Maybe it was rude, or maybe it was his turn to be presumptuous, but he didn’t care. Darcy Shaughnessy had been turning his life upside down for the better part of a week, and he was tired of it.
Tired of the constant roller coaster of emotion.
Tired of second-guessing himself.
And so damn tired of simply fighting with her. And himself.
She gasped when the door flew open, and she turned to face him. But she said nothing. Good. He didn’t want her to talk. Didn’t want to hear what she was thinking right now. He wanted to say what he had to say and then deal with the fallout.
“I was wrong,” he said, his voice strong and firm. “What you did down there was…it was exactly what I needed and didn’t want to admit I needed. I don’t like asking for help. I don’t like needing help,” he corrected. “Every day, I tell myself I can do it all, and every day, I know I’m lying.”
One lone tear trailed down her cheek, and it nearly brought Ben to his knees. But he stayed where he was, because touching her right now would certainly be too much of a temptation.
“I don’t know what it is about you that makes me react the way I do. I’m normally a little more civilized. I know you might not believe that, and the history you have of me would certainly be in opposition to that statement, but… I may not be the most eloquent man or the most polished, but for crying out loud, I never argue with someone the way I do with you.” He paused. “You make me crazy, and I have no idea why.”
They were silent for a moment, and Ben hoped she would say something. Respond in some way so he had a clue about where he stood.
Finally, she did. She wiped a hand across her cheek, and her voice was so small, so quiet, he almost didn’t hear her. “It’s me,” she said. “It seems to be the way most people react to me.” She shrugged and looked at the floor. “I don’t know why. I don’t know why I bring that side out in people, and I wish I didn’t. I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought I was doing something good. Something nice. I thought I was helping.”
She was gutting him, and she didn’t even know it, he thought.
Unable to help himself, he moved closer. And kept moving until he was able to wrap her in his arms and simply hold her close. He felt her shuddery sigh as she relaxed against him, and God, if she didn’t feel good. He kissed the top of her head and simply enjoyed the feel of her in his embrace.
He looked around the room, unable to believe the transformation it underwent in less than twenty-four hours. She had stuff on every surface—jewelry, lotions, scarves. On the nightstand was a stack of paperback books and a tablet. But most of all, the room smelled of her perfume. Of her.
At that moment, he could have easily tilted her head and kissed her senseless. It was what he wanted more than anything. He wanted the woman he had tasted earlier, the woman who had both melted and ignited in his arms. It would be so easy to do, and there was a bed not even five feet away.
But instead, he decided that it wasn’t the right time.
“What kind of cookies did you bake?” he asked softly.
Darcy lifted her head from his chest. “What?”
“The whole house smells like freshly baked cookies. Tell me what you made,” he said with a lopsided grin.
“Well, I made chocolate chip, peanut butter, and chocolate spice, and then I baked a cake.”
His smile grew. “What kind of cake?”
“It’s a good one—devil’s food. You had about three boxes of it, so I figured you must like it.”
“It’s my favorite.” He paused and studied her face. “Which icing did you use?”
“I went for the overkill,” she said with a hint of sass. “The milk chocolate. You had many, many, many cans of it.”
“Sometimes I eat it right out of the can.”
“A man after my own heart,” she teased, and then it didn’t feel quite so much like teasing. The atmosphere in the room changed in a heartbeat.
There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that if he leaned in and kissed her, he’d get the exact response he most wanted from her.
And he still opted to be the gentleman.
“Let’s go and have a slice,” he said as he took her hand in his and led her from the room.
* * *
The instant Ben’s hand wrapped around hers, Darcy’s decision was made.
There would be cake.
Later.
They walked slowly to the kitchen, and as she made her way over to the island to go through the motions of serving them each up a slice, Ben didn’t let go of her hand. Finally, she looked at him, one hand on the plate, the other in his, and one brow arched. “I’m going to need that,” she said with a sexy grin.
Never before had the slide of a finger across her palm felt so erotic.
Lethal.
The man was positively lethal.
She took the lid off the cake plate and revealed her chocolate masterpiece. It seriously looked good and, well, maybe a little taste right now wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world they could do.
Just as she was about to turn to grab plates and forks, she saw Ben move. One arm snaked out as he swiped a finger across the top of the cake, effectively grabbing a large dollop of icing. Darcy’s eyes immediately met his, even as her heart simply kicked hard in her chest.
Ben’s gaze—more heated than she’d ever seen it—told her exactly what he wanted from her, and right now, Darcy was more than willing to give it.
Leaning forward, she let her tongue trace the line of his finger before she took a taste of the sweet confection he was offering. It was a little bit of sensory overload—the saltiness of his skin, the sweetness of the chocolate, the heat of it all—and it left her breathless. When she looked up at Ben’s face, his eyes were closed, and she could feel him vibrating with a low moan of pleasure.
She knew exactly how he felt, because she was feeling it too.
