by Kim Karr
He claps my shoulder, the one without the bloodstains. “Bell told us what happened. I think she’s downplaying it. What did you see?”
“What did she tell you?”
“She said he was drunk and that he didn’t really mean anything by it.”
I stare at him. Eye to eye. Man-to-man. “That could be the case. But he was being forceful with her and she was trying to shove him back.” I can feel my stomach lurching.
His face heats in anger. “Oh, Christ.”
“I don’t know how far he would have taken it. I don’t know if he’s done anything like this before. But I know she was scared even if she won’t admit it.”
Jack runs his hands through his hair. “She’s worried he’s going to press assault charges against you.”
I shrug. “Let him. Let him try to explain why I had to shove him off her to begin with.”
His eyes glisten with unshed tears. “I worry about her, you know. She wants everyone to like her. She wants to make everyone happy. But I never thought this guy was like that. I got her the job, for Christ’s sake.”
I take a deep breath. “I don’t know what he’s like. But I saw him with her over the summer and he rubbed me the wrong way. Of course he didn’t push himself on her then.”
He clasps my shoulder again. “I don’t know what you were doing there, but I can’t thank you enough.”
My eyes find his before I respond. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“I will make sure Wyatt knows I’m aware of what went down. You can be sure of that.”
“I hope he gets what he deserves—one way or another.”
He bobs his chin toward the room. “Come on, let’s get back in there before Charlotte has a breakdown. The doctors ordered a CT to rule out a concussion.”
“Did they do one?”
“They took her down when I was waiting for you.”
My pulse pounds as concern courses through me. She’s sitting up drinking a small container of apple juice, making a slurping noise, when we enter the room. I feel slightly uneven as I slow and take the last steps toward her bed, but when she smiles at me around her straw, it eases my worry.
“What did the doctors say?” My voice comes out hoarse.
She sets her drink down, but Charlotte answers, “They said there were no signs of a concussion, but they want her to stay awake for at least the next six hours and—”
“Mom, I got all the instructions. You don’t have to repeat each one,” Bell says.
My palms are sweaty and I wipe them on my pants.
“You should come home with us tonight,” Charlotte says.
“I can make sure she gets home,” I blurt out, not wanting to be away from her.
S’belle’s eyes dart to mine.
“If she’d rather be home, I mean,” I add, not certain what she’s thinking.
“Oh, we appreciate that, but I think she needs to be with us.”
“Charlotte, why don’t we go make sure the front desk has the correct insurance information?” Jack takes her hand.
“Oh yes, of course.” Charlotte picks her purse up off the table.
They both leave and I sit beside S’belle on the bed.
S’belle’s eyes search mine. “You don’t have to stay with me. I’ll be fine.”
I take her hand. “I want to stay with you.”
“What if I’m not sure I want you to?”
“S’belle, why do you always to have to fight me?”
“Why did you run into the arms of another woman the night I told you about the baby?”
I blink at her in confusion. “I didn’t. I haven’t been with anyone since you.”
“Tate told me he saw you at Beck’s that night.”
“I did get really drunk and some chick talked to me, but Beck and Ruby brought me home. I swear.”
“So you were going to sleep with her?”
I shake my head as definitively as I can.
She searches my eyes. “Why did you come tonight?”
I draw in a ragged breath. “I wanted to talk to you. No, I wanted to tell you I was sorry, S’belle, sorry for the way I acted when you told me. I was an asshole. And you were right—I do seem to always think of myself, but I promise . . .”
Her eyes drop to the white sheet on the bed. “Ben . . . we can’t do this. Just go.”
“I’m not leaving without you.”
“Just go home!”
“I can’t do that.”
Her gaze lifts to mine. “Why?”
The question makes me laugh a little, under my breath. I have to think for a moment how to explain my feelings. I lift her chin in my hand. “Some part of me is drawn to you. No matter how long we’re apart, I can’t stop thinking about you. I know you feel it too. And I’m not walking away.”
Silence sweeps the sterile space around us.
She reaches out her neck and kisses me softly on the lips—and the gesture feels like a new kind of kiss, a new beginning.
I smile at her. “So I’m coming home with you.” It’s not a question.
She nods. “Yeah, I guess you are.”
A strange feeling runs through me as I take her hand. I’m not sure what it is, but I feel the connection I always feel when I’m near her grow stronger than it’s ever been.
She pushes some hair from my eyes, and the feel of her fingers on me makes my body burn.
“You have blood all over your shirt,” she says.
I shrug and lean closer to her. “I’m just glad you’re all right.”
She takes my face in her hands and pulls me even closer.
“Okay, honey, that’s all set. We can go now,” Charlotte says, walking into the room.
I quickly jump to my feet.
Jack clears his throat.
“Mom, Ben will take me home.”
“Are you sure?”
“Charlotte, Bell is old enough to make her own decisions. She’ll be fine,” Jack reassures her.
Charlotte turns toward me and hands me a bottle. “She’s to take two of these antibiotics a day, plus Tylenol every four hours, she’s not to fall asleep for six hours, and if she feels nauseated she’s to go to the hospital.”
