Slowly, his heart settled into a normal rhythm, his jaws stopped throbbing, and he was able to flex his fingers until his urge to make fists ebbed away. Sissy. He already missed her, and with only a limited knowledge of what she must have been through, he felt his affection for her deepen.
“I love her, Finn. She’s everything I ever wanted: sweet, pretty, honest, caring, and responsible. But what if I make a wrong move with her and mess this up?”
Finn tilted his head, peered at Ben, and then let loose with a growl-bark noise that he’d never made before. Feeling as if his skin might turn inside out, Ben opened the driver’s-side door, leaped to the ground, and called to his dog.
“Yes, Finnegan, we’ll take a walk. God knows I need to burn off these feelings somehow.”
* * *
The next night Ben returned to the café just before closing time to help Sissy do after-dinner cleanup and prep. Afterward he turned to Sissy and said, “Let’s go next door to the Straw Hat for dinner and then take in a movie. Patches and Finn will enjoy playing while we do the same.”
She fiddled with her hair. “I look a fright.”
“You look fabulous. Come on. Just say yes.”
She smiled and nodded. Within minutes they were sitting in a booth at José’s, keeping him open later than usual, but he didn’t seem to mind. “What a rare treat to see you here, Sissy,” he marveled aloud. “Normally, you order takeout and I walk it next door.”
“I’m playing hooky,” she replied with a dimpled grin. “And afterward we’re walking over to the Mystic Players Theatre. They have a late movie playing. We don’t care what it is.”
José laughed. “I hear it’s an oldie but a goodie. Most films last only ninety minutes. You should still get a fair night’s sleep.”
Both Ben and Sissy ordered enchiladas with green sauce, filled with minced chicken, cheese, and rice. While they waited for their meals, they gazed at each other over flickering candlelight. It reminded Sissy of her imagined dinner with him at his house, and she smiled. She no longer felt threatened by the thought of her and Ben being an item. Sparking, as Christopher had called it. She’d told Ben she loved him, and she’d meant it. She just hoped he would still love her after she told him the sordid details of her life and parents.
“What?” he asked, as if he read in her expression that something was troubling her.
Sissy refused to lie to him. “I’m just thinking of all that I need to tell you. You have no idea where I come from.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad you’re here.”
It did matter, but Sissy didn’t want to spoil the evening by worrying about it. After enjoying their meal, they walked to the town center and took the cobbled path that circled the city park. It was a crisp night, but when Ben took hold of Sissy’s hand, his touch chased away the chill. When they reached the natural bridge, an amazing archway of stone created by the creek tunneling through it for hundreds of years, Ben let go of her hand to lock his arm around her shoulders. From across the stream, lights from Peck’s Red Rooster glistened upon the churning water like gold nuggets that had rained from the starlit sky.
“Next time, I’ll take you to eat there,” Ben said, his deep voice vibrating lightly against her shoulder. “I’ll reserve a table that overlooks the stream.”
Sissy hoped there would be a next time. Just as she looked up, he lowered his gaze, and as if a powerful magnet drew her toward him, she was suddenly gently cocooned in his strong embrace. The next instant, he kissed her. Not a light, nearly nonexistent feathering of his lips over hers, but still more of an invitation than a demand. Sissy wanted to accept the offer, only she wasn’t certain how.
“Slow and easy,” he whispered against her lips. “Relax against me and let your lips go soft. I’ll take it from there.”
He felt so thick through his arms, shoulders, and chest. So deliciously warm, with the night air still nipping at her back. As she had in her dream, she stepped up onto his boots to gain enough height to place her hands on his upper arms and press her nose against his throat to intoxicate herself with the scent of him, a delightful blend of male musk, cotton, a faint scent of soap, and a tantalizing masculine cologne. Being held in his arms made parts of her she hadn’t acknowledged start to ache and then burn with need.
He ran the tip of his tongue along the seam of her closed teeth, prompting her to open for him. When she did, she moaned with pleasure. This wasn’t a slobbery and brutal rape of her mouth, but more a shy hello, with him cautiously dipping deeper for a better taste of her, and in the process, she got her first taste of him. She felt his body shudder. Drawing his lips from hers, he murmured against her cheek.
“I’ve wanted this for so long.” His voice sounded different, coarser, deeper, and tighter. “If you want me to let go, just tap my arm. No need to feel trapped or try to escape.”
Sissy already knew that. Ben was different from any man she’d ever met. He resumed kissing her. Sissy wished it might never end. She had never wanted to be with a man. The experience was so new to her that she wasn’t even certain what she actually yearned for from him. She’d watched films, she understood the nuts and bolts of sexual intimacy, but she wasn’t quite certain how a couple went from heady kisses to actually doing the deed.
