by Leigh Morgan
He didn’t. With a growl deep in his throat Ben sank into her arms. He made love to her slowly, fully. What he hadn’t counted on was Becky making love to him. She gave not only her body, but her spirit.
And in the morning, after his first real night’s sleep in weeks, Ben woke with a smile on his face. Only to find Becky was gone.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Ben padded into the kitchen in his boxers, his hair standing on end, a fierce scowl marring his craggy handsome features.
“Where is she?” He demanded.
“Good morning, Ben. I didn’t know you were staying.” Ram grinned at him. “Something tells me it wasn’t in your room.”
Ben crossed to the coffee pot, poured himself a mug from the designer mug tree and made his way to the table next to Ram. He grunted in response.
“You know my wife and step-daughter could come in any minute and see your lovely paisley silk boxers.” Ram teased.
Ben finished his coffee too quickly, enjoying the burn. “Your wife had you in her bed, she won’t even notice I’m not dressed, and Hunter, God bless her, would rather look at Becky than at me.”
Ram couldn’t argue with that. “Why do you keep calling her ‘Becky’?” Ram asked curiously.
Ben didn’t even bother looking up. “Because that’s who she is.”
“I haven’t known Becca to use any name but ‘Becca’.” Ram said.
“That’s just her name. The name she uses anyway.” Ben looked up from his mug and looked directly at Ram, challenge evident in his eyes. “That’s not who she is.”
Ram looked at his friend. He’d never seen Ben Stark, Mr. Cool himself, this off his game. A slow smile split Ram’s face.
“Oh man. Have you got it bad.”
Ben grunted in reply and got himself another cup of coffee.
Ram laughed silently until he had tears in his eyes. Oh how the impenetrable have fallen, Ram thought, feeling imminently superior. He wouldn’t have been laughing if he had any idea how deep his own woman trouble was going to get.
“You poor putz.” Ram said still chuckling.
“Asshole.” Came Ben’s surly reply.
...
Ben’s misery improved Ram’s mood considerably.
That was until he got to his bedroom and saw Rhia throwing clothes into her beat up old suit case. The same one she’d finally got back after the airline lost it on her trip to Wales.
“What are you doing?” He demanded.
She didn’t look at him, she didn’t even slow down, she just kept moving her things from the dresser to the suitcase lying open on their bed.
“Packing.”
“I can see that. Why?”
“I’m leaving.” The love of his life answered, stuffing an ugly red sweater into the outside pocket of her case.
Ram grabbed her arm stilling her. “Rhiannon, look at me.” He demanded. “Rí, honey, what’s going on?”
Rhia wasn’t swayed by his bare-chested sexuality or the softness in his apple-green eyes. “Ever since I met you my life has been turned inside out. We’ve been so busy putting out fires since we got back here that we’ve never addressed our biggest issue.”
Ram felt his insides run cold. He let go of her arm and tried not to let his rapidly beating heart overwhelm him. “And exactly what is our biggest issue?” He asked with a calm he didn’t feel.
Rhia looked at him and Ram could read sorrow and regret in her eyes. “We are. This was a mistake from the start. We come from completely different worlds.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ram demanded, louder than he intended.
Rhia stopped packing and looked at him. He had his arms crossed over his chest like he always did when he was starting to get angry and didn’t want to explode. He was sexy as sin with his light brown mustache and goatee and three days worth of stubble on the rest of his face. What hurt Rhia the most was that she loved him. She probably always would. That didn’t mean that she’d ever fit into his world.
“William is coming to pick up Hunter and Ethan today. He’ll drop off a copy of the slander suit he drafted for you. Hunter starts school in a few days. William asked to have her stay with him then. We both think Ethan should stay with him.”
“Goddamn it, Rí. I asked why you want to leave, not for your kids’ itinerary. And speaking of kids, you happen to be carrying mine or has that little fact escaped you?” Ram didn’t let the tears welling in her eyes dissuade him. He was afraid if he stopped now he’d lose her for sure. He had to know what was bothering her so he could fix it. He was guessing about the pregnancy, but it fit. She’d been more emotional over the past few weeks, and the T.V. footage of her at the OBGYN Clinic was a pretty big clue. Why hadn’t she told him?
Because she was leaving.
The truth sucked he air right out of his lungs.
“I told you. You have your world, I don’t belong there. And yes, I know I’m carrying your child. I have no intention of keeping this child away from you after it’s born. But right now this child resides inside me and I have no intention of staying here.” Rhia swallowed her tears and resumed packing.
She’d liquidated all her accounts and William was buying out her equity in the house. She had all the cash she’d need for a year, maybe two. Long enough to decide what the hell she was going to do with the rest of her life.
“What ‘world’ are you planning on running to?” Ram sneered.
“One where I’m not on national T.V. punching a woman I hardly know. One where I have a career and a house that’s mine. One where I can walk across the street and not have to worry about how it’s going to affect your album sales. Or how about this...” She was panting now. “How about a world where my husband isn’t accused of impregnating three women...at the same time.” Rhia screamed.
I will not cry...I will not cry...
