The Way We Fell

by Mj Fields

  I reach down and wet the washcloth. “Swimsuits in a hot tub, Kendall. Don’t overthink it.”

  She nods and grabs the only soap in the tub. “Sorry.”

  “Sweets.” I take the soap from her hand. “Don’t be sorry either.”

  She looks so fucking frustrated, sexy, but still …

  “Kendall—”

  “Just shush, okay? I’m working through this.”

  “Could you do it out loud so I can offer some insight?”

  “I’m not some naïve, little virgin. I know what is going on with me, with you, with us.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  Her eyebrows arch as she peers up at me through her lashes. “I made a promise to myself, and, for the love of God, please don’t say promises were made to be broken because—”

  “We keep promises; we break rules.”

  She splashes water at me and laughs in frustration. “See? I’m smart, Ben, and when I’m looking at you, kissing you, close to you—”

  “You want to break your rules.”

  She covers her face. “Yeah, I suppose I do.” She puts her hands back in the water. “But I won’t. And because I won’t …” She sighs exaggeratedly. “This is too much.”

  She starts to push herself up, and I manage to turn her back to me and pull her back against my chest … well, my dick gives her a nudge first … semantics.

  “Well, Kendall Ross, I’m gonna say last night’s dry humping shocked me. I mean, I wasn’t expecting that until the end of summer.”

  She shakes her head.

  “Dead serious. But absolutely ecstatic it happened. I thought maybe I’d be able to grab a boob before I left home, but—”

  “What?” She laughs.

  “From now until you go back to school, I had planned on my uncle coming every other week or so, possibly catch a few rain days so I could sneak over to Blue Valley and see you in between those two weeks. Anyway, I digress. Back to the point. I was hoping to grab a boob this trip. The next one, tweak a nipple, maybe even be able to suck one. Then—”

  “Okay, I really don’t need to hear your step-by-step plan.”

  “Fine, but I worked my way to a feast on Thanksgiving. You know—”

  She leans forward and dunks her head in the water. I can’t help laughing.

  I pull her back up then reach for the shampoo. Johnson and Johnson, of course.

  Sitting up, she’s not leaning against me anymore, which is cool because I now have a chance to wash her hair.

  “I can wash my hair.”

  “So can I, and I loved it when Mom used to wash my hair.” I massage the shampoo into her thick, wavy hair, and she leans her head back. “Feels good, right?”

  “Yeah,” she answers.

  “Aside from all the physical shit I had planned in my twisted mind, I also planned to win your heart. How am I doing so far?”

  “Good,” she sighs out as I continue to wash her hair.

  “I’m good with slow. I’m good with whatever, Kendall. And I’m good because it’s you.”

  “Then what happens when you go back to work?”

  “Not sure how long I’ll be here, all depends on how fast Dad heals. Definitely through the summer. But, like you, I’ll be home for the holidays, hunting season. I’ve already made plans for our first summer, but anything you want to do to change them is cool. You let me know when your winter and spring breaks are, and we’ll figure it out.”

  “Okay.” She nods.

  “Okay.” I smile as I dump the water over her head from the big cup we used with the boys.

  Once she’s rinsed, she tells me, “If I don’t use conditioner, my hair will be unmanageable.” She reaches forward to grab the conditioner, and I lean forward to kiss her back. She puts the conditioner in her hair, and I begin to draw on her back.

  Falling, falling, falling so fast, so hard.

  “Slow down so I can figure it out?” she asks.

  After I’ve done it a few more times, she begins rinsing her hair.

  I love the way the water cascades down her back, the way her hair looks curlier when it’s wet, and the smell of baby shampoo mixed with whatever conditioner she used is almost as calming as a post-orgasmic haze.

  Almost.

  “Okay, my turn,” she says.

  “I can’t believe you just streaked.” Kendall laughs as she holds the back door open for me as I bring my duffle inside from my truck.

  “I’m in a towel, little Ross; I wouldn’t consider that streaking.” I run up the steps and walk inside. “You put a shirt on.”