When he finally lifted his head, he smiled down at her. “You are incredible,” he whispered.
Sissy felt like a flower that had just opened its petals to the sun. “So are you.”
Keeping one arm loosely encircling her back, he glanced at his watch. “Well, as incredible as we both may be, we’re late for the movie.”
They decided to go regardless. Ben bought a large tub of popcorn and a soft drink for each of them. Sissy didn’t think she had room for a single bite, but she munched on the popcorn anyway. When a film scene cast relative darkness over the small theater, Ben licked the buttery salt from her lips and then dipped his tongue into her mouth. When light splashed over them, he ended the kiss.
Ben whispered, “If my folks are here, my dad will tell me to go find a room.”
Sissy giggled. “So when do you plan to take me to a room?”
He grinned at her. “When you’re ready.”
“What if I’m ready now?”
His grin broadened. “Oh, no. I’ll know when you are, and now isn’t it.”
As they walked home, Sissy asked, “What was that movie about?”
Ben, back to holding her hand, threw back his head and laughed. “It beats the hell out of me.”
* * *
That evening became the template for the nights that followed. Ben worked on the cat tunnels, went home to clean up, and returned to the café around a quarter after eight, smuggling Finn up the stairs to spend time with Patches in the flat. Sometimes he ordered a meal, always sitting beside Blackie at the counter to chat while he ate, and other nights, when he didn’t eat, he flirted outrageously with Sissy with only his eyes. Either way, when the last customer left, he helped Sissy in the kitchen and then he sometimes took her out for a meal or spent what was left of the evening with her upstairs, their only entertainment being kisses in between light conversational exchanges.
Their time alone together became almost as important to Ben as breathing and nearly as automatic. Every second while Ben was with Sissy, he was acutely aware of her. He loved the smell of her even when she wore no perfume. The faint lavender scent of her soap, the clean, sweet smell of her hair, the velvety softness of her skin when they accidentally touched. He wanted her so badly that he often lay awake at night, aching with need.
He struggled not to ask Sissy about her past. If he got her to talk about it maybe he’d know how to move forward without fucking things with her up. But Ben hated it when people tried to make him share personal stuff before he felt ready, and he wouldn’t do that to Sissy. She would talk about it when the moment felt right to her, and until th
en he could only wait and love her with all his heart.
He’d finally found that one special woman—a woman he wanted to stay with for the rest of his life. He instinctively knew that he would never grow bored with her. He’d learned during their evenings together that she was a witty conversationalist and had a quirky sense of humor. In a debate over whatever topic came up, she was quick on her feet and presented a well-conceived argument, but she never seemed resentful if he could convince her he might be right.
So, as much as he longed to lose himself in her physically, Ben found satisfaction in other ways. With each passing day, she seemed more relaxed with him. That was a good sign. She became more spontaneous and laughed more often. When she sat beside him on the floor to play with Patches and Finn, she’d sometimes lean against him, inviting him to drape an arm around her and follow up with a deep, lingering joining of their mouths. She no longer stiffened and tried to pull away when he touched her. Instead she went limp and pressed closer, comfortable with him, and sending him signals that she yearned for more.
Ben felt it was wiser to wait. He’d know when Sissy was truly ready, and when she was, he’d linger over her for hours while he made love to her. But the time wasn’t right yet. Sometimes when he caught her off guard, he saw in her eyes a bewilderment and pain he couldn’t understand. During those moments, he knew an awful memory had slipped into her mind. He wanted no unpleasant memories to come between them when he made love to her. None.
One night, Finn, who’d worked cattle all morning and afternoon, crashed on the bed Sissy had made for him beside Patches’s sleeping pad. Snoring softly, the dog was totally out of it, allowing Sissy and Ben to tussle gently with the kitten. Patches, who didn’t seem to realize he had no front feet, played as any kitten might, grabbing at a toy or their hands as if he had paws.
“He’s got mettle,” he told Sissy, lifting his arm slightly. “Look at him hug me tight. I think playing with Finn has been good for him. If he ever accidentally runs into a cat with claws, he’ll bypass all the swatting maneuvers and jump in for a bear hug. Then he’ll be able to use his teeth and his back feet to fight.”
Sissy’s eyes glowed with pleasure. “He’s so smart. His stubs are still a tiny bit tender. But the other day he slipped out the door and tried to run down the stairs in front of me. When it started to hurt, he flipped around and went down backward.”
“He’s going to grow up and be a gorgeous tomcat.”