Every word was like a physical blow raining down golf-ball sized hail on Ram’s head. And he couldn’t dispute any of them.
When Ram didn’t respond, Rhia felt her stomach drop to her toes. She didn’t know what she expected. It wasn’t like she expected him to stop her, to fight for her, but she didn’t expect his silence either.
Rhia’s shoulders slumped as she closed her suitcase. If she needed anything else she’d buy it when she got there. She couldn’t bear to stay here pretending to live a life that was so far out of her reach with a man she couldn’t help but love one second longer than she had to.
“Don’t worry Ramsey. I’ll sign whatever settlement your lawyers draft. I don’t want your money.” Rhia couldn’t help the catch in her throat. This was really happening. She’d started it in motion and it was really happening.
It’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? Rhia shook off her doubt. She didn’t have time for it, she had a plane to catch, and she’d already said good-bye to her children.
Tears welled in her eyes again as she tried to take off her wedding ring. She wasn’t about to keep something that meant so much to Ram. Unfortunately her fingers had swollen with her pregnancy and she couldn’t get it off.
Ram was across the room stilling her hand as soon as he saw what she was trying to do.
“Don’t do it, Rí. Don’t you take that ring off your finger. It’s yours. It was meant for you. I swear to Christ, woman, I’ll haunt you every day you don’t wear that ring.” Rhia had never heard him address anyone with such menace in his tone.
He shook her once to make his point. Then he kissed her harshly, almost painfully. He was out the door before she could respond.
Rhia didn’t need to take off his mother’s ring for him to haunt her. The haunting had begun the second Ram slammed the door on his way out.
He was letting her go. Just like that, he was letting her go.
And she was a damned fool for pushing him into it.
...
Ram stormed into the bathroom of Ben’s suite and threw open the shower door. In Ben’s current state of mind, he didn’t even think to protest.
Ben rinsed the shampoo from his hair, starting to feel human again. “Unless you want to watch me scrub my ass Macleod, shut the damn door.”
Ram shut the door. Ben hoped he hadn’t looked half as pathetic this morning as Ram looked now, although he knew he had. Ben felt better now because he knew where Becca was going. He had a pretty good suspicion that it was the same place Ram’s wife was headed so Ben didn’t mind the trip, in fact he was looking forward to it.
Ben laughed without mirth. “I guess we’re both screwed now, hey buddy?”
Ram raked a hand through his hair. “Not if I can help it. I’ve got a couple of calls to make before I make any promises. But if all goes well, we’ll be screwing instead of being screwed by the end of the week.”
For all his bravado Ram was shaking. In fact, he wanted to puke.
He’d finally found a woman who made the circus he used to call a life worth looking forward to and he’d just let her walk out the door.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“You two have been moping around here for weeks. This is no place for two beautiful women to be hiding out. Go find your men, already and end this charade.” Flossie ordered between handfuls of popcorn.
“We’re too fat for clubbing at the moment, and neither one of us has a man.” Becca retorted trying to steal some of Flossie’s corn. The small woman was old, but quick. Becca’s hand fell short of the bowl.
“You’re not fat. You’re eating for two.” Flossie said, black eyes twinkling.
Becca laughed, a deep throated rumble that Rhia envied. She was thankful Becca agreed to come with her, they had laughed, cried, and argued their way into a true friendship.
“She’s eating for two.” Becca nodded toward Rhia. “I’m just eating. And enjoying every single bite, I might add. Hey did that new cook of yours pick up the rocky road ice-cream?” Becca asked, knowing that the mention of the new help Ram insisted on hiring was a sore spot for Flossie. She shared a smile with Rhia when the older woman rose to the bait.
“That boy wouldn’t know rocky-road from neapolitan.” Flossie grouched.
Rhia laughed. “That boy is sixty years old if he’s a day. And you wouldn’t know your junk food either if Ram didn’t insist that it be stocked here.” Rhia’s smile faded at the mention of her husband’s name.
She hadn’t seen him or heard from him since she left almost a month ago. He knew she was here, he talked to Becca almost every day about their upcoming travel schedule, but he hadn’t asked to speak with her. He hadn’t sent the divorce papers yet so at least that was something, Rhia thought, rubbing her distended belly. There was no mistaking the small bulge where Ram’s child rested.
Becca didn’t like watching Rhia’s spirits fade. They’d been at Pentla House almost a month, and when Becca wasn’t rehearsing, she was helping Rhia with her research on Celtic women. Becca had learned a lot about warrior women and the men who were strong enough to love them. She’d learned even more about Rhia.
Rhia was focused and contemplative. She also had a stubborn streak a mile wide. Rhia just didn’t know how, or when, to quit. Rhia made friends with complete strangers, not because she was innately gregarious, but because she was honest and open, not to mention truly interested in what others had to say.
She defended Ram even when she was far from blind to his faults. And she’d opened her heart to Becca even knowing most of Becca’s sordid history. Becca didn’t want to see Rhia hurt. She just didn’t know how to help her new-found friend. Becca yelled, cajoled, ranted, and raved, trying to get Ram to relent and come and get his wife. She told him he was a fool if he couldn’t see that Rhia was the best thing that happened to his sorry existence.