When he opened his eyes, he gently pulled his hand away from her and finished the rest of the icing that was on his finger, and then it was Darcy’s turn to moan.
“Next time I taste that,” he said thickly, “it will be to lick it off you.”
And that was all she could take.
Later, it would be hard to say who made the first move, and honestly, she didn’t care. All she knew was that Ben’s arms were around her, his mouth was on hers, and everything suddenly felt right with the universe. He lifted her, and Darcy wrapped her legs around him. Without a word, he immediately began to walk toward his bedroom, and all she could think was yes. With her hands anchored in his hair and her legs locked around his waist, every move kept them close.
The friction was delicious.
As if in the distance, she heard the bedroom door close, and for a second, she could almost see him kicking it shut. At the side of the bed, he didn’t so much as lay her down as he simply followed her to the mattress. One minute, they were upright, and the next, they weren’t. Ben stretched on top of her; the full-body contact was even better than she could have ever imagined. He was so big and hard and strong, and yet he was so careful not to crush her.
But then he moved, and Darcy had no choice but to open her eyes. He was sitting up, straddling her, as he unbuttoned the flannel shirt he was wearing. Her hands twitched to help him or to rip the shirt open herself, but his gaze held her pinned in place. He peeled it away and revealed a thermal shirt under it, and she almost couldn’t help but laugh at her frustration at all the layers he was wearing. As if reading her mind, he began to chuckle too.
“Had I known this was happening when I got dressed, I would have skipped a layer.”
“Good to know,” she replied breathlessly and silently cheered that she had far less to remove when they got started.
As soon as the thermal was gone, Darcy reached up to touch him. She wanted to sit up and kiss his chest, which was p
erfectly sculpted, but his position on her prevented that. So she squirmed enough to make him shift, and once she could move, she immediately began raining kisses on his heated skin. Ben fisted her hair in his hand and gave her a minute before he gently tugged her head away.
“One of us is still overdressed,” he growled.
It was on the tip of her tongue to say they both were. He had only taken his shirt off. She wanted—needed—more skin-to-skin contact. Without even thinking, Darcy reached down and tugged her sweater up and over her head and flung it across the room. Ben’s nostrils flared, and for a moment, she regretted not letting him be the one to remove it.
His hand left her hair and immediately came around to cup her breast.
“I pictured you in lace earlier,” he said as he watched his hand move over her curves.
“Really?”
He nodded. “When I came in from shoveling and the whole house smelled of your baking, I imagined you in an apron and lace and stilettos.”
She smiled up at him mischievously. “That’s a pretty specific image.”
He nodded again. “And if there were any way to make it happen right now, I’d take you out to the kitchen and do it.”
The wheels in her mind were already spinning.
“No stilettos,” she replied with a pout. “But everything else…”
Ben seemed to be considering it but then shook his head as he gently pushed her onto her back and stretched out over her. “Later,” he said as he lowered his head to her breast. “Much, much later.”
* * *
Darcy was sprawled on her stomach beside him as Ben traced lazy circles on her back. All he could think of was how soft her skin was.
And how she had completely rocked his world and turned it upside down.
Her eyes were closed, and he had a sneaking suspicion she was asleep, but he didn’t want to say or do anything to break the mood or the silence. And honestly, he needed a moment to wrap his brain around everything that had happened.
It wasn’t as if he was a virgin or a prude, but sex for him was more of a…well, it was a good and pleasurable act. End of story. What he’d experienced with Darcy was all of that and…damn. He didn’t even have something to compare it to.
Under his touch, she slowly stretched and made a low humming sound.
And just like that, he was turned on again.
Darcy turned her head and looked at him with a sleepy smile.
He was in serious trouble.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“Hey, yourself.” Without thinking, Ben simply shifted them until she rolled over and was tucked in at his side. There was so much he wanted to say and yet not say. The silence was comfortable, and honestly, he was already letting his hands roam up and down her back and her arms, and the softness of her skin was enough to entrance him.
With a small kiss on his chest, she looked up at him. “So…”
Clearly, she was a talker. But rather than respond, Ben arched a brow at her and waited.
She settled against him. “I guess you liked the cake, huh?”
That was the last thing he expected her to say, and he lost it—completely laughed out loud. When he felt her body shaking with laughter beside him, he decided Darcy Shaughnessy brought something to his life he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.
Excitement.
Laughter.
Joy.
“Technically,” he began after a moment, “I never got to taste it.”
“There was the icing,” she corrected. “And you did mention how you tend to eat more of that than anything.”
“It’s really good icing.”
Shaking her head, she made a tsking sound. “Clearly, you’ve never had real icing.”
Ben lifted his head and looked at her. “Are you telling me there is something better out there than icing in a can? Because I’m finding it hard to believe. That’s been my dirty little secret for years.”
In a move he didn’t see coming, she chuckled and then shifted to straddle him until they were chest to chest. “That’s your dirty little secret?” She shook her head. “We’re going to have to work on that.”
