by Salsbury, JB
She nods, that thick mane of curls sticking to her tear-streaked cheeks. “Okay. But I h-hate pepperoni.”
Her dad kisses her forehead. “Dislike. You don’t hate anything, baby.”
“I do,” I say. Ben stares at me in question. “Women feel deeper than men. It’s not our fault. Sometimes dislike isn’t a strong enough word.” I stand and snag Elliot’s hand. “Isn’t that right, midget?”
“Yes.” She pouts. “I can’t help it.”
He still looks a little homicidal, but he grins. “How quickly I forget. Forgive me.”
God, he looks so fucking good. A little broken with barely concealed rage and a heart of pure love for the little girl at my side.
“You’re forgiven,” I say.
He and I hold eye contact for way too long, and I finally throw my body in the opposite direction of his to break the spell. He clears his throat, then I hear the front door open and close. He’s calling Colette and taking the conversation outside to protect his daughter.
I was wrong.
Ben Langley isn’t just a good man.
He’s a great man.
Chapter Six
Ben
Colette’s not answering her damn phone.
Probably for the best, because the things I have to say to her right now might not be wise or pastor-like, but what the ever loving hell was she thinking leaving my six-year-old daughter alone? I try not to imagine all the millions of things that could’ve gone wrong, but it’s impossible.
I dial her phone again, breathing deeply and trying to get my emotions under control in case she does answer. Voicemail again. Fine. Her car is still in the driveway and she’ll need to come back for it eventually. When she does, I’ll be here waiting for her.
I pace the front porch with my phone fisted in one hand while I grip my hair with the other. The front door slowly opens and Ashleigh slips out to join me.
“No luck?”
“She won’t answer her fucking phone,” I say softly so Elliot won’t hear.
Ashleigh props a hip on the banister, her light eyes following me as I continue to pace. “Yeah, I figured, since I didn’t hear you losing your shit out here, that you couldn’t get a hold of her.”
“What the hell was she thinking leaving Elliot alone? All so she could go make out with some guy?”
“Girls get dumb around certain males.”
My gaze snaps to hers. “That’s not an acceptable excuse. Elliot could’ve gotten hurt!”
“But she didn’t.”
“The house could’ve burned down, or what if there was a tornado?”
Her eyes narrow. “In Arizona?”
“Who knows. A million different things could’ve gone wrong. She could’ve died!”
Ashleigh frowns, but not like she’s sad. More like she’s figured out a math problem she’s been working on for weeks and the answer isn’t what she thought.
I feel deflated. Worked over. My heart is racing, and I have a loose grip on my anger. My control is fragile, and that’s a horrible place for a person like me to be. My life only works because of my fine-tuned control.
“I can’t lose her.” And that’s what it comes down to. I lost Maggie, and Elliot is all I have left. I drop into the crappy folding chair on the porch, the rusty joints protesting with my weight.
Ashleigh squats in front of me and places a hand on my knee. “You won’t. You’re a great dad and she’s a smart kid.”
Is she aware her thumb is rubbing circles against my pants? Can she see me staring at her pale hand as it moves and twitches when she talks?
“She was put in a bad situation tonight, but she did the right thing and called you.” She squeezes my thigh, and the sensation shoots up and between my legs. “She’s safe. Everything’s okay.” She dips her head to get my eyes.
My skin feels hot and too tight, my lips are parted to accommodate my breath. A rolling need surges and ebbs behind my ribs.
“Okay?” she asks, a little crooked smile on her lips.
I’m flooded with adrenaline. My mind longs to escape the worry of the million things that could’ve gone wrong with Elliot tonight, so I allow myself to imagine what Ashleigh’s smile would feel like against my skin. What that hand on my knee would feel like braced against my bare chest while her long legs are wrapped around my hips. I allow myself to imagine things a man in my position has no business wanting.
No, Ashleigh. Everything is not okay. “Yeah.”
Her smile widens, and I wonder what it tastes like. Would her tongue be soft and sweet, or would there be a vicious bite in her kiss as I tasted my own blood? My dick kicks behind my zipper. What the hell am I doing?