All for nothing.
Ram listened and then politely gave Becca a list of dates and appearances he was trying to book. The man was carved from ice and if he couldn’t see how great Rhia was, then he didn’t deserve her.
Becca got up and rubbed Rhia’s tummy. “I’m getting some ice-cream. Does the little squirt want some?” She asked, hoping to chase her friend’s frown away.
Rhia smiled at her. “No thanks. But bring some for Flossie. Woman cannot live on pop-corn alone.”
Flossie scowled at her. “If you two don’t go harness your men soon, I’m finding you both cats and teaching you how to knit.”
“I’d like to learn how to knit.” Becca shot back.
“So would I.” Rhia added. “I never had the time to learn while prepping for my classes and researching for the college.” Rhia smiled at Becca. “We could sit around and knit socks or maybe a tank-top for when we’re ready to brave the clubs again. Whaddaya’ think?”
Becca winked at Rhia, returning her smile. “Go fetch your knitting needles Flossie and bring on the cats. We’re in for the long haul.”
Flossie finished her pop-corn, muttering between bites. “It’s the hormones. Makes breeding women crazy.”
“Woman.” Becca said on her way to the kitchen. She’d been hungrier in the past month than she could ever remember being. She had the hips to prove it, she thought, wondering why she was so pleased at the thought. “Breeding woman, Flossie. Not women.”
Becca didn’t hear Flossie reply challengingly, “If you say so Gucci-Girl”, but Rhia did. Her mind filled with conjecture.
Flossie didn’t make predictions that didn’t come true.
...
Ben poured himself a scotch from Ram’s mini bar wondering just how long they were going to be stuck in this damned hotel in Cardiff while the women they loved were enjoying all the creature comforts of home less than an hour away.
Ram hung up the phone.
“Well?” Ben asked.
“This is the third time this week she’s chewed my head off. I swear if I hear Becca tell me how stupid and worthless I am one more time I’m going to strangle your future wife before you have a chance to ask her to marry you.” Ram grouched. He was tired and he already knew how worthless he was without Rhia. He felt it every second, of every minute, of every day.
Ben took a sip of his drink. “How do you know I’m going to ask Becky to marry me?”
Ram smirked at him and quirked a brow.
“It’s a bitch loving a stubborn woman isn’t it?” Ben took another sip saying. “I’m going to ask Becca to be my wife…and I know you’re going to ask Rhia again. So what makes you believe either of them will have our sorry asses now?” Ben said, downing the rest of his scotch in one long swallow.
Ram grinned at Ben, thankful he wasn’t sharing these tortuous weeks alone. “A little Welsh witch told me.” He laughed when Ben looked at him like he’d lost his mind and poured himself another finger of scotch. Ram waited until Ben was mid swallow to elaborate.
“By the way, Flossie also told me Becca is carrying your baby. Although she doesn’t know it yet.”
Ben spat scotch across the room. “What?”
Ram loved lowering the boom. Now Ben really could relate to the desperation Ram was feeling. Payback was a mean bitch indeed.
“This has got to end. When will everything be ready?” Ben asked pacing.
“Another week. Two max. I’ve hired people from all over to finish up, you know what a big job it is. You designed the security system.” Ram shrugged. “And the paperwork has also taken longer than it should have taken.”
“Believe me, I’d rather be watching Rí get fat than be here listening to you bitch while you mope. By the way, you snore.”
Ben ignored him. “A baby? You’re sure?”
Ram shrugged. “Flossie’s sure. When have you known her to be wrong?”
Ben dropped into the chair across from Ram. Their two bedroom
suite was a mess, but that didn’t matter. Neither did the fact that they were running themselves and each other ragged while they tried to make this thing come together. Two men, Ben mused, should not be in charge of planning a wedding, but that didn’t matter either.
He was going to be a father. They both were. “I’m going to kidnap Becky if she turns me down. You’ll have to find a new keyboard player.”
Ram grinned. “Tell you what, I’ll kidnap Rí too.” He got up and poured them both a drink. “Just think Ben. Thanks to my wife we’ll have a dungeon to keep them in.”
“Are we rehabbing the dungeon?” Ben asked.
“I’ll get the men right on it.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Flossie drove to Neath to pick up some trash magazines and the local paper. She smiled all the way there, and all the way home. She spread the papers on the kitchen table, next to a plate of scones and a pot of butter she’d purchased for the girls. Those two sure liked their bakery and they weren’t shy about eating these days.
Flossie couldn’t wait to see the look on their faces. Especially on that beautiful Becky’s face when she realized that she wouldn’t be fitting into those thousand dollar jeans anytime soon, no matter how many sizes she skipped.
Setting the water kettle on to brew, Flossie made one last adjustment to the artfully displayed scandal sheets and waited for the fireworks to begin.
...
“That Bastard. That dirty low-down-rat-bastard. And there he is in the background. Dirty-low-down-rat-bastard number two.” Becca’s consummate diction flew out the window as her accent reverted to hills. She was all Becky now. Becca had officially left the building.