by Kendall Duke
Now we had the whole place to ourselves, the glorious front room dedicated to making our music. And honestly, I think that might be as much the key to my happiness as making love to the most beautiful woman in the world every night.
I get to make music with my best friend every day.
I’ve never had a friend like that. Not a real one. Not one that always tells the truth, even when it hurts, who can’t help but come to my defense even if it means she’s going to be called a bitch by a million people in the Youtube comments, who looks me in the eye and says she will love me forever, no matter what, even if I get old and stinky and not to worry too much if I do because she knows how to deal with old and stinky, no problem. But I better not get too stinky… And then she grins at me and winks.
I mean… Benji is the best thing that ever happened to me.
I should’ve known when she told Tony to fuck off that I would love her forever. That the tiny, sex-bomb brunette behind the bar would hold my heart in her hand for the rest of my life, and probably whatever came after.
I was definitely on-board for old and stinky. And anything else, if it meant being with her.
But… Maybe she didn’t feel like that any more? Stranger things had happened to me. And I’d been so fucking happy… I hadn’t let my guard down—I didn’t have a guard, with Benji. No defenses. Nothing.
It’d been a year.
We finished her album. We’d started working on mine, even; she told me she’d never had so much fun. We made a fair bit of money—well, a lot of money—from her singles; most of it went to paying off her mom’s medical bills, but now we were updating their farm and hiring a lot of help over there so her brothers could live regular lives. She was happy, I thought. We were all happy.
Except Tony and those guys. But they still had Groovebone, technically, even if everyone could already tell the band was completely different without me. When Benji read articles about their fall from grace out loud, cackling maliciously, part of me couldn’t help but feel vindicated. But kicking their asses all over the goddamn yard felt better, and that—out of everything that had happened—never hit the papers. Clearing the air with Tony’s dad and sending him a Christmas card felt best of all. He held nothing against me; one day, we both just hoped Tony grew up.
But I wasn’t holding my breath.
I had more important things—more important people—to worry about now.
“Baby?” I realized I was still standing in the middle of the living room, surrounded by the detritus of recording. I blinked over at her, trying to pull my mind back from the panic. “Leo? You okay?” I wasn’t fooling her. She came towards me from the hallway, her hands outstretched, and I couldn’t even stop myself from reaching for her. She tucked her face against my chest and nestled in, wrapping her arms around my back. “You can tell something’s up, can’t you.” It wasn’t a question, and my heart erupted into rapid pounding.
“T-t-t-tell what?” Fuck. Fuck.
“Baby?” Benji leaned back, her shrewd eyes narrowing as she gazed up at me. “I… Are you mad?”
“P-p-please t-tell me what you’re talking about.” I was so upset. I felt like a fucking… I don’t know. Like the ground was disappearing under my feet. Benji’s eyes widened and she used her hands to pull me over to the couch. I knew my face wouldn’t show it to anyone else—no one could read me, and I frightened off most of the people who tried. I was still an intimidating guy. But… Not with her. Never. I spent an entire lifetime building up walls she knocked down in one night. I knew that from the outside my face was preternaturally still, my arms flexing like I was getting ready for a fight. But that’s because I was terrified, and Benji knew it. She sat down across from me and pulled my hands into her lap, looking up at me.
“I’m so fucking glad I cut your hair,” she murmured, “or you might’ve gotten away with feeling this shitty for longer.” I waited, unable to bring myself to try to speak again, and she squeezed my fingers. “Baby, I was thinking of asking if I could do a cover.”
Okay, not at all what I was preparing myself for. Thankfully, the confusion dissipated some of the tension in my body and I raised my eyebrow, still waiting. She sighed as she watched the clinging wariness in my face.
“I want to do a cover of The Kissing Game. For your album.”
Whoa. Not even remotely what I anticipated. “Y-you want to put it on m-m-mine?”
“Yes,” Benji said, and the firm set of her plump lips brooked no misunderstanding. “I guess you could tell I was thinking about it, huh?” She smiled tentatively up at me. “You must be psychic.”
“No,” I said softly, studying her.
“Leo,” she said, misinterpreting my answer, “I think it’s important you reclaim that album—at least a little bit. I know you can’t go full-on about it, but you can release a free EP.” Her eyes widened. “I… I think it’s important for you to do it, and, selfishly… That song means a lot to me,” she said, her voice softer. “And a lot of girls like me. And boys like you. And on a personal note, it’s so important not only because of what it meant to me when I was young, but because of how it brought us together.” She sighed. “I love you so much. I think it’d be a good way to start a new chapter. A new way to look back, and look forward.” Something still wasn’t right. The earnestness in her voice made me squeeze her fingers reassuringly, because I understood that even though something was strange, it wasn’t about us. It wasn’t about me—and hell, even if it was, I would do my best to take care of her. That’s all I cared about.
“I thought y-y-you were breaking up w-with me,” I said, forcing the words out. Benji stared at me in shock.
