by A. J. Pine
He hesitated to speak, but then she raised an impatient brow.
“Anything,” he said, grateful he at least wasn’t in hot water with both grandmother and granddaughter.
“Don’t break her heart.”
Then she spun her chair back toward the lobby and rolled away without waiting for his reaction.
Looked like their little charade had worked. Only problem was Pearl hadn’t considered the alternative—Charlotte having the power to break his.
He opened his palm to find a key—Charlotte’s key—which had left marks where the metal teeth dug into his skin.
This was nothing new, being given a key to a woman’s room. Hell, he’d been given a key to this woman’s room a time or two before. They’d been here. But she was angry at him, wasn’t she? He’d somehow messed up with that kiss, and now she was sending him to her room?
He didn’t get it, but he also knew he wanted to fix whatever he’d broken, so he waited until Pearl was out of sight before following her path out toward the lobby and back in the direction of Charlotte’s room.
He paused when he got to her door.
“Face it, Callahan,” he mumbled to himself. “One way or another, you’re in deep, and it’s time to either sink or swim.”
He could disappear back to the ranch, ignore what happened tonight and do what he did best by putting his walls right back in place. Or he could cross the threshold of self-preservation and see what happened next.
For several long moments, he flipped the key between his fingers. Then he opened her door and stepped inside.
Chapter Thirteen
It wasn’t difficult closing up the café. Apparently the very public display of affection Charlotte and Ben had put on for the guests expedited the process.
“You two are just the sweetest,” one woman had remarked. “See?” she’d added, turning to her husband. “The stuff I read in my books does happen in real life. How about more of that before our vacation is over?”
The bachelorette party settled up their tab first. “I’m really sorry,” one of the bridesmaids whispered to Charlotte on the way out. “We didn’t realize that, you know, that he was your boyfriend. We were just being silly and having some fun. And probably crossing a line or two. Not appropriate no matter how much alcohol is involved. I really do apologize.”
“Oh,” Charlotte said. “We’re not…I mean, it’s okay,” she added, deciding not to correct the woman one way or another. And then she and the rest of the bachelorette crew filed out of the café.
This had been a night, to say the least.
That word, boyfriend, was still bouncing around in her head as she washed her hands and double-checked the locks on the café doors and on the walk-in cooler in the kitchen.
Ben Callahan wasn’t her boyfriend. Not for real, at least. But—if she was going to get all middle school about it—he was a boy and, now, her friend. Her friend that was either waiting for her in her room or had run for the hills. She wouldn’t blame him for the latter. But if he was there, what came next? She’d needed time to think, time to clear her head, but she was as confused now as she was when he’d walked her back through the kitchen door, her legs still squeezed around his waist.
She moved hesitantly through the kitchen’s swinging door and into the lobby, creating a mental list of possibilities for what might happen if Ben had stayed—and what it would mean if he’d left. She yelped when she found her grandmother perched regally in her wheelchair tapping the fingers of her good hand on the armrest.
“Gran!” she said. “You scared me.”
Pearl Sweeney raised her brows, which made Charlotte feel like she was eleven years old again and had just gotten caught after sneaking a piece of her grandmother’s famous carrot cake out of the cooler at midnight—a cake that was supposed to be served whole for an engagement party being held at the café the following evening.
“I didn’t eat the cake,” she blurted, sounding about as convincing as she had two decades ago when all her grandmother had to do was wipe the cream cheese frosting from the corner of Charlotte’s mouth with her thumb and brandish it as proof.
“Maybe not,” Pearl said. “But about a half hour ago, I saw Ben Callahan striding toward your room with a key in his hand.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Gran, I love you. But I’m a grown woman. Have been for a long time now. If I want to give a man the key to my room, I’m not going to apologize for it.”
Pearl’s face softened. “Oh, sweetheart. Is that really what you think I’m worried about? I’ve got a fire chief waiting in my room this very minute because if you think a broken ankle and wrist is going to stop me from enjoying the pleasures—”
“Okay! Okay! Okay!” Charlotte interrupted. “You’re not shaming my choices. I get it. But just because I said I’m a grown-up doesn’t mean I’m mature enough to hear about my own grandmother’s sexual exploits.”
Pearl laughed, but then her expression fell serious again.
“If you really care about him, and I think you do, then why won’t you consider staying for good? Meadow Valley was once your second home. You fit here. And now that it’s more than your cousin and me who’d love to have you around…” She trailed off.
Carter and Gran. In one place. Two of her favorite people. And then Ben. Not that he’d asked her to stay, but what if he did?
Dammit. She’d only wanted to appease Pearl, but she and Ben had done so well playing their parts that her grandmother was back at it, trying to rearrange Charlotte’s carefully planned life.
She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, then blew out a breath. “Gran, you know I can’t up and leave the practice. Not if I don’t want to be blacklisted from every other practice in the country if I break my contract. I’ve worked so hard and so long to get where I am. It’s not that easy to simply up and start over, you know.”