  “Yes, because I’m not an exhibitionist.”

  “Girl, I am wearing a damn towel.” I kiss her cheek then drop my bag on the bench in the back room. “This is me being modest.” I toss one of my T-shirts at her. “I want you in my pants, but I’ll settle for a shirt for now.”

  I step into a pair of basketball shorts then drop the towel as I watch her somehow manage to put my T-shirt on over the one that she’s wearing then pulls the one she was wearing off.

  “Damn girl, you’re magic.”

  “Years of changing on a bus does not make me a magician.”

  When she bends down and grabs something else out of my bag and steps in them, I laugh. “Christ, I thought I was gonna have to wait until at least Christmas to get you in my underwear.”

  “Pft,” she says as she walks away. “I’m not looking at a penis until I’m wearing a ring.”

  “Earrings count?” I ask, grabbing a little something out of my bag for her.

  “Fat chance.”

  “How about this?” I ask.

  She looks back and sees me holding a box in the palm of my hand and then …

  “Shit, shit, shit—”

  “You okay?” I hurry to where Kendall just walked directly into a wall and stubbed her toe, trying my hardest not to laugh.

  “Oh my God, I think it’s broken.” She hops around on one foot while holding her leg up with one hand under her knee and the other on the wall.

  I pick her up, no longer wanting to laugh when she’s in pain.

  She sighs. “I can walk.”

  “You can hop. Walking isn’t what you were doing.” I set the box in her hand. “Hope this makes you forget the pain for a minute.”

  She hesitates for a couple of seconds as I walk us into the kitchen and put her on the counter. I lift her foot up and kiss the top of it, avoiding putting pressure on her toes.

  “Let me get you some ice while you open the box.”

  “I think it’s a little much—”

  “You don’t even know what it is until you open it.”

  I watch her open it and smile.

  “I was right; it is too much.” She snaps the box closed and holds it out to me.

  I take it, open it back up, pull it out, take her hand, and look at her. “It’s a—”

  “Oh, I know what it is.” She bites her lower lip to stop the smile.

  “Friendship, love, and loyalty.” I slide it on her finger, upside down. “Now, how about that ice?”

  “Nah,” she says, now smiling at the ring. “I think it’ll be just fine.”

  I pop a quick kiss to her nose while her head is down. She’s still smiling at the ring.

  When she looks up, I see so many emotions, raw, real, unguarded emotions. “I love it.” Then she hugs me.

  Fuck if I don’t love her hugs as much as her lips.

  “Hey.” I step back and turn. “Climb on my back.”

  “I stubbed my toe, Ben; didn’t break my leg.”

  “Get on.”

  With Kendall on my back koala-style, I make my way over to the piano in the corner and squat down. “Have a seat.”

  19

  The Search Is Over

  Kendall

  Ben sits next to me on the bench, takes a deep breath, and then starts to play the piano. I didn’t even know he knew how to play. I mean, a guitar gives off a sexy, bad boy rocker, smoky air, shots of Jack Dani
els feel. The piano, however, paints quite a different picture.

  I suppose, in some way, Billy Joel is a sexy pianist. I mean, he’s no Ben Sawyer, but Christie Brinkley seemed to think he was a little something-something, and she’s a supermodel. Billy Joel has a single malt scotch on the rocks kind of sex appeal and …

  When Ben begins to sing, I haven’t a clue what I was thinking. All I know is my heart is again melting.

  Don’t cry, don’t cry. Do! Not! Cry!

  “Now the miles stretch out behind me, loves that I have lost. Broken hearts lie victims of the game. Then good luck, it finally struck like lightning from the blue. Every highway leading me back to you.”

  Oh God, I think as I press my forehead against his shoulder as he continues to play and sing … to me!

  It’s Ben, I tell myself, trying to calm the inner rock-loving fan girl inside me. It does absolutely nothing, not one thing, except make me melt even more.

  He stops playing and turns to me, still singing, “Now I look into your eyes. I can see forever.” He nods to me and cups his ear, coaxing me to sing or say the next part, and I do. How could I not?