“We’re getting married in a week!” She shrieked into the perfect acoustics of the room, ripping her hands away in a panic and flapping them in the air. “We’re finishing our wedding song!”
“I kn-kn-know,” I said, and I hated how my voice was this awful signal, this way of telling everyone how damaged I was—
“Stop,” she said seriously, and I looked down at her again. As soon as she picked up on my thinking, Benji sat back down on the couch and focused on me. Her bottom lip trembled, and she grabbed my hands and came closer to my body, her eyes burning into mine with that undeniable energy. “Can’t you see? This is why. This is exactly why I want to re-do that song.”
“I don’t—”
“I don’t know the words you’re saying in your head when you look like that,” she told me, “but as someone who has studied your lyrics like a goddamn cryptographer, I have a pretty good idea.” Benji squeezed my hands, tight. “You are a stuttering rockstar, Leo,” she said grimly, staring into my eyes. “You are a brilliant musician who has been taken advantage of by the people he trusted—until you were able to trust nobody. You have spent your whole life alone, in spite of the fact that you are the kindest, most patient, thoughtful, beautiful man in the world.” I swallowed, the rapid shift from lonely panic to togetherness inside of me bringing tears to my eyes. “You are my heart,” she said, and there were tears in her eyes too. “You aren’t the guy no one would play with any more—hell, you never were. But more importantly, now, you’re mine. And I’ll be goddamned if I ever have to have this conversation again.” She stared fiercely up at me. “I want to book-end it. I want it over. I want you to know, in here—” She gently placed her palm over my heart— “That it’s always you and me. Forever. And ever and ever and ever.”
I nodded and pulled her into my arms, unable to keep myself from holding on to her as I felt the pain her presence kept at bay begin to course through me again… But this time, I realized… It was leaving. Swelling in a final tidal push before it joined the aether. The panic that superseded it, the years of loneliness that preceded that… I was ready to move on. To feel the reality of my life, and stop being scared that this was all a dream.
“I l-l-love you,” I whispered, and she dug further into me, tightening her grip.
“I love you,” she whispered back.
“I think you would do a really l-lovely cover of that song,” I said softly. She leaned back and smiled up at me, then kissed my lips. I was about to pull her down next to me on the couch when she suddenly groaned and stood up, pressing into the small of her back with the heels of her hands as she did. “Where are you going?”
“To the kitchen,” she said, stomping across the room and trying not to knock everything down in her hurry. “I’m starving!” Some sheet music skittered across the floor; it would almost have been funny, if my heart weren’t still skipping beats.
“Babe. We ate an hour ago.” I stood up to follow her, feeling a little confused. Up, down, all around—Benji wasn’t exactly predictable, but wow, that was a roller-coaster ride. At least for me. I cracked my knuckles and wondered if I could work on the song instead; she probably wouldn’t mind. I was just about to sit back down when I heard her hands slap the broad wooden threshold of the entryway.
“We ate an hour and a half ago,” she said, spinning on her heel to give me another big grin, hanging from it for a second before she stood up straight. Her eyes twinkled. “And also,” she said, taking a deep breath, almost as if she were about to dive underwater, “I’m pregnant.”
I froze again, right in the middle of the room, and gaped at her. “What?”
“When you thought something was wrong,” Benji said, coming towards me with a slightly mischievous look on her eyes, “I thought you could tell. But because I trust you,” she said slowly, the smile fading as she came close and wrapped her arms around me again, her eyes searching my whole face, “I couldn’t believe you’d be unhappy about that. I thought it must be because you figured out I wanted to cover your song.”
“I’m not upset about the song,” I told her. “I couldn’t tell what you were thinking… I think, maybe, I…”
“I’m being weird,” Benji said, and nodded as I did, communicating as much as I could with my face. “Well, we are getting married in a week, and that’s crazy—but in a good way,” she said carefully, and I bit my lip. “A very good way.” A flush rose in her cheeks as she watched, and then she started pushing me back towards the couch.
“Wha—”
“I’m still hungry,” she said softly, and as I thumped down on the cushions she crawled on top of me and ripped off her shirt. “But my appetite’s different, all of a sudden.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, then; suddenly I remembered, looking down at her smooth belly, that our baby was inside of her. That she and I were going to be parents. And I couldn’t do anything but smile and let another happy tear creep out of the corner of my eye as I slowly ran my fingers over her skin, wondering what we would name them, if they listened to our wedding song when we practiced, if they would be playful like their mother or disciplined like me.
I was going to be a father.
And a husband.
Joy rushed into my body, filling the space that my pain had just left behind. I felt it coming, completing me the same way Benji did.
“I love you,” she whispered again, and I pulled her close and kissed her deeply, speaking in the language I was most comfortable with as my body met hers, the way it always would.
The End
Kendall Duke’s Innocent Series
Follow the links and don’t forget to leave a review! I hope you enjoy reading these sweet little books as much as I enjoyed writing them. I’ve included an excerpt from The Virgin and the Hero at the end of this book—check it out and if you like it, follow the link to enjoy the rest of the book on Amazon’s Kindle Unlimited.