I lean forward to brace my elbows on my knees, forcing her to remove her hand, and I cup my skull, willing myself to chill out and come back. What was that? Here I am worried sick about Elliot and now I’m on my porch with a boner? For a woman who isn’t my wife? Oh God, I feel sick.
“Oh, pizza’s here,” Ashleigh says. “That was fast.”
I peer up at the car parked in front of my house and scowl when I see Colette fold out of the passenger side. I shoot to my feet and dart to the steps only to feel the firm press of Ashleigh in front of me, holding me back.
“Easy, Ben,” she whispers, and it’s enough to calm my rage a little so I can think clearly.
Elliot’s nanny’s eyes are on my car as she walks through the yard toward us.
“You must be Colette,” Ashleigh says.
The girl’s head whips around, and she freezes. Her face is etched in fear, having just been caught. “You said you weren’t going to be home until eight.”
“So you did get my message.”
She turns toward her boyfriend’s car as if she’s thinking about making a run for it, but he peels out and leaves her to fight her own damn battle. She drops her head and mumbles a couple curse words before looking back at me. “Yeah, I was only gone for, like, five minutes. I had to run out to get tampons.”
I’m about to launch into the girl when Ashleigh’s laughter snags my attention. She’s planted in front of me, her right shoulder at my chest so I can’t see her face clearly.
“Using female problems on a dude because you know he won’t ask questions. Classic.”
Colette glares at Ashleigh. “You want me to show you my bloody tampon to prove it?”
“Yeah, I do.” Ashleigh takes a step forward, but I don’t know what she’s capable of, so I grip her elbow and mumble her name. She stops and even backs up two steps so that her back is pressed firmly to my chest. I don’t know if it’s a mistake or if she did it on purpose, but it works as we anchor each other.
“Go home, Colette,” I say as calmly as I can. Nothing good can come of me speaking to her tonight when I’m still angry and confused about Ashleigh’s effect on me.
“Yeah, and you’re fired,” Ashleigh says.
I look at her shiny blond hair, shocked at how involved she’s choosing to be. Elliott has never had a protector outside of me and maybe Bethany. It’s nice to see how much Ashleigh cares.
“You can’t fire me. I don’t even know you,” Colette says.
“You’re fired,” I repeat. “And I will not give you a recommendation, so don’t ask.”
“She won’t need one,” Ashleigh says without looking at me, her gaze fixed on the teenager. “She’ll end up pregnant in the next few months by that asshole, who’ll take off with his tail between his legs at the first sign she’s in trouble. Don’t expect that guy to stick around when all that ‘I swear I’ll pull out’ bullshit doesn’t exactly pan out. That two-pump chump is around for the easy lay, don’t mistake that. Do yourself a favor and go back to school. Take a vow of celibacy until you find a guy who looks at you like you hold his entire world in your hand and he’s terrified you’ll crush him. Until then? Stop handing out pussy to anyone who acts even the slightest bit interested.”
“You’re insane!” Colette says while stomping to her car.
“Time will tel
l. If you’re not pregnant in six months, then I’ll eat my own shoe.”
“Fuck you!”
Ashleigh chuckles. We watch in silence as Colette pulls away.
“I don’t know, I kind of like that girl,” Ashleigh says. “She’s got charisma.”
It isn’t until I laugh that I realize I have my hand wrapped around Ashleigh’s delicate upper arm, and her back is still firmly pressed to my front. What am I doing? I release my hold, and she moves to turn around. In the process, her ass brushes against my fly and she sucks in an audible breath. I step back and my face flames over what she just came into contact with. I’m not tenting my pants or anything super obvious, but having her close, watching her stick up for my daughter, feeling the warmth of her skin in my palm, my dick is swollen and definitely noticeable.
She stills, her spine stiff.
My face is so hot I can barely stand it, and I’m grateful for the burned-out porch light so she can’t see how red I am. “Ash, I’m…” Sorry? Humiliated? Turned on and insanely confused?
