Like Lovers Do

by Tracey Livesay

  He laughed. Now that was the Nic he knew and lo—

  “Do you still want to do this?” he asked, not allowing that thought to fully form. “I wouldn’t be upset if you changed your mind. You could stay at a B and B in town and fly back tomorrow.”

  “I’ll be fine. You’re willing to talk to your parents for me. Helping you send the message to your ex is the least I can do.”

  “If you’re sure?”

  She nodded, then winced. “I am.”

  “Okay. Then let’s go over this one last time.”

  Nic sighed and rolled her eyes. “Good god, man! I’ve gone over lifesaving surgeries less often!”

  “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right.”

  The words echoed back to him in the confined space of the car. They were the words of a teenager or the protagonist in some romantic comedy. What was he doing?

  He straightened and faced front, bracing his hands against the steering wheel. “This is ridiculous. I’m a grown man. Why am I resorting to these games?”

  Nic reached out and brushed his shoulder. “Because you love your friends and you have the right to enjoy time with them without being distracted by an ex who’s set her sights on you.”

  Well, when she put it like that, the sitcom caper seemed reasonable. Responsible, even.

  Her touch seared through his shirt, his skin to his very bones.

  “Your hands, lips, tongue, dick. Doesn’t matter. I need at least one of them on me, stat.”

  The words were branded on his brain. When he closed his eyes, they were scripted in the fiery red of the darkness. All he could think about was putting each of those items on her breasts and so much more. His palms ached to squeeze the pert mounds. His lips yearned to roam over the smooth skin, following their natural curves, paths, and valleys. His tongue throbbed to lick her nipples until they stood at attention.

  And his dick?

  His dick wanted to learn all the textures every other part did. It wanted to feel the smooth tight channel between her cleavage. Know the feeling of sliding in and out, over and over, as a prelude to the place it really wanted to go . . .

  Dammit! Now he was as hard as a rock and if Nic happened to look down, his cargo shorts wouldn’t hide it. She’d certainly see it. And just because he couldn’t keep a lid on his fucked-up lust didn’t mean he wanted to ruin their friendship over it.

  “Alright then, let’s get moving,” he said, tossing the words over his shoulder as he exited the car and went around to the trunk of the rental luxury sedan.

  Nic took her time getting out, but when she did, she stared in wide-eyed amazement at the house before them. “I’ve never seen a house like this in person. It’s incredible.”

  Ben glanced at the rambling eleven-thousand-square-foot shingled mansion with its classic New England coastal architecture. Against the bright, partly cloudy sky, the picture presented an elegant refinement he’d probably taken for granted since their families had been summering up here together for years.

  “It belongs to Palmer’s family. His parents aren’t here. They’re spending the summer in Italy and France.”

  “As one does,” she murmured, grabbing the handle of her suitcase.

  Watching Nic roll her bag toward the white double doors beneath the columned portico, Ben marveled at the notion of his two worlds colliding. Their relationship had been cultivated in a bubble. The two of them together in Baltimore, away from everyone else in their lives, their connection had strengthened and thrived. Though he counted her as one of his best friends, this was a part of his life she didn’t know. A huge part. And he was consumed with the sudden desire to rectify that deficiency.

  “Wait. Come with me.”

  He took her hand and led her to the back of the house, past five Adirondack chairs grouped to take advantage of the breathtaking vista.

  The property was situated high on a hill with over 180 degrees of unobstructed water views of the bay, the harbor, and the Atlantic Ocean beyond. Over two acres had been landscaped with several groves of trees and bushes. He guided her over to a relaxing spot where a hammock had been anchored and a fire pit had been positioned in front of several tree stumps.

  “Um, it’s a nice view but I think I could’ve waited to see it later.”

  “I know. But we went from the boat to the car. I thought you’d like a second to breathe in some fresh air.”

  She settled on one of the stumps and for a few minutes they sat in silence, enjoying the slight cool breeze as it blew in off the water.

  “Feeling better?”