  “The search is over.”

  He places his lips against mine and whispers, “You were with me all the while.”

  This … This is so much better than the random shuffle.

  Lying in bed, dressed in Ben’s clothes with his arms wrapped around me, I think about how everything went today and how much I would rather be right here than traveling all over the world.

  Ben presses a kiss to the back of my head and whispers, “You asleep?”

  “Yes.”

  He chuckles softly. “Then why are you talking?”

  “Maybe I talk in my sleep.”

  “Then I’ll use it to my advantage.”

  I smile but don’t reply.

  “I’ve dated a lot, been in a couple relationships with girls that I thought, this could work, life would be good. But with you, I know I will do anything to make it work, because I’m lying here, in a bed that’s not my own, feeling at home.”

  I grab his wrists and pull his arms tighter around my body.

  “I know we both have goals and dreams, Kendall, but damn if I wouldn’t throw mine out so I could feel like this every damn night.”

  With the moonlight shining through the window, I roll over and look at him. “Which is my biggest fear.”

  He gives me a look of concern then frustration.

  “I never want a man who I let myself fall in love with regret not chasing his dreams, because someday, I will be the reason he didn’t.”

  “Kendall—”

  I put my hand over his mouth. “And I never want to look at a man and feel like he held me back either. And right now, I feel the same way, like I could lie like this forever, but I won’t do that to me, and I certainly won’t do that to you. And Ben, I will never want to be the girl who decides to go back on my promise to myself, a girl who hops the proverbial plane to San Francisco—”

  He pulls my hand away and says, “Now you’re the one who needs to get over Lucas.”

  “I know you’re not Lucas, Ben, but part of me is just like Tessa. Failure is not an option. When I fall in love, there will be one in my lifetime. I don’t want to fight with everything I have and end up losing something that was never mine.” I feel overly emotional and raw after confessing what I just did.

  He pushes my hair away from my face. “And when I tell you for the first time that I love you, I want to make sure you know that this, too, is my first time actually knowing what the fuck it truly means. And Kendall Ross, I will mean it forever.”

  I can’t even begin to describe the level of gooey I feel inside. I feel like Augustus Gloop, who fell into the river of chocolate—warmth and sweetness overload.

  Tears prick my eyes as I smile and whisper the truth, “I know.”

  He laughs softly. “Don’t break my heart.”

  I take his hand and boldly put it over my own heart which, as we all know, is one’s breast, and ask, “Do you feel that?”

  “Fuck yes, I do,” he says, nostrils flaring slightly and eyes darting between mine.

  Aware I’m being a bit of a tease but also trying to prove a point and be brave, I tell him, “It’s saying, I’m falling way too fast, maybe a little bit recklessly, and asking that you please, please cherish it.”

  “Heard it all, agree to every bit of it, but you are such a fucking tease, little Ross.”

  I smile and turn, placing my back to his chest as a silent chuckle vibrates against it. “Not teasing, Ben Sawyer. Just letting you know I’m on board for all you have planned out in that crazy, sexy head of yours.”

  “Well, I hope you don’t mind that my crazy, sexy dick is going to be poking you in the ass, and that’s all your fault.”

  He wraps his arm around me again and, feeling a bit … wild, I pull his hand up and place it on my breast. “Sleep well, Ben.”

  He whispers, “I’m gonna squeeze it.”

  “Whatever gets you back on track, bud.” I laugh to myself until he squeezes gently. I don’t just feel it there, but everywhere. “Ben?”

  “They’re perfect. So fucking perfect.”

  I push into his touch, and he pulls his hand away.

  A deep chuckle rumbles against my back. “If I’m going to have blue balls for the next two years of my life, then you’re gonna have the female equivalent, sweets.”

  And just like that, whatever remaining fear I had about keeping a promise to myself and to God, because of secondhand heartbreak and because of the misunderstanding of others, is gone.

  I wake up before him and slide out of bed, grabbing the handheld monitor so I can get the coffee started and breakfast made for the boys before any of them wake up.