The Virgin and the Hero: A First Time Military Romance
From the Flames: A First Time Steamy Romance
The Rookie and the Virgin: A First Time Romance
Heartbeats: A First Time Military Romance
The Virgin and the Convict: An Alpha Bad Boy First Time Romance
Her First Ride: A First Time Cowboy Romance
The Surfer and the Virgin: An Alpha Bady Boy First Time Romance
The Kissing Game: A Rock Star First Time Romance
Other books by Kendall Duke:
The Bodyguard Anthology: An Erotic Russian Alpha Romance Books 1-4
From The Hero and the Virgin…
Jordan
I was starving.
Cold. Way past hungry. And headed for exhaustion.
Marcus at the diner remembered me from way back, and he always gave me an extra cup of coffee, even on days when I couldn’t afford more than my regular meal. The mill had me whipped but I was determined to get in some more over-time if it killed me; I was still $400 short of my brother’s hospital bill, and I’d be damned if one more shift was the difference between him getting the help he needed, and not. I could barely see but I pulled my pick-up into the diner’s parking lot and was grateful they stayed open twenty-four seven. I needed to eat something before I went home and fell into bed to work another 18 hour shift.
The diner opened years before I was born, but Marcus hadn’t bought it from the old owner until I was seventeen, right before I joined the Marines. I remembered when he was just a server himself, still learning how to work the register and terrified of the deep fryer. That was a long time ago now, it felt like, although it’d only been ten years. Ten very, very long years.
I parked the truck and made my way through the door, listening to the little bell ring over my head and scanning the room automatically. I couldn’t help it; the training never left you. There were three guys sitting at the big round table in the corner being louder than the hour necessitated, but they were young, probably around twenty, and obviously a little drunk. There was another old vet at the counter; we’d served in different wars, obviously, me being at least two decades younger, but we understood one another very well and nodded without speaking. Marcus was in the back; I could hear him rattling around the pots and pans. I sat down at the counter and waited.
And waited.
I am a patient man. I have a bad temper, yes, and I’m not known for saying much, particularly anything very clever, but the one virtue anyone would agree I’ve always had, even before the military, is patience. I’ve always been able to wait. And wait. And wait.
But I was fucking tired. And cold, and hungry. Very hungry.
Without speaking, I stood up and looked through the plate rack back to the kitchen. Sure enough, there was Marcus, but he looked a little frazzled, as if he’d bitten off a big bite of something that he couldn’t quite swallow. And while he was standing still, looking frazzled, someone else was rattling around in the kitchen making all that racket.
Great. A new server.
I sighed and sat back down. Marcus got new people to work the graveyard shift all the time, and they never failed to fail. It was a difficult shift that didn’t promise a lot of tips, just a lot of harassment from the riff-raff that came in drunk or were too taciturn to be polite, like the other vet at the counter and me. I didn’t know his name—didn’t even know his regiment—but we’d been sitting at this counter every once in a while after a late shift for at least a year, since I got back from my second tour. He gave me a knowing look and then returned to his coffee. There was a new twinkle in his eye, though, that gave me pause, and when I finally saw the kitchen door swing open I immediately understood why.
I didn’t believe in love at first sight—didn’t believe in anything, any more. But when I saw that girl for the first time I knew something was happening to me—love, a heart attack, or maybe God finally had pity on me for all the things that had gone wrong in my life and sent down an angel just to say hello, I don’t know. But something was happening, something bi
g.
She was only five feet tall, I was sure, and had freckles the color of cinnamon spread out across a dainty nose. Giant brown eyes and copper waves of hair, lips a shade of red I’d seen far too many times in my life but these… These were living, bright and bold. And her shape… She was wearing a uniform that clearly belonged to someone else, as it was a little too big and fell down around her shoulder, revealing a turquoise bra strap that sent my stomach down to my knees. She needed that bra, because her breasts were pushing at the sack of that uniform even though the rest of her was tiny, and her hips were so round I could see them swinging, shifting the whole thing left and right. I tried to stop staring, but I couldn’t. And when she walked right up to me, picked up her pen and looked me straight in the eye, it took almost all of my will to speak words like a normal human and not just sling her over my shoulder and walk out the door.
“Hi!” She had a voice with a laugh tucked inside of it, as if everything amused her. “What can I get you?”
I ripped my eyes away from her face and stared down at the menu for a long minute before I was able to answer her question. I thought she might leave, but she didn’t, and when I looked back up she was calmly waiting, that smile still dancing on her full lips. I felt the scrutiny of her eyes but tried to concentrate on my order. “Cup of coffee, black. Whatever soup’s on special. Two sides of bacon.”
“Okay,” she said, and walked back through the kitchen door, her hips doing a dance of their own across the floor.
The old vet next to me took a sip of his coffee and the silence between us filled with the unspoken conversation we didn’t need to have. That girl was like a slice of sunshine. A beautiful, sparkling note striking through the blackness.
But men like us lived in the dark.