  “I am. Thanks.”

  He nodded then looked around, instinctively smiling as memories unpacked themselves from his subconscious and spread out before him.

  “What brought on that smile?” Nic asked.

  “I had some good times here.”

  “Really?”

  He laughed. “Yeah. The summer after we graduated from high school, we had a party here while Palmer’s parents were still in New York. We’d only invited a few people, but it’s a small island. Word got out and this place was packed. We turned this area into a VIP section. Ran some rope between these trees and invited all the pretty girls to party with us.”

  “Slick. I never imagined you as a player.”

  “I did okay.”

  “Huh. I thought I knew you pretty well. And I guess I do. About your life now, in Baltimore. But you have an entire history of experiences that I know nothing about,” she said, echoing his thoughts from earlier.

  He braced a hand against one of the trees and pointed to a large twisted oak fifty yards away. “You see that tree right there?”

  She nodded.

  “When I was fourteen, Davis bet Palmer and me to see who could climb the highest.”

  They’d stolen a six pack of beer and come out here to goof off and throw a football around.

  “Are you crazy? That tree is huge. You could’ve broken your neck!”

  He warmed at her concern. “I didn’t do it. I thought it was stupid. But Davis convinced Palmer. And Palmer did it—he beat him! But when he got up there, he froze. Couldn’t come back down.”

  Palmer had been terrified while Davis had been at the bottom laughing hysterically. Davis’s sarcastic bent turned full-blown asshole when he drank too much. Ben had pulled off his shoes and chucked one at Davis, hitting him in the eye.

  “I scaled the tree on the other side of Palmer and helped him down.”

  Nic stared at him, one hand covering her mouth. “Were you okay?”

  “I would’ve been.” But Davis had thrown his shoe back up at him, startling him. “I fell. Broke my arm.”

  The three of them had been a sight: him cradling his broken arm, Davis with a black eye; and Palmer, shaking, white as a sheet.

  She gasped. “Your parents must’ve been so worried.”

  He’d thought they might be. Hoped . . .

  “More like annoyed that I’d interrupted their dinner with some Van Mont Industries’ executives.”

  She stood and walked over to him. “Which arm?”

  Ben held out his left one and showed her the scar.

  “I’d always wondered about that,” she murmured.

  Her brow furrowed and she pursed her lips while studying the old injury, stroking her fingers back and forth along the thin, slightly puckered pinkish line. He swallowed back the moisture that flooded his mouth and watched her, noting their similar skin tones, though hers had a depth and creaminess to it that his lacked.

  She asked him several brisk questions and he answered them as best as he could, considering it was almost twenty years ago.

  She clucked her tongue in sympathy. “Sounds like a partial non-displaced fracture.”

  Though the skin around his scar had been sensitive for a while after his injury, it’d been years since he’d felt that phantom pain. So what could he blame for the tingly sensation he was now experiencing?

  His heart pounded in his chest and
he allowed his gaze to skim up her body, to the small gold studs in her earlobes and a few stray tendrils that had escaped the bun on the top of her hair. She was so petite and angular, she looked brittle, like she could break with a brisk wind. In the early days of their acquaintance, he’d mistakenly assumed she was fragile. It hadn’t taken him long to learn how strong she really was. How her small stature belied the force of her personality.

  The pulse at the base of her neck throbbed, like she was panicked or . . .

  His gaze flew to her face to find a becoming flush dotting her cheekbones. Her tongue darted out and the action drew his attention to her full, luscious lips.

  “It’ll feel so good. God, my skin is tingling & I’m so wet.”

  What if he said, “Fuck it”? Just picked her up, wrapped those slim, strong thighs around his waist, and devoured that mouth?

  “Hey!”

  Shocked, like he’d been abruptly yanked from a deep dream, he looked toward the intruding sound and found Davis running across the lawn toward them.

  Ben exhaled and shifted away, rubbing a hand down his face and attempting to shake the cobwebs of desire that still clouded his brain. Sliding a quick look at Nic, he watched her blow out a long breath and smooth loose hair up into her bun.

