, Ben. It’s me. Like always. I ruined a perfectly good drunk-text booty call.”
One side of his mouth curved, even though she seemed totally serious. “Come here, sweetheart.”
She slid closer and he tucked her against him, massaging his fingers along the delicate bones of her spine. He thought about his parents, all the yelling and fighting they’d done for years. Most of it had been fueled by alcohol. Alcohol and anger. It was why Ben had stopped getting drunk a few years ago. He’d come close to too many bar brawls, making him feel like his dad on a bender. He never wanted to turn into a man he could easily hate. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he told her.
“But no sex,” she murmured, her breath warm against his throat.
“A rain check,” he told her. “Are you ready for bed?”
She tipped back her head to look up at him. “Will you stay?” Her eyes were big and vulnerable.
“As long as you need me to.”
She kissed his cheek and stood, still swaying a little.
“Need help?”
“I think I do,” she said, and it felt like the words were hard for her to say. He liked that she said them anyway.
He draped an arm around her waist and led her to the bedroom. She plopped onto the edge of the bed and her fingers fumbled with the buttons of her shirt. “PJs on the hook behind the door.”
They were soft cotton and smelled like Chloe, fresh and sweet. He helped her out of her clothes and into the pajamas, careful to keep his hands from wandering too far from the task at hand. Her eyelids were drooping already as he slid back the quilt and sheets and tucked her under.
“You’re a good guy,” she whispered, and he wanted to believe the words. Wanted to be a better person than he knew himself to be. For her.
So when he climbed into the bed next to her, he didn’t take off his clothes and made sure to lie on top of the covers. She snuggled into him, and although his body reacted, he simply enjoyed the feeling of her relying on him. He stayed with her most of the night, only slipping out as the first tendrils of light appeared in the eastern sky outside her window.
For a night of getting very little sleep himself, he felt more rested than he had in ages.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Rough night?” Karen looked up from the computer in the back office as Chloe walked in the next day. The store didn’t open for another hour, but Karen had volunteered to check the online site early each morning so they could process and ship the orders placed without delay. This was also the morning of the weekly employee meeting. The rest of the women would arrive shortly to discuss store business and also for a support session and updates on their new lives. Chloe had found that the meetings helped keep them focused and committed to the changes they’d made, but today she wished she’d been able to stay in bed.
“Does it show?” Chloe thought she’d done a pretty good job of cleaning herself up, at least compared to how she’d looked this morning. It had been close to seven when she’d stumbled into the bathroom, mouth full of cotton and head pounding. Her reflection in the mirror was almost unrecognizable. The eye shadow and mascara she’d applied yesterday was smeared halfway down her face and her curls had turned to frizz, plastered to one side of her head while sticking up wildly on the other.
Is this how she’d looked last night with Ben? Mortification had flooded her, sharp and heavy. She’d texted him for sex and ended up being a sad, sloppy drunk. The worst part was that she’d freaked out on him, letting her memories of Jonathan overshadow the present once again. Her hot mess of a face ran a pretty close second.
If only she’d passed out on the couch along with Sam and Jenny.
Kendall had texted her earlier asking about the night. She’d sent a photo of Sam and Jenny spooning on the couch. At least Chloe hadn’t been the only one to act out of character last night. Too bad hers was with Ben.
“You don’t look great,” Karen said, pushing back from the desk, “but the delivery you received this morning was a bigger clue.” She picked up a white grocery bag and large plastic cup from the bookshelf. “Ben brought this by a few minutes ago.”
Unexpected warmth shot through Chloe’s veins at the same time her face heated. She inhaled as she took the bag. “It smells delicious.”
“He said you might need something substantial this morning and swore he makes the best breakfast burrito in town.” Karen handed over the cup. “He also brought a vanilla milkshake.”
“A milkshake?”
“It’s a hangover cure,” Karen told her, one eyebrow raised.
Chloe nodded. “Girls’ night at Kendall’s.”
“Ben was at your girls’ night?”
“I texted him at one point, and he picked me up.”
“Booty call,” a voice sang out behind her.
She whirled then groaned as a wave of dizziness tore through her. Tamara stood with three other women in the doorway of the office, all of them grinning from ear to ear.
“Chloe’s got herself a hot man,” Tamara called, bumping hips with Sally, one of the store’s newest hires.
“Nice going, boss. I’d tap that beautiful piece of beastly man in a heartbeat,” Sally said with a wink at Chloe.
“Wait one minute.” Tamara took a step closer to Chloe. “Your lip is busted. You’ve got dark gloss on to hide it.”
Chloe touched her tongue to the thin cut. “It’s nothing.”
“Of course it’s something,” Karen said, coming around the counter. She placed a hand on Chloe’s chin and tipped her head back toward the light. “He promised you were safe with him. And now this. We’re going to—”
“Do nothing,” Chloe interrupted, twisting away from Karen’s grasp. “It wasn’t Ben.”
“Of course not. We’ve all been there, girlfriend.” Sally shook her head. “Damn men.”
“I mean it. I was drunk at Kendall’s and I fell.” She held out her cell phone. “Call and ask her. Ben didn’t touch me. We didn’t even . . .”