When she finally looks at me, her eyes aren’t shining with nervousness or embarrassment as I expected. She’s smiling as if I’ve given her a compliment.
Thank goodness the pizza shows up right then and I’m able to jog down the yard and pay for dinner, giving my semi a chance to cool down and my heart rate to drop to an acceptable speed.
It’s when Ashleigh, Elliot, and I sit down around the coffee table in front of the television that I’m able to think clearly and one question plays like a loop over and over in my head. What is this woman doing to me?
Ashleigh
After gorging on pizza last night, Ben and Elliot brought me back to my car at the church. He apologized profusely for what he called “stealing my night off” and I kept telling him not to worry about it. The truth is, I enjoyed hanging out with Ben and Elliot.
Once the confrontation in the front yard with that teenage asshole came to an end, we went inside and things got a little weird. If I was on one side of the kitchen, he stuck to the other. I criss-cross-applesaused it at his coffee table, and he sat as far away as he could on the couch. It was as if an invisible bubble had been placed between us, always keeping us at a distance.
A major departure from how close we got outside.
I assumed outside, he was fired up and not thinking about keeping his distance. And once he pulled it together and went back inside, surrounded by photos upon photos of his wife, he remembered the kind of man he was supposed to be—the off-limits kind. Too bad. He felt good pressed against me.
“No charge,” Howard says when he hands me back my phone, which looks like new.
“Are you sure?” I hold up my wallet as proof that I came in prepared to pay. “I’m happy to pay for your time.”
The old man is already shaking his head. “Absolutely not. I’ve known Pastor Langley all his life. He’s like family to me.”
“Really? So you knew him when he was a kid?”
“Sure did. Him and Jesiah were little hell-raisers.” He pulls off his glasses, rubs his eyes, and puts them back on. “Amazing they turned out as well as they did, considering their parents were such a mess.”
I lean forward against the counter. “In what way?”
“Brainwashed in some religious cult. They moved up to Oregon after Jesiah ran away. Figured Ben would go with ‘em, but he enrolled in seminary school. Smart move if you ask me.”
Huh… I didn’t know that about Ben.
“Anyway, Jesiah seems to be doing better now that he’s settled down with Bethany. Sweet girl. Can’t say I see what she sees in him.”
Umm… he’s hot, talented, has a big dick (or so I’ve heard), and he’d throw himself in front of a bus to keep her safe. Not to mention he’s famous and filthy rich, not that either of those things matter at all to Bethany.
“Thanks again for the new screen.”
“Any time. Will I see you in church on Sunday?”
I grin. “Yes, actually, I’ll be at the door. I just started as a volunteer. I’ll be greeting.”
“Good for you.” Howard smiles. “The world needs more good people like you.”
Oh wow. Good people? I’m good people?
I wave goodbye and head to my car with a bounce in my step. Powering up my phone, I see a bunch of missed calls from Bethany and a few texts from Anthony asking if I want to “hang out.” I roll my eyes and delete them. Stormie texted, asking me where the bleach and rubber gloves are.
“I don’t want to know what that’s for.” I hit a few buttons, fire up my car, and press the phone to my ear.
Bethany answers with a chirpy, “What the effing eff! I’m so effing mad! Jesse called Ben last night and he told us about that turd, Colette! I knew that girl was bad news. And she went to buy tampons, I am so sure. She is full of bullstick!”
“It would be better for you to not say the bad words at all rather than you baby-talking them like that.”
“What happened last night?”
I tell her the story, my version, which seems to be on the mark with what she already heard from Ben.
After a few seconds of silence, she says, “I think I should come back and help Ben out with Elliot.”
“He said he had it covered. I guess he’s going to get off work early or something.”
“He can’t do that! He has budget meetings and counseling and elder meetings and a church to run and—”
“I’m sure he’ll find a replacement.”
“Wait… why don’t you do it?”
I pull the phone away to make sure it’s Bethany I’m talking to. Yep, it is. “Are you out of your mind?”