Her grandmother shrugged. “Sweetheart, you can up and do anything you want to do. The only one who ever tells you no is yourself. Maybe your mama was too big for her small-town britches, but that isn’t you.” She paused. “I have enough help tomorrow. Why don’t you take the day off and think about that.” She flipped a switch on her chair and pivoted away from Charlotte. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have some—what did you call them?—exploits to attend to.”
Charlotte shuddered as her grandmother rolled away, but then she laughed. Losing her grandfather was hard. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what it had been like for Pearl. It was easier to be far away these days knowing, at least, that her grandmother had found love again. That she had Carter here and—as always—a whole town that would do anything for her.
With her heart a little lighter, she made her way back to her room. But the lightness only lasted until she was in front of her door.
What if he was in there? What if he wasn’t? Pearl might have seen him head this way, but he could have changed his mind. She hadn’t yet figured out what to do about how real that kiss felt or how it had made them admit that the week they’d first met had meant more to both of them than they’d initially let on.
Well, this was her room. She had to go in there and deal with whatever lay beyond her door.
“Just pretend it’s a patient,” she said softly. She could walk into an exam room and talk to a kid with tonsillitis or a parent concerned about a fever like it was no one’s business. She knew why too. It was because she had all the answers—or at least, most of them. But science and journals and all her go-to resources had nothing on what was about to happen when she walked through that door. Still, a little pep talk couldn’t hurt.
“Just a patient. Just a patient. Just a patient.”
She whispered her mantra as she squared her shoulders and opened the door.
“Listen, cowboy. I need to—”
She stopped short.
On her bed, wrapped in nothing but a towel from the hips down, was a very handsome, very sexy, very likely naked-under-said-towel, and very sleeping Ben Call
ahan.
Somehow, seeing him like that—quiet and vulnerable and without any sort of mask of bravado—Charlotte had her answer without any sort of data to back it up.
Their kisses were far from shabby, and her heart was miles away from safe.
Since Ben had helped himself to a shower, Charlotte decided to do the same. A few minutes under the soothing spray of hot water might not have cleared her head, but it at least loosened some of the tension her body had been holding on to since she bumped into her grandmother in the lobby.
Charlotte opted for her navy-blue silk robe that hung on the back of the bathroom door. Ben was sleeping. She’d just crawl into bed next to him and—if she could shut off her brain—join him. No talk of feelings or the future. Just your average, everyday, good ol’ night of sleep.
She did little more than towel-dry her hair and run her fingers through it before taking a deep breath and throwing open the door.
Of course, though, Ben was no longer asleep. He was propped up against the headboard on a couple of pillows, his arm behind his head and a big, beautiful, megawatt grin spread across his face.
“Evening, Doc,” he said. “Hope you don’t mind me using your shower. Was feeling pretty ripe after an extra-long day.” But there was something different in the sound of his voice—different from all the other times he’d said those exact same words. The words sounded weighty, like he knew just as well as she did that crossing a line tonight would mean a hell of a lot more than it had before.
“Evening.” Her voice was hoarse, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “Evening,” she said again, fully enunciating the word.
He patted the spot on the bed next to him.
“Unless you really like that spot outside the bathroom,” he teased.
She pressed her lips together and nodded, but as soon as she took a step forward, she pivoted right instead of left and made her way to his side of the bed, balancing on the edge so she could face him.
She wanted to take the reins. She wanted some semblance of control, some pretense of the safety and stability she’d learned to rely on as she built her life and her career.
“That kiss was…wow,” she admitted. “And I appreciate what you were trying to do for my fragile little ego.”
“Doc,” he said. “I wasn’t—”
“I’m not done,” she interrupted, holding on to those reins. He made a motion like he was zipping his lips, and she couldn’t help but laugh.
“I know you didn’t do it to get me into bed,” she added. “And I know that this is all for my grandmother, so she won’t worry or meddle, and you have done a bang-up job playing your part, mister. We sure fooled her.” She huffed out a shaky breath. “I like you, Ben. I like the way I feel when I’m around you, and when you’re not here, I wish that you were. And tonight, when you came to my rescue after Tracy went into labor, I realized how hard I’ve worked to not need anyone to take care of me—but how good it felt when someone actually did. I don’t want to cross any lines we shouldn’t cross, but what if we—”
“Pretended this was real?” he asked, breaking his vow of silence and stealing the words right from her mouth. If they continued to call it pretend, then they could stay safe, couldn’t they?
She worried her lip between her teeth and nodded, knowing that safety had left the building the moment she’d given him the key to her room.
She had no right to ask him this, not when she couldn’t promise they wouldn’t end up hurt. And then there was her grandmother. How much would it hurt her if this all went up in flames and she knew Charlotte and Ben had been lying to her?
Yet here she was, asking for more than she could give, risking the hearts of everyone involved, because just this once she wanted someone to be there for her.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked.
She nodded again.
I want to pretend we’re real.
I want to pretend we could have a future.