The women stared at her, their expressions ranging from disbelief to sympathy.
“I didn’t tap anything,” she said quickly, her voice sharp. “Nothing intimate happened between Ben and me. I was too drunk. He took me home and put me to bed. Ben was . . .” She broke off, gave a strangled laugh. “He was a perfect gentleman and far kinder than he needed to be.” Chloe shook her head. “End of story. I promise. We need to start the meeting.”
As if sensing the topic wasn’t up for discussion, the women filed into the office and took their normal seats around the room. The ends of Tamara’s hair were now colored a dark shade of purple, which matched her brightly painted nails. Sally was the youngest of the women, barely twenty-one. She was still full of youthful attitude despite having spent four years in an abusive relationship with her high-school boyfriend that only ended after Sally spent several nights in the hospital.
The final member of their group was Laura, a soft-spoken woman in her mid-thirties who’d moved to Denver from southern Wyoming with her two kids six months earlier. She was shy and sometimes skittish with adults but loved to help with the weekly classes. Chloe hoped to give her enough experience that she could apply as a teaching aide at a preschool or day care in the fall.
They discussed the sales for the week, upcoming classes, and the employee schedule. Then Chloe asked for a personal update from each woman. While most of them received support from the local shelter, Chloe knew the community they’d created at the store felt like family to each of them.
After congratulating Tamara on her decision to apply to a local cosmetology school, Chloe glanced at her watch. “Ten minutes until we open. Is there anything else we need to discuss?”
The four women glanced at each other. “You haven’t given us an update,” Karen said after a moment, clearly the de facto spokesperson for
the group.
Chloe blinked. “I talked about myself at the beginning of the meeting.”
“No,” Tamara countered. “You talked about how the Beast took care of you because you can’t hold your liquor.”
“There’s nothing else—”
“What about your feelings for Ben?” Tamara asked.
Karen nodded. “If you’re starting a relationship with a man, you should explore the emotions around it. It’s part of the healing process.”
“I don’t need healing,” Chloe snapped then cringed. “What I meant was that I’ve gone through the process already. I left my abusive relationship four years ago.”
“I got rid of the last loser who beat on me almost ten years ago.” Karen crossed her arms over her colorful peasant blouse. “I still have issues that come up.” She pointed at Chloe. “Not once in the time I’ve worked here have you had a boyfriend. Ben Haddox is the first.”
“Ben isn’t my boyfriend. It’s obvious he’s out of my league. Look at him and look at me.”
“You’re the one who needs to take another look,” Karen argued. “I’m sure your mother loved you, but she did a number on your self-esteem. You’re a beautiful woman both inside and out. It’s past time you honor that.”
Chloe swallowed, her throat suddenly full of sand. Her mother had spent years lecturing her on what “average” women could expect out of life. She knew rationally it had been the depression talking but also understood somewhere deep inside that she’d never thought of herself as anything but average. Ben made her feel like she was so much more, and she feared she was just setting herself up for a harsh dose of reality when this month was over. “He’s the last man I’d seriously go out with. He’s loud and brash and his temper has made him famous. I can’t be with someone like that.”
“And yet . . .” Tamara raised her perfectly shaped brows. “There was a booty call.”
“It wasn’t a . . .” Chloe took another sip of the milkshake. “I was drunk.”
Sally nodded. “Not a prerequisite for gettin’ a little something, but it helps.”
“I was in no state for anything.”
“So did he . . .” Tamara began, her tone careful, “What exactly went down with the two of you?”
“Nothing.” Chloe released a breath. “He took care of me. I freaked out, melted down, fell on my face. The epitome of a sloppy drunk. Ben got me home safely, cleaned me up, and stayed with me while I slept it off. He was gone by the time I woke up this morning.”
The women let out a collective sigh. “He has a temper,” Karen said, “but has only been gentle with you. In contrast to your ex-husband, who was quiet and controlled . . .”
“Until he lost it,” Chloe finished. She unwrapped the burrito and took a bite, hoping the grease would calm her rolling stomach. Her pounding heart was another matter. “This is why it’s easier to be alone.”
“It’s also lonelier,” Karen said softly and Tamara nodded.
“I miss men,” Tamara said. “How I feel when the right man touches me. How they smell.” She looked at Chloe. “I bet Ben Haddox smells great.”
“He does,” Chloe admitted. He smelled like spice and man, and she thought she’d never grow tired of nuzzling into his neck and breathing him in. When she’d turned over in her bed this morning, Ben’s faint scent had clung to the quilt in the same way she wanted to hold on to him and never let go.
Dangerous territory.
She took another bite and glanced toward the front of the store. “Sally, will you flip the lights and unlock the door?”
“Is that your way of saying you’re done talking about Ben?” Karen asked, grabbing a stack of papers from the printer.
“Yep.” Chloe didn’t bother to deny it. “Plus I have a moms’ group coming in this morning for a toddler class. I appreciate your support, I really do. But no matter what happens, this store and all of you are my first priority. I won’t forget that.”