  After using the bathroom and peeking in on Matty and CJ, I walk down the stairs and jump when I see my parents sitting at the kitchen island.

  “Morning, Kendall.” Dad stands and walks over to me. “Interesting attire you’re wearing.”

  I glance down and see Ben’s T-shirt. I cringe when I see the other half of my … interesting attire.

  “I didn’t bring clothes, and Ben—”

  “So, you slept with Ben again last night?” Dad asks before taking a sip of his coffee.

  Mom tsks and tells him, “John, leave her be and don’t ask questions you don’t want to hear the answers to.”

  “Mags, I’m not the one holding out hopes for one of our girls becoming a nun, knowing that, for many reasons, one being we aren’t catholic, that it will never happen.”

  “Molly saved herself for marriage, so did Alex.”

  “Mags, you do realize there is no gold crown in Heaven for parents who raised virgin brides, and if there is, Tessa and Jake already have you disqualified for that title—whatever the hell it would be.”

  Mom walks over and hugs me. “I love you.” She steps back and looks me up and down. I wish I could disappear. “Being a virgin when you get married bonds a couple on a deeper level than I can explain. I just want you to have whatever upper hand you can when you weather tomorrow’s storms.”

  I know that she believes this. Heck, I obviously believe it, too.

  “Actually”—Ben’s voice makes both Mom and me jump—“studies show that women who have had one sexual partner have happier marriages. The lowest odds of a happy marriage are women who have had six to ten, Maggie, so it’s safe to say your kids are going to be happy.”

  He walks over and kisses my blazing red cheek. “Good morning, Kendall. You look beautiful.”

  Yep, I wanna die.

  Then he hugs and kisses my mom’s cheek. “Good morning, Maggie. You look amazing as always. And for the record, Kendall is a perfect angel, with her morals and virtue still intact.”

  Dead. Please let me be dead.

  In his most fatherly tone, Dad says, “Guess you’ll live another day.”

  “Morning, John.” Ben smiles.

  Dad’s clearly trying
to stay in Mom’s good graces when he asks, “So, you’ve given us some facts about women, but how do men fair in this study you’ve conducted?”

  “Still a dip in marital satisfaction, but never as low as it gets for women.”

  “So I see.”

  “See but don’t fear. I can promise you and Maggie—”

  Oh God, don’t promise. Do NOT promise—

  “—that I’m a much more serious man now and have decided to match Kendall’s standards, so I, myself, will not be having sex until I’m married.”

  “So, are you telling me you plan to marry my daughter?”

  “No, he’s—”

  Dad interrupts me, “Because you’re telling me—”

  “When Kendall and I decide that’s where we’re heading, I would most certainly ask for her hand before asking—”

  “Good morning, Ross’s.” Lucas walks into the kitchen, interrupting, and I am so glad he did. He looks Ben up and down. “Benji.”

  Okay, maybe not.

  He walks past Dad with a crockpot and sets in on the counter. “Ashley asked me to bring this over.”

  Mom hugs him. “Thanks.”

  “I told her that cooking for the Ross family was a bad idea, but she decided she needed to and told me a gift certificate wasn’t an option.” He kisses the top of her head then steps back.

  Mom smiles. “She’s nesting, Lucas.”

  Dad clasps his shoulder. “You ready to be a dad?”

  “Well, I have a fifty-fifty chance of nailing it, thanks to you.” Lucas smiles at my dad.

  “You’ll be great.” Dad nods.

  “I’m going to have to agree with you,” Lucas concurs.

  I look up at Ben, who has his arm wrapped around my shoulders, and smile. He rolls his eyes.

  “She’s going to have one hell of a time being on bed rest,” Dad says as Mom and I make French toast for the boys.

  “I’m sure Collin will see to it that she doesn’t overdo it,” I say from over my shoulder to Dad. “And I’m home, so I’ll help, too.”

  “And there’s Joan.” Mom gives a tight smile as she flips the toast.

  I nudge her, and she shakes her head.