  Davis lumbered to a stop and strolled the remaining distance between them. “I saw a car out front. I thought it might be you.”

  They slapped hands before hugging. “We just got here and I wanted to show Nic this spot.”

  “Ahhh, the scene of the infamous tree-climbing bet.” Davis shoved his hands in the pockets of his navy crew-line shorts.

  “And the parties with our VIP section.”

  “Oh God, I forgot about that. One of your best ideas ever, Benji.”

  “You left that part out, Benji,” Nic said.

  He hated that fucking nickname. Hated it even more hearing it come from her mouth.

  “Oh yeah. He was key to that plan working,” Davis said. “None of the girls really trusted me and they thought Palmer was a nerd. But Benji here, with those eyes and that face? The girls totally trusted him. Wouldn’t you?”

  Nic turned the full force of her green gaze on him and his chest tightened.

  “I would,” she said quietly.

  “Palmer’s younger brother was always begging to let him hang with us, so we put him in charge of manning the section.” Davis laughed. “He was very diligent in his duties.”

  That was true. A Manhattan bouncer couldn’t have done a better job.

  “Y’know, Palmer never claimed his prize from the bet,” Davis said. “Which was great, because my father would’ve shit a brick if I’d given him my Xbox.”

  Nic frowned. “Couldn’t you have bought another one?”

  Davis wrinkled his nose in horror. “No. It officially went on the market several months later. I got one early because my father provided some of the seed capital for Microsoft.”

  “My bad,” she said, rolling her eyes, and Ben could only imagine the inner monologue she was having.

  “We’ll forgive you this one time.” Davis held out his hand. “Good to see you again.”

  She shook it. “You, too. Thanks for letting me crash the party.”

  “No problem. It’s for a good cause.”

  Nic glanced between the both of them. “Is she really that bad?”

  “Yes!” Davis said, nodding, his eyes comically wide.

  “Damn! What does that say about your taste in women, Van Mont?” Nic teased and bumped him with her hip.

  “Not much, apparently.” He sighed and squinted his eyes upward. “Tinsley isn’t bad. She’s just the only child of well-meaning but indulgent parents.”

  “Which means,” Davis interrupted, “she’s always gotten everything she’s wanted, whether she deserved it or not.”

  Nic slid a glance in Ben’s direction but lowered her lashes before he could read more. “And now she wants you.”

  “It’ll pass,” he said, with the utmost confidence. “Until then, I don’t want it to ruin our time with Palmer and Bronwen before they leave.”

  “It won’t. Don’t worry. I’ll do my part. We won’t leave any doubt that you’ve moved on,” Nic said.

  “You know how much I appreciate this.”

  “I do.”

  Their gazes met and held and he could feel it, the connection they’d always had that somehow had changed in the past week. He knew she’d noticed it, too, but like him, she seemed hesitant, unsure of whether they should acknowledge it.

  Davis cleared his throat. “Palmer and Bronwen are in the master suite on the main floor. You guys can take the one on the second floor. I took the suite above the garage. As far away from the drama queen as possible.”

  “Your snide comments aren’t helpful, man. I may not like the situation, but we don’t have to be dicks about it.”

  “And that’s our Benji, always being nice,” Davis said with a wry tilt to his lips.

  Because Ben knew that “nice” was not the first word that came to mind when referring to Davis.

  “That’s one of the things I like about him,” Nic said. She stared at Davis. “There’s enough cynical assholes in the world.”

  Davis’s smile turned genuine. “It’s going to be an interesting week. Come on, let’s go get you guys settled. Before I saw you had arrived, Palmer texted me they were fifteen minutes out.”

  They headed back across the lawn, grabbed their bags, and went inside the house. Ben could see Nic taking in their surroundings: the grand sweeping split staircase, the architectural focus of the main floor’s open plan, the bright kitchen with its white cabinets and butcher block countertops, the four striped upholstered armchairs encircling a wide round table, and the comfy couches situated in front of the large stone fireplace.

