Five minutes later my butt was sore from the hard wood floor, so I got up and lay across the bed. The windows in the room were open and a gentle breeze floated in, the smell of lavender settling on the duvet. My eyelids weighed a ton and I forced them to stay open, staring at the popcorn ceiling, thinking about Ben and not even realizing I'd drifted off to sleep.
***
"Carly honey, everything okay in there, dear?" It was Lou, knocking on my door.
My eyes shot open and I sat up, startled. "Ah, yeah, I'm good, Lou. Just a sec." I climbed off of the bed, ran my hand through my hair and searched in the dark for the door. When I opened it, Lou was smiling.
"Well look what the cat drug in," she said. "I guess you plum needed yourself a bit of a nap, huh?" She eyed my hair.
I patted my head, trying to make myself presentable. "What time is it?"
"It's after ten o'clock," she said. "We was gettin' worried about you. Figured I had better check and make sure you was still breathing right quick."
I crossed my arms. "I missed dinner."
"That you did," she said. "But no matter." She waved her hand to show me she didn't mind. "I saved you some. You hungry? I might could bring it up if you'd like?"
I heard an acoustic guitar playing from the French doors leading out to the deck, and knew it was Ben. "That would be lovely, Lou. Thank you." I glanced at my clothes, which were a wrinkled mess. "I'm just going to freshen up a bit, and then sit on the deck up here. May I eat there?"
"You sure can. I'll prepare a tray for you and bring it up right quick."
"Thanks, Lou. I appreciate it."
She smiled, flicked her head toward the deck and whispered, "Ben looked a little sad when you didn't show up in the dining room. The way he talked about you and all, I think he's a little love struck."
I blushed. "I doubt that."
She nodded. "I don't. I've known that boy since he was nothing but a seed in his momma's belly, and I never seen him like this before. And what with him able to have any girl he wants, too." She winked and pointed her finger at my chest. "But you got a good heart, and I think he sees that."
I didn't know how to respond so I just said, "Thank you. I'll be ready in a few minutes."
I changed out of my wrinkled clothes, ran a brush through my hair, pulled it back into a clip and brushed my teeth before making an appearance on the deck. I opened the doors slowly so I wouldn't disturb Ben.
I know nothing about music, except what I like and what I don't like, and I couldn't say anything about scales, notes or any such things because I didn't know what I didn't know. I just knew that whatever his fingers strummed on that guitar sounded lovely and made him even more sexy than I thought possible. When he stopped I said, "That's beautiful. Did you write it?"
He twisted his head in my direction. "Still am, actually. This is just the refrain. I'm still working on the verse."
I sat in the rocker next to him. "I don't know what that means. I just know that it sounds beautiful."
"Thanks, I've been inspired." He strummed on the guitar. "The refrain is basically the chorus of the song. The verse is the sections where the words are different, but the music is similar."
"Oh, duh. I knew that, about the verse part at least. If you'd said 'chorus' that would have made sense." I listened as he strummed something different. When he finished I said, "Do you write the lyrics before or after the music?"
"It depends. Sometimes the lyrics come to me first and I work around them. Other times I have the music in my head and I write lyrics to match it."
"I hope I get to hear your stuff on the radio some day," I said. "You're really good."
"Thank you. It's nice to know people like what I do." He strummed something that sounded familiar but I couldn't quite place it.
"I know that song. I can't say what it is, but I know it. Did you write it?"
He played more and I realized then that it was a familiar song from the radio, I just couldn't think of the name or the artist. "I like the melody. It's got a nice flow." He put the guitar on his lap, face up. "Missed you at dinner."
"I fell asleep and didn't wake up until Lou came to check on me. I had no idea I was so tired."
"It's the fresh air. It does it to me when I first get here too, every single time. You missed some amazing fried catfish."
"Actually, Lou's bringing me some." I twisted my hands together. "I've never had catfish though, so I'm a little worried."
"Don't be. Lou's a fantastic cook. I'm not a fish fan myself but I'd sell my guitar for her catfish recipe."
"Good to know—in case I ever need a guitar."