“I’ll take care of her, Mrs. Tyler,” I promise.
She seems surprised. “Charlotte.”
“Charlotte,” I acquiesce.
She steps closer and gives me a little hug, whispering, “Thank you,” in my ear.
I catch her eyes and nod. I see her throat working to hold back the tears. Obviously Jack filled her in.
Jack takes my hand and covers it with his. “You call us if anything happens.”
“I will,” I assure him.
As soon as Bell is dressed Charlotte and Jack walk us to my car and stand in the parking lot watching as we drive away. I did my best to reassure them, but I think the concern goes beyond her head wound. I get that.
We’re both quiet as I drive from Malibu to LA. My thoughts keep flipping back to what might have happened to her if I hadn’t gotten there in time.
“How long has he been harassing you?” I ask because it’s driving me crazy.
She turns toward me. “He wasn’t really harassing me. But ever since I ran into you I think he could sense I was interested in someone and sometimes he’d make inappropriate comments, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.”
“Inappropriate how?” I ask, my stomach plummeting.
“I really don’t want to think about it. But I promise, today was the first time he actually got physical.”
I shudder at the word physical. The thought of anyone touching her sickens me. I take her hand in mine.
“He wouldn’t have hurt me. I know what you’re thinking.”
I hope she’s right, but it’s over now and we never have to find out. “How about some food?” I say, deciding to lighten the dark conversation.
“I am kind of hungry.”
“Good, because I am too.” I turn and grin at her and then l
ook down at my shirt. “Takeout okay with you?”
“The Kettle has the best broccoli cheddar,” she says.
“You want soup?”
“Yes, when you’re sick you’re supposed to eat soup.”
My head snaps to hers. “Do you not feel well?”
She presses her fingers to her bandage. “I feel fine. You know what I mean.”
I try to control my laughter but feel my shoulders shake. “Sure I do.”
“I can call ahead.”
I grin over at her. “I thought you didn’t eat vegetables.”
Her eyes light up. “Cheese goes with everything.”
This time when I look over at her, I let my laughter fill the car.
CHAPTER 28
Talk Dirty
Bell
While Southern California is being battered by the powerful Santa Ana winds, Ben and I pick up the soups and he takes me to the ridge to look at the city view while we eat.
“Do you believe me about Beck’s?” he asks.
“Strangely enough, I do.”
I place my spoon in my golden cheddar soup deliciously nestled in a bread bowl. “Want to try some?” I ask, pulling the spoon now laden with soup toward my mouth.
“I’ll pass. Even cheese can’t conceal the broccoli smell. Brings back nightmares from my childhood.”
I think about him as a child for a moment and how cute he must have been. “Did you have to sit at the table until you ate all your vegetables?”
His teeth graze his own spoon slurping in a giant noodle. Once he swallows he says, “Something like that. For me it was more like I had to sit at the table until I could get my dog to eat all my vegetables.”
God, he was a bad boy even as a kid. I find that oddly to be a turn-on. Watching him eat has my stomach yearning with desire and not for food. “We had a dog too. A golden retriever named Beat.”
He laughs. “That makes sense since your dad was in the music business.”
“What was your dog’s name?”
A gleam enters his eyes, one I’ve never seen. “Kahuana. He was the biggest, baddest, chocolate Lab you could ever have seen.”
I laugh. “Sounds like ‘Leroy Brown.’”
Seemingly lost in his thoughts still, he looks at me questioningly.
“The song ‘Bad, Bad Leroy Brown.’ He was meaner than a junkyard dog.”
He shakes his head at me again. “Yeah, something like that. Can I ask you something?” His tone changes to something more serious.
“Sure,” I say, blowing on my soup.
“That night I came over and you pulled out a bottle of wine, I saw vodka on your counter too. Are you drinking again?”
I tense up while his eyes study my face. “No, I never drank any of what I bought. I thought about it. I opened the bottles. Even poured a glass or two but never drank a drop.”
His hand moves to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.
I jerk away, moving to swat his hand. “I’m not like my father. I’m not an alcoholic, you know.”
He catches my wrist and gently closes his fingers around it. “I know that and it doesn’t matter anyway. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
My heart beats faster, as if it’s reaching for him. “I am.”
The moment suddenly feels too serious.
“Good, because I’m the jackass that got so drunk that night at the bar I couldn’t remember where I parked.”
“You didn’t drive home, I hope?”
“No, Beck drove my bike home, and believe me, he was not happy.”
We finish our soups and talk about fun things we did as kids. When we’re done and heading back, I stare out the windows watching the trees sway side to side. It seems as though so much time has passed since our first dates. But in actuality not that much time has passed; it’s more that much has happened between us.
Before I know it we pull up to my apartment building. He puts the car in PARK and turns to me. “You know, I really missed you.”
I smile. “I know.”
He shakes his head, somewhat amused, I think.
I leave him there pondering my answer and open the door to get out.
He catches up to me just as I’m climbing the steps. Once we hit the top, he grips my hips. “And how do you know that?” he growls in my ear.
I breathe him in—that scent I’ve missed for far too long makes me feel a little dizzy. I stabilize myself and take my keys from my purse. “Because I missed you too.”