  Other than the three of them, however, the great room was empty.

  “Where’s Sabine?” he asked.

  “Her flight doesn’t get in until tomorrow morning.”

  “I’d heard something about flying in as an option,” Nic said, narrowing her eyes at Ben. “A little too late for it to be useful, but it’s still good to have that confirmed.”

  Crap. She was probably still feeling off from the seasickness and the Dramamine.

  “I’m going to take Nic to the room so she can lie down for a bit. I’ll be back.”

  Davis opened the refrigerator. “Cool.”

  Ben grabbed both of their bags. “C’mon.”

  “I’m not an invalid. I can carry my own bag,” she said, hurrying over to take one from him.

  “Watch out for the corner of that area rug—”

  The warning came too late as Nic’s toe caught on the raised fabric and she stumbled. She probably would’ve been able to save herself, except she tripped over the bag and would’ve fallen hard on the wooden floor if he hadn’t dropped what he’d been carrying and grabbed her.

  She clutched his arms and stared up at him, her pupils dilated, her lips slightly parted in surprise. In that moment he wanted to kiss her so badly, he actually shook from the effort of refraining. Her chest rose and fell, matching his own rhythm. He took a shaky, steadying breath and righted them both, though he didn’t step away from her and she didn’t move out of his embrace. They stood there, his arms around her waist, her hands gripping his biceps.

  “Thank you,” she said. “I guess I must still be off-balanced.”

  “No problem.”

  The corner of her mouth tilted upward. “You can let go of me now.”

  “You can move away from me now.”

  Neither withdrew.

  One of the glass-paned double doors banged open and, simultaneously, they turned their heads toward the commotion.

  “Who are you and why are you hugging my fiancé?” Tinsley asked, a scowl marring her patrician features, her furious gaze focused on Nic.

  Shit.

  Chapter Ten

  Fiancé?

  Though Nic knew she hadn’t been doi
ng anything wrong, she instinctively shifted away from Ben. He’d said they’d dated. He’d said nothing about them being engaged!

  Not that it would’ve made a difference. She would’ve offered to help him either way. After all, this was payback for possibly saving her fellowship. But the idea that Ben, her . . . friend, had felt enough for this woman that he’d asked her to be his wife? That they might be married if she hadn’t called it off? A prickle of unease quivered in her belly.

  Tinsley stood framed in the door, the sunlight glinting off her flaxen tresses.

  Flaxen tresses . . .

  Okay, that was a tad dramatic, but Nic hadn’t been too far off the mark when she’d imagined the other woman. Tall, thin, and beautiful, wearing white denim capris, a navy-and-white top, and matching wedges, she oozed class and wealth.

  Suddenly, Nic was fourteen again, standing outside of the sorority where her mother worked, staring at the pretty girls with their long straight hair, designer labels, and expensive jewelry. She almost gave in to the urge to smooth her hands down her bright yellow boatneck top and khaki shorts.

  Don’t you dare!

  Ben pressed his lips together and reached for Nic, slinging an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. “I’m not your fiancé, Tinns. Not anymore.”

  His words—not to mention the heat from his body—were what she needed to get her head back in the game.

  This isn’t personal, Nic. You’re here to show Ben’s ex that he’s moved on. Now do your job.

  Summoning a bright smile, Nic slid her arm around Ben’s waist. “Well thank God for that, or this would’ve been an extremely awkward situation.”

  Davis laughed, as did the couple who stood behind Tinsley, though they glanced at each other with wide eyes.

  Tinsley turned her head slightly, as if suddenly aware she had an audience.

  “I was joking, darling, of course,” she said, the corners of her mouth tilting upward.

  Ha! Nic didn’t believe her for one second. She’d witnessed the shock and rage on Tinsley’s face. The other woman had meant every word she’d uttered in her posh, used-to-being-obeyed voice.