Just then Lou came out with my tray. "Here ya go, honey," she said, handing me a tray full of fried and gravy-laden food, a heart attack on a tray. "I put a little extra cheesecake on there for Ben too, seeing as he likes it so much."
"Thank you, Lou," Ben said, taking the smaller of the two pieces. "One piece wasn't enough earlier." He patted his non-existent belly, and I couldn't help but wonder what lay hidden under his shirt. "But no more than this. I have my manly figure to maintain, you know."
"Lawdy be," Lou said. "If Stan had a manly figure like that I'd never leave the bedroom." She flicked her head toward me and winked. "Ya'll stay out here as long as you want. We're fixin' to hit the hay soon so just leave the tray inside on the table and I'll fetch it in the morning."
"Thank you, Lou," I said. "I'm sorry I slept through dinner."
"Oh, don't you be sorry, Carly. It's your vacation. You go and do whatever your little heart desires, ya hear? We'll handle the rest." With that, she turned and left.
I smiled at Ben. "She's so nice."
"They're great people, both of them. This is like a second home to me."
"They seem to adore you." I looked at the fried catfish on the plate. "I know I said I'd try this but I'm not sure I can." It looked like chicken fried steak, only thicker and with a darker breading. "I'm really not big on breaded or fried foods, actually." I picked some of the breading off, revealing the white and brown fish inside. My stomach churned. "Oh God, I can't eat this." I moved the green beans around on the plate with the fork and poked at the mashed potatoes smothered in dark colored gravy. "I don't think I'm all that hungry."
Ben chuckled, set his guitar against the side of his chair and took the tray from my lap. "You'll break Lou's heart if you don't eat it." He took a bite of the catfish and moaned. "But I'll cover for you." He dipped the fork into the green beans and scooped a forkful into his mouth. "You owe me," he said, his mouth full of food. Even with his mouth stuffed with fried catfish, he was hot.
A piece of breading rested on the side of his lip, and I couldn't resist pushing it off. "You had something…" I pulled my hand back. "Sorry."
He clasped my hand with his. "Your skin is soft," he said, rubbing my fingers with his thumb.
Our hands lingered together and it took everything I had not to lean in and touch his lips with mine. Instead, I let my hand gently drop and then quickly took the other fork and dove into the cheesecake. "Oh my God, this is amazing."
He nodded. "So's the catfish, really. It tastes a lot better than it looks. And really, there's not as much breading as you think." He pressed the fork into the tender fish and gathered a piece onto it. "Here, just try a bite." He aimed the fork at my mouth. "Here comes the choo-choo train."
"You're funny." I cringed, but opened my mouth for the food. Hesitantly chewing the piece of breaded fish, I was pleasantly surprised by the non-fishy, smooth flavor. My eyes widened and the sides of my mouth twitched upward. "Oh wow, that is good." My mouth was full of breading and fish. "It's not fishy tasting at all."
He dipped the fork into the mashed potatoes. "How about some of these?" His voice was deep and raw, and God, it was hot.
I looked him in the eyes and licked my lips before opening my mouth just enough for the fork to enter. I swiped the soft, creamy potatoes from the fork in one slow, clean motion, hoping it would get his blood pumping a
little faster. It must have because his mouth twitched ever so slightly.
He touched my mouth with a fingertip. "You left a little," he said, his eyes locked with mine.
It was like porn only with food, and I would burst if something real didn't happen between us soon. I could only play the game for so long before I'd have to throw myself at him, and that was never pretty.
We shared the rest of the meal including the cheesecake, Ben fork-feeding me bites after taking one himself. I loved every bite of all of it, and was incredibly turned on by the sweetness of him feeding me. He must have sensed that because he never stopped smiling. His eyes glistened in the moonlight, a devilish sparkle to them, making an already unbelievably romantic moment erotic at the same time. I wondered how many women had been privy to that smile and those eyes, and what it did to their insides. I hoped it wasn't the norm for him, and that his sexy smile and those provocative eyes were just for me. I shook off the question, instead deciding to enjoy the moment rather than over-analyze it.
