“We slept together. Nothing will change that.”
“Why are you...?” She shoved hair back from her face. “Fine, I’ll sleep in my own room. Enjoy your cold bed,” she added, stalking from the kitchen.
One moment he told her in all but words that he wanted her, that he didn’t plan to let her forget that; in another, he pushed her away and reminded her the wedding was temporary. He didn’t make any more sense than he accused her of making. She understood him less than he did her.
Latching the door behind her, she dropped onto the bed and looked at her discarded phone. Without further thought, she started a multiple text between Ashlyn, Emme, Kate and herself. Mostly, they talked of her trip and benign things, until she mentioned her fight with Benton. They seemed sympathetic, agreeing that he said some harsh and unnecessary things. At once, she felt suffocated; between the marriage and her lack of freedom to live on her own, she thought she might drown.
When it turned past midnight, and she knew Benton went to bed without saying anything, she begged jet lag and changed, crawling beneath the comforter. Her bags sat in the corner, unpacked. Andrea found herself staring at them until her eyes blurred. Had she made a mistake? Would it have been so bad to let the county take her aunt’s house? Everything unraveled, leaving her wondering what changed?
What hadn’t?
Deacon’s marriage, Ashlyn’s kidnapping, Brad and now belonging to Benton in a way not easily taken back. Life careened out of control, and she didn’t know how to slam on the breaks.
Sleeping alone seemed strange. Not only for the sex, but also for the companionship. Santa saw fit to give her the only present she coveted for a year, and now she didn’t know what to do with it. Giving in wasn’t safe; it would be like rock climbing with no harness. One misplaced finger and she plummeted to the bottom without a net. Like most people, she didn’t actively seek pain. Something told her it was far too late.
* * * *
Benton awoke with a start, automatically reaching beneath his pillow for a weapon. As the sleep cleared from his head, he jerked on a pair of jeans and went to the door. He opened it a crack, cold metal barrel shoved in the space. In the light from the porch, the shape could be anyone.
“Benton, it’s me, Sam.”
Recognizing the voice from meeting last evening before bed, he opened the door and allowed the other man entrance. The gun didn’t leave his hand, but the other man accepted, bringing with him the swirl of wind and the threat of more snow. Bare hands in his pockets, the other man swung around and Benton saw the urgency in his face.
Shorter than Benton by a few inches, the fit red-head seemed intelligent and loyal enough, though quiet. Samuel Beckett talked less than the other men around him; almost distant, but he didn’t seem hesitant. Benton appreciated that. He didn’t want anyone watching out for his boss or Andrea that couldn’t hack it.
“Ryan called me. Andrea’s gone.”
Straight to the point. He liked that too. What he didn’t like, were the words. Without thinking, he found himself stalking down the hall and looking in her room. The bed remained empty, neatly made and showing no signs of use. Her bags from Hawaii were gone.
Sam stood behind him. Swinging around, he demanded. “Did Ryan say where?”
“He’s following her to the airport. She had help,” he added.
“Help?” If anything happened to her...
Brief amusement filtered through his expression. “Emme and Ashlyn.”
Rolling his eyes heavenward, Benton wondered, not for the first time, about women and sense. Andrea knew Brad stalked her. With his father in the picture, the situation only became more critical. He didn’t know what the two planned. He hadn’t the time to meet with Jack and demand to know yet.
Pulling a T-shirt over his head, he laced up his boots and grabbed a coat. His emotions volleyed between pissed that she was so pigheaded and worried that something would happen to her. Both he and Sam slipped into his jeep, tearing out of the driveway before it had time to warm up. The other man remained silent beside him, and he appreciated it.
“What the hell was she thinking?”
“I don’t presume to know.”
Benton snorted. “Shit, me either. How far of a head start did she get?”
“Enough. Deacon was the one that alerted him. He caught Ashlyn coming into the house fully dressed. She stalled for a bit, but...” Sam trailed off, shrugging.
“There’s only one reason she’d leave. She’s mad at me.”
“I don’t envy you there.”
“Life was a hell of a lot easier before marriage.”
Sam held onto the handle above the door when Benton tore around a corner. “That’s why I swear off it. Less stress that way.”
“Smart man,” Benton muttered, brain whirling. The only place he could think that Andrea would go, was home to her parents in Colorado; the only other place she felt safe.
Snow began to fall in slow, soft tufts. He imagined if it snowed here, Colorado would be a nightmare. If the weather was on his side, she wouldn’t get out of the airport. It was one of the few times he wished it would come down harder.
Sam’s phone rang. “Hello? Yeah, we’re on our way. Shit. Okay. I’ll tell Benton. Yeah. Bye.”
The muscles in his abdomen clenched. He didn’t need to hear it; she already boarded a plane.
“She’s on a plane.”
“Yeah.”
Slapping his palm against the wheel, he ran a red light. “Looks like I’m going to Colorado.”