Then I turn to face him. He’s staring at me, his eyes gleaming. “That strangely makes sense,” he says, and takes the key from my hand before leaning in to place a soft kiss on my lips.
The heat between us intensifies and he pulls away, caressing my cheek and motioning for the door. When we get to it, he quickly shoves the key in the lock. I stand behind him as close as I can and rest my chin on his shoulder to peer down.
He twists his neck around to see me. “What are you doing?”
I grin, liking the feel of his body so close to mine. “Making sure you know how to unlock the door.”
“You know, I could use a little direction,” he says.
I press closer into him. “You insert the rod into the hole,” I whisper into his ear. My voice is low, raspy with desire.
His body stiffens and his breathing is rough.
I close my eyes and feel a rush of excitement. “Next you turn it and pull it out.”
He twists the key ever so slowly. “Like this?” he asks in that husky voice that makes me throb between my legs.
My own breathing picks up and I’m shamelessly panting. If I never understood kinetic energy before, I do now. He grabs the door handle and quickly pushes it open, ushering me by him at a rapid speed. I take the key from his hands. “Then you—” I start to say as I turn around to lock the door, but I’m silenced when his hard body meets my back.
He grips my hips and his lips find my neck. “Are you sure you’re up to this?”
I try to catch my breath, but all my air is gone. I let my head fall back on his shoulder. “I’m sure. I don’t want to wait any longer.”
He flips me around and runs his hands down the side of my body. “Do you have any idea how badly I want you?”
“Show me just how bad,” I breathe huskily over his lips.
His eyes close and he shudders.
“Ben, stop thinking.”
His eyes open at the sound of my voice, and they have never been bluer. “I’m trying to figure out if we should be doing this after everything that happened tonight.”
I bring my hands to his face. “He didn’t attack me. I wasn’t really afraid, just startled. I’m okay. This is okay,” I reassure him, my body aching for him in a selfish way.
He stares into the depths of my eyes and brings a hand up to stroke my cheek. “We’ll take this slow.”
I slide my lips to his hand and kiss it, nodding.
And again he stares into my eyes. And then as if he can’t take another minute of restraint, he slides his knee between my legs. My chest rises and falls with an intensity I’ve never felt before. He brushes the hair from my forehead and softly kisses above my bandage. I wrap my arms around his neck and throw my head back as he feathers kisses down my neck. He kisses behind my ear, and a hum of some kind escapes my throat. He groans at the sound. My breath is shallow but fast. Finally he moves to my mouth. My lips part and when he presses his to mine, I slide my tongue inside his mouth and across his lower lip. I want to explore every part of his gorgeous mouth and I want him to do the same, but I know my breath must smell really bad right now.
“Ben?” My voice is shaky.
He pulls away to search my eyes.
My palms flatten on his chest and I can feel his heart pounding. “I need to brush my teeth.”
Obviously fighting off laughter, he presses himself into me and kisses me even harder, deeper. “You taste delicious. You always do,” he says.
I melt back against the wall and b
and my arms around his waist. “You sure?”
“I’m sure,” he chuckles.
“Okay, then.”
“Besides I don’t want to wait another minute to see you naked,” he growls, and then promptly lifts me off the floor.
I flick my shoes off one at a time and hear each clatter against the floor. Then I wrap my legs around his waist and ask a question I already know the answer to. “Where are we going?”
He slides his hands up and down my sides. “To your room.”
“I liked the wall,” I purr.
“If I fucked you against the wall, I’m afraid you’d bang your head against it. Let’s keep to soft surfaces like the mattress. I told you we were going to take this slow, and besides, we’ve already done the wall.”
I place openmouthed kisses down his neck, tasting him with each lick and suck. “What if I don’t want slow?”
“Good thing I’m the one in control, then,” he says, and my heart races at his tone.
“Maybe that’s where I want to be,” I tease and run my nails down his back—hard.
“Fuck,” he groans, lowering me to the floor in my bedroom. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”
“Did I tell you I’ve dreamed about you almost every night since the library?” My fingers trail to the buttons on his shirt and I undo them one by one.
“Tell me what you dreamed,” he says in a seductive voice.
“I dreamed about you delivering pizza to my apartment but I had no money to pay you, about you pulling me over and me trying to get out of a speeding ticket, about you being my doctor and me needing a very thorough exam.” Okay, so really I dreamed about him and me lying together, naked, happy, just us, but I want my dreams to sound a little sexier than they actually were. And I don’t want to scare him off.
His tongue caresses my earlobe. “Did all of your dreams end in me fucking you?”
“Um . . . hmm,” I answer, shivering when his tongue slides inside my ear.
His breathing accelerates at a rapid speed. “Good, because your dreams are about to come true.”
I fumble with the last few buttons of his shirt, my entire body trembling in anticipation. He looks down at my hands and then rips the rest of his bloodstained shirt off, the remaining buttons flying to the floor. He looks at my pale pink silky top also spotted with blood and with his fingers gripping the V of it, he tears it right down the middle and pushes it off my shoulders to reveal my matching pink bra.