"I told you you'd like it. I bet there's more in the kitchen. Wanna go look?"
I couldn't eat more food if I'd tried. It was fabulous and a hundred times better than I'd expected, but even though I'd only eaten half of it, I was stuffed. I leaned back and patted my belly. "There's no room left. Besides, it's not proper manners to go sneaking in the kitchen at night like that."
"First of all, that belly you're patting looks solid as a rock, and secondly, I steal from that kitchen every time I'm here. Stan and Lou would think something was wrong with me if I didn't."
"Well, that cheesecake was really good." I shook my head. "No…no, I can't, but thank you. Maybe tomorrow night?"
"It's a date," Ben said, that sultry grin creeping onto his face all over again.
I switched the subject to avoid puddling into a mess of mushy Carly on the floor. "So tell me about your music. Have you always played the guitar?"
"I have," he said, nodding. "Hold on a sec." He took the tray and placed it inside on the table, then sat back down, guitar back in his hands. "My mom said the first time I played guitar, even though I'd never touched one before, it was beautiful. I was three."
"So your mom plays, too?"
"She did." His shoulders sank, and a bit of sadness took over his tone. "She passed away a few years ago."
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"Yeah, she was fine one day and the next, she was gone. Cancer. The doctors said she knew and decided not to tell me."
"Are you her only child?"
"I am." He nodded. "And it was just us two. My father left before I was born. I've never even met him. So me and my mom were tight."
"That must have been so hard." I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing both of my parents were, at that moment, likely safely tucked in bed, lying next to each other watching reruns of Law and Order or CSI.
"It wasn't easy, but life goes on. The day she died, almost at the very moment she passed, it rained. And it rained the rest of the day. Now every time it rains, I feel like she's showering me with kisses."
I tilted my head. Something about what he'd said seemed familiar but I couldn't quite place it. "You should write a song with that line in it," I said.
He smirked. "Maybe someday I will."
Not wanting to force him to talk about his mother anymore, I changed the subject. "Stan told me magical things happen here, but I don't really believe in that kind of thing. How 'bout you?"
"I think anything's possible but I've never seen anything to validate their theory."
"Seeing is believing."
"Maybe it's not really magic. Maybe the Inn is haunted and ghosts are screwing around."
"That's a better possibility to me, but Stan led me to believe it wasn't ghost-like things as much as it was intangible things, like people falling in love and stuff." It felt a little awkward saying that.
"But you don't believe it's possible to fall in love that quickly," Ben said, recalling our conversation from earlier.
"I don't think it's impossible. I just find it hard to believe it's possible for my ex."
"Ah, so someone can fall in love quickly as long as it's not your ex, or if it is, it's with you?"
"If I say yes to that, does that make me sound like a bitch?" It did to me.
"Not in my book. Actually I don't see how someone couldn't fall in love with you."
Was that another cheesy line or was he trying to tell me something? I wasn't sure how to respond, so I did what I normally do when I'm nervous, made light of the situation. "Many have tried not to, but they've all failed because I'm just that amazing."
"Yeah, I've read that in public restrooms around Atlanta."
I flicked his arm with my finger. "Way to compliment a girl, Ben the musician."
He grabbed my hand. "From what I've seen so far, you are amazing, Carly."
I knew in that instant that something more than a physical attraction was happening between Ben and me. I didn't acknowledge it, but I felt it deep inside, in my bones.
We sat on that deck until the sun rose, talking about everything and anything, from our favorite colors, to our favorite foods, to the liquors we'll never drink again and why. He told me stories about growing up in Atlanta with his mother, and I talked about my parents and growing up north of the city. I shared things with Ben I'd never even shared with my best friends, or even with Matthew. My plans for the future, how I wanted to own my own firm some day. How my fear of iguanas kept me from going to Mexico, his most favorite place in the world.
We talked more about Matthew, though not much, and surprisingly, I didn't feel anything when his name came up. How could I when someone interesting and kind and ridiculously sexy seemed to undress me with his eyes while I spoke?