* * * *
Settling into her seat, Andrea refused to glance out the window. People threaded through the aisles, placing carry-on luggage in the overhead cabinets and taking their own seats. Soft conversation floated around her, but she didn’t catch any of it. All she could think of, was leaving Benton behind and wonder if her parents would be upset with her. They didn’t know the entire story.
A stranger took the center seat, and she smiled vaguely at him. She wanted to sleep on the flight, but didn’t hold much hope of it. Part of her thought she should have woken Benton up, talked to him. But another part of her, the stronger voice, wanted to go home, to talk face to face with her mother and hope Grace had all the answers.
A part of her wondered if her actions were reckless, but the other part, the part that hurt and stung, wanted away from Benton. The man was like a drug to her. From the first moment she met him, Andrea felt drawn to him. Sometimes she didn’t know entirely what it was about him that caught her. But fighting it proved more difficult than she imagined.
The plane eventually filled and she followed the directions of the stewardess. So far, she thought the snow must not be too bad or they wouldn’t be preparing for take-off. She half expected Benton to board the plane at any moment and take her home. Funny, that she called it home now when it was Benton’s house to begin with. Still, she knew, with the help of her friends, she had a head start Benton wasn’t likely to catch up with until after the plane took to the air.
Mostly, she hoped Benton wouldn’t be upset with Ashlyn and Emme. The entire idea belonged to her. The only one that tried to talk her out of it was Kate. Practical, nurse Kate. It made her smile to think of her friend’s argument. Kate was probably right. She didn’t feel like being reasonable right now.
Nerves ate at her, until the plane took off. Small snow flurries streaked past, but never became more than a slow fall. She didn’t know what her parents would say when she arrived. She didn’t know how much to explain to them either. She also didn’t know how much time she had with them before Benton arrived.
From the airport, she would take a car to her parents. Driving in the snow didn’t faze her. She grew up learning how to drive in snow. Neither of them knew she was coming. She didn’t think calling them in the middle of the night was a good idea. Andrea was simply glad they had a quick flight. Otherwise, she would be in Benton’s jeep, driving back to Deacon’s.
At some point, she drifted. Before long, th
e stewardess asked them to buckle their seat belts, turn off their electronic devices and prepare for landing. Breathing a sigh of relief, she complied and waited to be able to exit the plane. The frigid air hit her immediately when she disembarked, and she inhaled it deeply, loving the sting in her lungs. This was home in a different way.
The walk to the baggage claim felt strange. She was so used to having someone with her anymore, that being alone had become a rarity. The airport wasn’t overly crowded, so renting a car proved easy. She had her choice, but only cared for something that could handle the snow. A small car with front wheel drive waited. Andrea piled her luggage in the back seat and climbed behind the wheel.
As she drove through the sparse Denver traffic, she found her mind drifting to the last few weeks. How quickly everything moved, scooping her up in a whirlwind and tossing her wherever she landed. She hadn’t really had time to think at all, much less be alone.
It didn’t take long to reach her parents. She sat in the car, gathering herself before braving the weather to grab her bags. As she crunched through the snow up the walk, she lifted her head and examined her childhood home. It was an older, two-story house, but well taken care of. It exemplified comfort and safety for her, with its pale-yellow exterior and white shutters.
Taking a deep breath, she exhaled, watching the puff of her air dissipate. She wanted to do the same right now.
Pulling the suitcase and extra bag of toiletries up the steps, she let her knuckles rest against the wood of the door for a moment. Finally knocking, she waited, hoping her dad was up early like usual. Her wish was answered a few minutes later. He opened the door, clad in pajama pants and a robe, cup of coffee in hand. He stared at her, obviously puzzled and fuzzy from sleep.
“Andy. What are you doing here?”
She offered a tremulous smile. “I’ll tell you all about it. Can I get in from the cold?”
“Yes, yes. Come in.”
He grabbed her suitcase with his free hand and she followed him through the threshold. The house smelled of coffee and her mother’s scented oils. It was warm and cozy and just as she remembered. Strange, how coming here lifted a weight immediately from her shoulders.
She only hoped she was welcome.
Chapter Thirty
Andrea joined her father at the table. He poured her a cup of coffee and she cupped it between her hands, absorbing the warmth. She liked her mother’s kitchen, with its buttery yellow cabinets and zigzag tiles. It remained a smaller room off the dining area. She remembered many school mornings at this table, her mom making her breakfast while she got in last minute studies. Her father would pass through to grab his lunch box, kissing them both before leaving.
Smiling into her mug, she raised her eyes to see her father sitting across from her. Though he hadn’t said a word, she knew he waited. Unlike her mother, her father would never push for answers. The man possessed more patience than anyone she knew. Sometimes, he only needed to give her a look. His expressions spoke volumes. She always knew when she disappointed or pleased him.