I want to pretend I won’t fall for you or hurt you if you fall for me.
But instead she said, “Only if it’s what you want too,” hoping that if he said yes, it meant they were on the same page.
“I want you, Doc. Only you.”
That was all she needed to hear.
She untied her robe and let it fall from her shoulders, where it pooled around her waist.
“Wow,” he said.
She laughed. “You’ve seen me before. All of me.” But her heart beat a little faster now, and her stomach clenched a little tighter—reactions she couldn’t control, reactions that were definitely not make-believe.
He nodded. “I know. You’re beautiful, Doc. I always knew that.” He cupped one of her breasts in his palm and swiped a thumb over her pebbled flesh.
She gasped.
“I feel like I’ve been wading through fog for years.”
She skimmed her teeth over her bottom lip. “And now?” she asked.
“Now it’s lifted, and I can finally see what’s been missing.”
He pulled her to him and kissed her, her chest bare against his.
She got it—living in a fog or the bubble of work, sleep, repeat or whatever you wanted to call what kept her safe. What kept her heart safe. She’d never truly thrown caution to the wind. But that was exactly what they were doing now. She knew the label meant nothing. They could call this pretend, but the wanting was real. How much they wanted and how much they were both capable of giving was another story, one she couldn’t worry about tonight.
Not when his skin was on her skin, his lips on her lips, and there was nothing she could do but ride the wave to wherever it took her.
She undid his towel and slid her hand between his legs. He hissed in a breath as she stroked him from root to tip.
She nipped at his bottom lip as she did it again, and he let loose a low growl that sent her heart racing.
Control. She needed to stay in control if she had any hope of ensuring she’d make it out of this intact. At least, that was what she told herself.
“Touch me,” she said, sliding over his torso and sprawling out on her back next to him.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a grin. “The pleasure is all mine.”
He lay down next to her, propping himself up on one elbow. For a few seconds, all he did was stare.
“What is with you?” she asked with a nervous laugh.
He raised his brows. “I’m just drinking it all in, getting used to seeing you in this new light.”
“You like what you see?” she asked with as much bravado as she could muster.
“I really do,” he said.
Her stomach flipped, and heat rose from her core all the way to her cheeks.
“And who’s in charge right now?” she added.
“You, Doc. One hundred percent you.”
“Well, I’m not going anywhere, so how about less lookin’ and more doin’?”
For a second, they were both quiet. Because she was going somewhere. In little more than a month. Knowing it and dealing with it, though, were two entirely different things. And the last thing she knew either of them wanted to do right now was deal.
She grabbed his free hand and placed it on her breast.
He laughed, breaking the tension.
“Does doin’ include kissing?” he asked, sliding his hand out of the way and kissing said breast.
She let her eyes fall shut and nodded.
He peppered her with kisses from her chest, up her neck and to her waiting lips. His kisses were soft yet strong. And with each touch of his lips on hers, his fingers traced circles on the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh.
“I could do this—just this—all night long,” he said, his lips still on hers.
Her eyes shot open, and she snorted. “You could not.”
He grinned at her, and her stomach flip-flopped again. “You don’t think I could enjoy just kissing and touching you all night long? Because if that’s a challenge, Doc—”
“No!” she cried. “Not a challenge. I believe you!”
Then they both burst out laughing.
Maybe he could do it, which in all honesty was super sweet and kind and even melted her heart. But she wanted to be with Ben tonight, all of her and all of him.
The laughter faded, and with it so did his smile.
“One more chance to back out,” he said. “We can go right back to what we were doing before tonight, and I’d be okay if that was what you truly wanted.”
What she truly wanted was more than she was willing to admit out loud.
“I’m all in if you are,” she said, wondering if he could hear the more anyway. It was right there, on the tip of her tongue and in the rapid beat of her heart.
“I’m all in, Doc,” he whispered, and then the fingers that had been tracing those teasing circles on her thigh slipped between her legs and inside her.
She gasped as her back arched and he kissed her.
Hunger and heat replaced the gentle care of when she first crawled into bed with him. His lips moved down her jaw, her neck, and to her breasts while his fingers—wow those fingers—moved inside her like he’d been given a secret map pointing him exactly where he needed to go to drive her absolutely mad with need.
He nipped at the hardened peak of her breast, and she cried out.
It wasn’t enough. She needed more. Needed him closer.
She wrapped her hand around his length and stroked. He hummed with pleasure.
“Please,” she said, urging him to where his palm was pressed between her legs, his fingers working their magic.
“Do you have—” he started. “I mean, I didn’t bring— I didn’t come here tonight expecting this.”
She nodded, then gripped his wrist so he had to slow his movement inside her. Otherwise she wouldn’t be able to speak.
“I’m…protected,” she said. She’d had the IUD for a couple years now. “And before you, before our first time around…Let’s just say it had been a while. And previous partners have always, you know, covered up.” She laughed nervously. Nothing like bringing up past lovers to kill a mood.