Because my best friend knows I’m no nanny. Hell, most parents would pay me to stay away from their kids. And Ben is uber strict. I’d end up being another Colette, making some dumb decision that puts the kid in danger. Not that I’d do that purposefully, I’d try really hard not to, but I’m me and I tend to work better with adults.
“No. Ben said you were great with Elliot last night.”
He said I was great? I’m grateful we’re on the phone so she can’t see my stupid smile. “Yeah, because we both like pizza and SpongeBob. That was one night. I couldn’t do that every day.”
“It wouldn’t be forever, just until he finds someone else.”
“Do you hear yourself? I’m the girl who leaves her purse in the front seat of the car and forgets to lock it. I lose my phone all the time, go weeks without wearing underwear because I’m too lazy to do laundry, and I haven’t eaten a nutritionally balanced meal since I was a kid. I am not cut out to be responsible with someone else’s child.”
“You forgot to add that you’re also a liar because I know for a fact you go commando for weeks even when you do have clean underwear.”
I shrug even though she can’t see me. “See? I’m unfit.”
“You do realize perfection isn’t a prequalification for taking care of a kid, right?”
“Look, I know you think—”
“You took care of her just fine when you were here for the weekend and Ben had rehearsals.”
“Oh yeah? Was that before or after you reprimanded me for wearing a thong bikini to the beach with her?”
“I wasn’t reprimanding you! Just thought it was a brave choice.”
“Whatever, the bottom line is there is no way in heaven or hell that Ben would trust me with his kid for an extended period of time if he had another option.”
“You really need to work on your self-esteem.”
I shake my head. “At least I’m realistic. I know where my strengths are and they’re in the art of seduction, making the perfect martini, and being insanely flexible. Oh! And I can rock a pair of leather leggings. Child-rearing ain’t my wheelhouse.”
“Fine.”
“Fine!”
“I’ll just tell Jesse I’m going back to Surprise for a few weeks until Ben finds a suitable replacement.”
At a stop sign I check my lipstick in the re
arview. “Perfect! I’d say you could stay with me, but it’s a little crowded at my place, what with Stormie and all of her genital diseases.”
“Gross.”
“And um, one more thing.” I pull into the lot at work and find a shady spot to park. “I usually wouldn’t tell you this since Ben is your brother-in-law, but you’re my best friend and I seriously need to unload something.”
“What is it?”
“Last night? The situation between Ben and Colette got pretty heated.” I explain how I stood in front of Ben to keep him from launching himself at the girl. “Anyway, at one point, and I know this sounds crazy, but…” I bite my lip, remembering the thick, solid heat that brushed against my ass. “Ben had a very impressive boner.”
“It’s about fucking time!”
I stare blindly ahead because that wasn’t Bethany’s shouted response.
It was Jesse’s.
“Were you eavesdropping on my conversation?” Bethany’s talking to Jesse.
“Do you have me on speakerphone?” I ask.
“Yes,” she answers. “I’m in the bathroom, curling my hair and—I can’t believe you were listening!”
“Ash,” Jesse says, his voice louder as I assume he’s now in the bathroom, “you’re a fucking miracle worker! How’d you do it? Striptease? You give him a handy while watching Disney?”
“Ha!” I wish. “No, sicko. That’s the thing. I didn’t do anything.”
“No shit…” he says with a smile in his voice. “Color me impressed. Benji must really like you.”
“Um, no. We’re friends.”
“Sure, babe.”
“I’m serious! He even said we’re like family.”
“Whoa, he’s a kinky fuck.”
“Shut up,” Bethany says, followed by the sound of a smack that makes him growl. She giggles, then there’s the sound of kissing and moaning.
“All right, I’m hanging up now!” I hit End, toss my phone into my purse, and feel my lips turn up.
Could Ben really like me?
No. I’m sure it was the adrenaline spike, or maybe he gets turned on easily. I’m sure he hasn’t had sex since Maggie died. If I’d gone six years without sex, a stiff breeze would make me orgasm.