She took a sip, savoring the cream and sugar doctored liquid. “I only have a few hours.”
He only raised his eyebrows.
“Benton will be here after that.”
“Ah.” He drained the rest of his cup. “I suppose I better go get your mother.”
Without another word, he rose and left the kitchen, pace unhurried. She watched after him, stomach dipping. She knew her mother wouldn’t judge her unnecessarily, but she couldn’t help the nerves. Worse, she didn’t know how it would go when Benton got here. And she knew he would get here.
It was only a matter of time.
A short while later, Grace came into the kitchen wrapped in the soft, warm robe Andrea bought for her two Christmases ago. Her hair was tamed as it could be. As she immediately took a seat next to her daughter, she examined Andrea with a pinched expression.
“What’s wrong, Andy? Did you and Benton have a fight?”
Blowing out a breath, she shrugged. “You could say that.”
By the look on her mother’s face, that was hardly enough of an explanation. Andrea only wished she knew how much to reveal.
“He... Well...” She fiddled with the handle of her mug.
“Andrea, I’m going to share something with you my mother shared with me when I was newly married. Your father and I had a fight. Something silly, I can’t even remember now. She said, that I didn’t have to like him all of the time, but I loved him enough to give him the respect of talking to him before making any rash decisions.”
Andrea struggled against the shame. Her decision had been rash. But love? This marriage was nothing like the rock-solid foundation her parents built.
“This is different,” she said to her hands.
“How so?” Her mother covered her hand. “You can tell me, Andy. Or, you don’t have to. I just want to help.”
The entire few weeks burst forth in her and she felt her chest swelling with the pressure of their secret.
“We didn’t even marry for love! Benton, well he knew I wanted Aunt Marissa’s house and he had some stupid notion of keeping me safe... I mean, how does marrying me keep me safe?”
“Slow down, slow down.” Grace squeezed her hand. “What do you mean? Benton married you for a house?”
“Not exactly... He suggested it as the main reason, but he thinks marrying me and keeping me by his side at all times is protecting me.”
“Protecting you from what, dear?”
Biting her lip, Andrea sighed and explained the situation with Brad sparingly, not wanting to share any of the more intimate insults.
Her mother scooted closer, pulling her into a hug. “Oh, Andy. That’s terrible. When your father finds out...” Grace pulled back, shaking her head.
“Mom, don’t tell Dad! He’ll be so upset...”
“Of course I will. We don’t keep secrets from one another,” she added, expression knowing.
Andrea leaned back in the chair, sighing again. “Not like me and Benton...”
Grace patted her shoulder. “I’m sure Benton thought what he was doing was right. But he never should have married you without telling you.” Grace folded her arms. “Well, I was hoping you had found the man for you...”
Andrea laughed. “That’s just it, Mom. I think I have. But I don’t think he knows it, much less loves me.”
“Oh, really?”
She locked eyes with her mother. “What?”
Grace smiled. “I see how he looks at you. A man in love looks at a woman that way. He may not yet know it...”
Andrea looked at the ceiling. “I don’t know...”
Wisely, Grace changed the subject. “Now, what about this Brad? What’re they doing to catch him?”
“Well, I believe he was embezzling from Deacon’s company, so the FBI is involved now. I just hope they catch him soon. I’m a terrible judge of character, Mom. He seemed like a nice guy, if not boring...”
Grace rose, going for a cup of her own coffee. “Well, honey, it seems to me you might’ve misjudged Benton too. Did you think about that?”
“Well, I... I mean, I’m Deacon’s employee. He’s Deacon’s bodyguard. Of course he wants to keep me safe.”
“Mm hm. And, do you think if he didn’t care for you, he might send someone else to do the job?”
“I...” Awareness zinged through her, leaving her skin tingling in its wake. What if her mother was right? Had she really taken Benton’s feelings for granted this whole time, thinking he wanted nothing more than sex from her?
Cup in hand, Grace rejoined her at the table. “Food for thought, my dear.”
Dropping her head onto her arms, Andrea mumbled from beneath her curtain of hair. “I’m such a fool, Mom. It was right in front of me the whole time.”
“The most important question, is, do you love him too?”
Andrea raised her head. “I... Yes, of course. I think I always have. I just didn’t want to admit it.”
Smiling, Andrea sipped more coffee. “I’m so glad I came here. Though... Benton isn’t going to be happy when he gets here.”
“Just talk to him. Tell him how you feel.”
Doubt crept in. “What if... What if he doesn’t feel the same?”
“That, dear, is a risk you have to take.”
Sometimes, Andrea admitted she didn’t like her mother’s answers. The truth of it though, was Grace usually knew what she was talking about. Her mother carried a wisdom she had yet to gain. Now that she felt marginally better, she only hoped her father didn’t get too upset with Benton for marrying her to keep her safe. Though, with her father, it sometimes seemed hard to tell what he was thinking.
The Proposal Page 21