“Of course Abby and Zach are my first priority.” Ben shifted in the metal chair of the Colorado Territorial Correctional Facility visiting room. He’d driven the couple hours down to Cañon City to visit Cory. The prison was situated in a wide-open valley flanked by rugged mountain ranges in the distance. But the stark brick building with barbed wire strung around its concrete perimeter held an ominous feeling of hopelessness despite the beautiful surroundings.
It had been two days since he’d left Chloe asleep in her bed the morning after her girls’ night. She’d texted him to apologize again, but had otherwise avoided his calls. He didn’t want her to be embarrassed, yet he sure as hell didn’t want to spend another night away from her. Abby and Zach were at The Toy Chest today giving him a perfect excuse to stop by, but Ben needed to see his younger brother.
“Christ,” he mumbled when Cory’s expression remained surly. “I dropped everything to come to Denver and take care of them.”
“Big-shot Ben saves the day,” his brother snapped. Cory was thinner than the last time Ben had seen him, with dark shadows beneath his eyes. He tapped his fingers on the table between them, and Ben could tell his knee was jiggling underneath the table by the way his whole body moved. Cory had been filled with a wild energy when they were kids, constantly moving until he’d fallen asleep at night. “That’s what you want everyone to believe, right?”
“No.” Ben shook his head. “It’s not like that. Only my publicist even knows about the situation.”
“Because you’re embarrassed by my kids?” Cory leaned forward. “They’re both my kids, Benny. Don’t forget that.”
“I haven’t.” Ben realized he’d yelled the words when people from the nearby tables turned to stare. Glancing at the guard standing by the door, he smiled and nodded to show he had things under control. He needed to get himself under control. He’d visited Cory once before when he’d first arrived in Colorado, but at that time his brother had been contrite and grateful to Ben for his willingness to help. That Cory bore little resemblance to the angry man sitting in front of him now.
“What’s going on? Are you in trouble in here? Is something bad—”
Cory gave a sharp shake of his head. “I talked to Zach last week.”
“He was happy to hear your voice,” Ben said with a nod. “Both kids want to see you.”
“No. I don’t want them anywhere near this place. But that doesn’t mean you can ignore the fact that I’m still part of their lives.”
Where the hell was this coming from? “I’m not trying to—”
Cory held up a hand. “Zach told me he and Abby are helping in old man Butterfield’s toy store.”
An uncomfortable ripple of guilt sailed up Ben’s spine. He should have thought of the fact that The Toy Chest would come up in conversation when the kids talked to their father. But Cory’s life in prison seemed so separate from what was happening in Denver that Ben hadn’t prepared for this. He nodded slowly. “He got caught shoplifting and Abby did some damage in the store trying to make a distraction so he could get away.”
The barest hint of a smile curved one side of Cory’s lips. “It’s a wonder that girl isn’t actually my flesh and blood. She’s just like me.”
“She’s nothing like you,” Ben bellowed. The prison guard made eye contact again. “Sorry,” Ben called to the man with a wave before turning his attention to Cory. “She is smarter than both of us combined. She’s helping with the online business, social media and marketing. Do you know how talented she is with web development, e-commerce, and all that technical stuff?”
Cory shifted, dropping his gaze to the floor. “Of course I know,” he muttered, but Ben didn’t believe him. “It doesn’t change anything. I don’t want her anywhere near that store.”
“It’s good for her, Cory. For both of them.”
“What the hell happened to the plan of shutting it down? You made a promise to me.”
Ben rubbed a hand across his jaw. “The plan is still there. But Chloe . . .” He stopped at the flicker in hi
s brother’s eyes. “The new owner has taken Abby under her wing, and she’s not Butterfield. Our gripe was with him.”
“My problems started with the store.” Cory let out a disgusted snort. “You’re fucking the new owner,” he all but spat. “Does it make you hot to bend her over the stuffed animals when you think of my life being royally screwed?”
“Shut up, Cory. You don’t know what you’re talking about. The kids have nothing to do with what happened to you, and neither does Chloe.”
“You promised me, Benny.” Cory’s voice cracked as he put his elbows on the table then covered his face with his hands. “I have nothing in here. My life is worth nothing.”
“That’s not true,” Ben argued automatically. “Zach and Abby need you to stay strong, Cory.”
“I’ve screwed up so many times, and all of my problems started with The Toy Chest. Everything went downhill from the moment you gave me the idea to go after Butterfield. I can still see him gloating when the cops came through the door.”
His brother glanced up at him then, his eyes shining with anger and regret. It hit Ben like a punch to the gut. When he’d impulsively suggested revenge on Stan Butterfield all those years ago, it had been an empty threat to placate Cory and assuage Ben’s own guilt. The promise he had made about the store was more for his own benefit than Cory’s. He’d been the one who needed a channel for his anger. Or so he’d thought.
“I’m going to take care of it,” he said quietly. His doubts about shutting down the store disappeared for the moment. He still understood that Chloe wasn’t responsible for what had happened to Cory, but it didn’t matter. He looked at his brother’s slumped shoulders and resolve coalesced inside him. Yes, he’d made a promise and he wasn’t going to renege on it, not when his brother was depending on him. He hadn’t been able to keep Cory safe as a boy, but he wasn’t going to let him or Abby and Zach down now.
Even if it ruined what he had with Chloe.
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