"Maybe you can go with me to Mexico some day," he said. "And I'll keep the iguanas away from you."
"I might consider it with that promise," I said jokingly, though I wasn't actually joking. A trip with Ben sounded nothing short of heavenly. I was surprised at how attracted to this stranger I'd begun to feel and how comfortable and relaxed I was with him. I'd never experienced anything similar, and even the mention of a trip with him made me want to pack up and go, with or without iguanas.
As the sun rose, we heard Lou and Stan moving around the old house and we realized we needed to head to our rooms, shower and make an appearance at breakfast. I certainly didn't want to blow off two meals in twenty-four hours, and anyway, all of that talking had made me hungry.
"I'll see you at breakfast then," Ben said, stretching as he stood. "Maybe you'd like to head back to the creek with me? You could nap while I work on my songs."
"Actually," I reached my arms up and stretched too, my body stiff from hours in the chair, "that sounds wonderful. But are you sure I won't be disturbing you?"
He placed his hands on my shoulders and pulled me close, bending his head toward me just enough that our foreheads touched. "You're the kind of distraction that inspires me."
His face was so close to mine, his breath so warm against my face, I was intoxicated, mesmerized. I couldn't move, let alone speak.
Ben's eyes darkened and he tilted his head to the left just a touch more. Instinctively my head tilted the opposite direction, and our lips met in a sweet, sensual kiss that sent my heart pounding out of my chest. His lips were silky and sensuous, and heat built up in my throat, sending probing waves all the way down my body, warming particular spots so much I lost my breath. When the kiss ended, a soft, guttural sound escaped my lips. Ben took that as a sign, and eased his lips onto mine again, first kissing lightly and then deepening the connection with his tongue. It made my body ache with a desire I'd never felt. When the kiss ended, I was disappointed.
He pulled back and pressed his forehead into mine again. "I'll see you at breakfast then?" His voice was deep and soft and it made me weak in the knees.
My head pumped up and down fiercely, but I couldn't speak. He grinned mischievously as he opened the door for me. "Don't fall as
leep again. I'll be waiting downstairs."
If I didn't know better, I would have sworn I floated into my room, not walked. I threw myself on the bed and let out another guttural moan. "That was incredible," I whispered. My eyes darted to the windows, and realizing they were opened, dropped my voice further. "Seriously, freaking incredible. Now I know why women are so hot for musicians. That kiss—that kiss was unbelievable."
Ben was so many good things wrapped up into one sexy package. He was funny. He was sweet. He said what he thought but not in a way that upset me. Did I mention how sexy he was? I snuggled into the pillow and realized that I wasn't just hot for the musician, I was falling for him. Falling for Ben, the musician that played a few gigs now and then and hung out in the country. I didn't even know if he had a day job or if he could support himself. It wasn't that I wanted a man that made a lot of money. I'd proven that to myself by spending five years with Matthew the job hopper. Money didn't matter, but I didn't know if falling for the musician was smart. I'd come to the Inn to forget. I didn't come to fall for someone. I didn't come to get my hormones pumped up either, but that had happened anyway. I little fling I could handle, but this thing, whatever it was, nudging me toward Ben, this tiny sensation that beat to the rhythm of my heart, was telling me that having a fling wasn't going to happen because my feelings were stronger than that.
Matthew had met and supposedly fallen in love with someone in a matter of months and I'd found that impossible. So what was happening to me?
***
"Ya'll ready for some biscuits and gravy topped with scrambled eggs and bacon?" Stan asked as I walked into the dining area.
"And potatoes, Stan. Don't you forget the potatoes," Lou yelled from the kitchen.
Ben was already sitting at a table, coffee and paper in hand. "I am," he said. "I was up all night and I'm starving." His lips curved upward, filling his face with a smile. That smile melted my insides and made my appendages jello-like.
"Now Ben," Lou said coming out of the kitchen with a tray full of biscuits and a bowl of gravy so full it dripped over the sides and onto the tray. "You know you can't be up all night like that and write another one of them hits. You need your rest."
The Inn at Laurel Creek Page 3