Now it was his turn to shake his head. “Uh-uh. That’s the extent of keeping secrets for me.” His tone went serious, more so than he had intended. “I don’t do secrets. My life is an open book. I enjoy my privacy, but what you see is what you get with me. No lies. No pretense.” He paused. “No games.”
The playful expression was gone as she considered him.
“I wanted you from the first moment I saw you,” he said, carefully watching her reaction. “It bothered the hell out of me when your attitude toward me changed, but it didn’t stop the want.”
“So this was to prove—”
“No,” he immediately interrupted with an edge to his voice. “This wasn’t about proving anything. This happened because I find you fascinating and beautiful and sexy as hell. This happened because you’re all I’ve been able to think about.” One hand anchored in her tousled hair and gripped it lightly. “And it’s going to happen again, because I love the way you feel in my arms and when you’re completely wrapped around me.”
He pulled her head down and kissed her with a ferocity he didn’t recognize in himself. And when they broke apart, panting, Ben positioned her so her forehead rested against his.
“And I love the sounds you make,” he stated. “And I want to hear them again.”
Darcy’s gasp was soft, her eyes wide. Ben could tell she was trying to come up with something to say, but he didn’t want that. He didn’t want her coming up with something she thought she should say—he wanted her honesty. The kind of thing that would simply slip out unfiltered.
So rather than wait, he kissed her again. Rolled her beneath him.
And did his best to keep her from thinking of anything other than him for the next several hours.
* * *
“And you’re sure you’re fine? I mean, I know it’s got to be weird and all.”
Darcy looked across the room to where Ben was sitting and reading later that night and had to stop herself from sighing happily. He was in a pair of faded jeans and nothing else, and there was a roaring fire beside him, and all she could think was yum.
“Uh, Darce? You there?”
Oh. Right. Riley was on the phone.
“I’m fine. And this is way better than being stranded at the airport,” she said lightly. “I’ve done some reading, I’ve baked—”
“I feel guilty,” he said miserably.
Just then, Ben looked up and smiled at her—a sexy smile—and she could feel herself blushing. “Well, you shouldn’t.”
“What’s going on with you?” he demanded.
“What do you mean?”
“That was the perfect opening for you to throw a guilt trip at me. You never miss an opportunity to do that. If you have to, speak in code. If you’re in danger, say something about…wildflowers. If you’re hurt, say something about salmon. Or…or if you need me to send in an emergency helicopter, say something about…about…shit! Say something!”
“Are you having a stroke?” Darcy asked mildly. “Because you sound like you’re stroking out.”
Riley muttered a curse. “Look, I’ll admit sending you to Washington seemed like fun, but I had no idea you’d get stuck there. I’ve met Ben, and I like him, and I’m sure you’re fine, but…I don’t know. You seem distracted.”
He had no idea.
“I’m fine. The snow is still coming down, and honestly, I gave up trying to watch the forecast. It will end when it will end, and then I’ll deal with finding a flight home.” She shrugged even though she knew he couldn’t see her. “And I’m willing to wait a few days, because I know there are going to be thousands of people trying to do the same thing. Dad knows I’m safe, and Ai
dan doesn’t need me at the office, so I can let the masses deal with the craziness first.”
“So you’re going to go home and not come back to us?”
“By the time I can leave here, it would almost be pointless to add an extra leg to the trip. We’ll catch up at Christmas, right?”
“Absolutely,” he said, and Darcy could almost hear the smile in his voice. “Savannah and I tossed around the idea of not going home for Christmas, but how could we miss it? Aislynn should spend it with all of her cousins, and I think it’s going to be amazing to have everyone together under one roof.”
“And crowded,” she joked.
“Well, we won’t all be sleeping under one roof. Aidan and Quinn have houses close to Dad’s, so we can spread out at night. But think of Christmas morning with all of the kids!”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s going to be wild, that’s for sure. Dad’s so excited about it, and he’s been in such a better mood since he and Martha got back together. Longest three months of my life.”
“I know. I was talking to him earlier, and you’re right. He sounds good. Content. Not that he was ever not, but I know their breakup was a little hard on him.”
“It was. And as much as we all reminded him that, you know, he hadn’t dated anyone in over thirty years and not all couples stay together forever, I could tell he missed her. She’s so good for him, and I hope they do stay together forever. He deserves to be happy again.”
“It’s still a little weird,” Riley said cautiously. “I know you don’t understand it, but—”
“I get it. I do. But the fact remains that Dad is entitled to a life of his own where he’s just Ian Shaughnessy and not everyone’s dad. You all moved on and had relationships, and you don’t think it was hard on him?”
“It’s not the same, Darce.”
“Maybe not exactly, but he had to get used to his children becoming adults and starting lives of their own. We need to respect him and allow him to have a life of his own. And if that life involves someone other than Mom, then we need to let that happen.”
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