Just then, Ben felt something crawl onto his lap. Finn was sacked out on his bed. Patches had a death grip on his wrist. Ben glanced down to see what the hell was on him—or, more precisely, on the fly of his jeans.
“Holy mother-fricking shit!” Ben shook Patches loose from his arm, shoved Snickers off his lap, and leaped to his feet. It took everything he had not to scream like a girl. “You little bastard. You bite me there, and you’re one dead rat!”
Snickers sat up and worried his hands. No, damn it, his paws, Ben reminded himself. Snickers looked up at him with bright, beady eyes, his expression inquisitive, as if to say, What’s your problem, man? I was just saying hello.
“Oh!” Sissy said softly, with that same mama tone she used with Finn and Patches. “My sweet boy.” She scooped the rat up in her hands and cuddled him close.
Ben watched, struggling not to say, Don’t let him near those gorgeous breasts. He could scar them for life.
She glanced up at Ben. “Don’t be afraid, Ben. He won’t hurt you.”
Okay, now Ben felt like a girl—and not just any girl, but a scaredy-cat girl who reacted to anything slightly alarming by shrieking, stomping her feet, and turning in circles. Sissy was probably surprised he hadn’t jumped up on the coffee table.
“I’m not afraid of him. He just startled me, is all.”
“Oh, good.” Cupping Snickers with one hand, Sissy patted the carpet beside her. “Sit back down and make friends. He is such a sweet thing.”
Ben would have preferred to have a wisdom tooth dug out of his gum without Novocain. But, damn it, a guy had to do what a guy had to do. He crossed his ankles and sat down. “If he bites me . . .”
“Oh, you big silly. Look at him! I’ve only ever seen his teeth when he was eating a blade of wheatgrass.”
“Trust me, he has teeth. And Jack says he’ll have to be quarantined for ten days if he bites. He could have rabies.”
Sissy giggled. “Does he act like he has rabies? Look at him. And you? You’re so big and strong. I can’t believe you’re afraid of a tiny guy like Snickers.”
“I am not afraid of him.” Okay, Ben thought, so I’m afraid of something. Big deal. “Let him go. I’m fine with it. Come here, Snickers.”
Ben waggled his fingers at the rat, hoping against hope that the rat would think he was waving good-bye.
Snickers did not read body language well. He scampered from Sissy’s lap and leaped onto Ben’s again. Ben stared down at the rat sitting atop the most valued part of his anatomy. The rat reared onto its haunches, worried his hands again, and wiggled his whiskers. Ben’s arms felt knotted and frozen. But he forced himself to cup his hands around one of the last creatures on earth he wanted to touch.
To his surprise, Snickers felt soft and warm. When he curled his front feet over Ben’s thumbs, it was a friendly touch, nothing about it aggressive. “Hi, little guy,” Ben said. “I forgot to plug up all your ingress holes.” Little bastard. “I’ll be sure to do that soon. You really shouldn’t be around Patches. He might catch something from you.”
“Oh, my God, you’re right.” Sissy scrambled to stand, sounding so distressed that Ben felt guilty. Well, almost. It was absolutely true that Snickers might be carrying diseases. “I need a gift for him. Something special. And then he’ll leave to go put it in his nest!”
“Scrunch up a piece of tinfoil,” Ben said. “He’ll love that.”
While Sissy rummaged in the kitchen, Ben ran his fingertips over the rat’s fur. Maybe Sissy had it right and rats weren’t so bad. Just then Finn awakened and came up off his bed as if someone had just torched his tail. Teeth bared and hackles raised, the pup lunged across the floor.
“No!” Ben said.
Finn stopped dead.
“This is Snickers,” Ben told the dog. “Friend. No!”
A hangdog expression settled on Finn’s mottled face. He sat down, curiously eyeing the rat. Ben would have urged Finn closer to touch noses and become acquainted, but Snickers was an animal that might be carrying diseases the pup wasn’t vaccinated against. The sooner Snickers left, the better. That thought was followed by inarguable fact: Snickers had already contaminated the flat with any dangerous germs he might be carrying, and neither the pup nor the kitten had gotten sick.
“Don’t let Finn hurt him!” Sissy cried.
“I won’t. It’s fine. Finn realizes now that even rats are welcome here.” Ben rolled his eyes at the dog. In a whisper, he said, “Next she’ll fall for a black widow.”
“I made it into a nice small ball for Snickers,” she called from the kitchen. “I pressed it tight. I don’t want him to eat any foil.”
“Good idea,” Ben said, smiling to himself. Snickers actually was cute. And he didn’t seem at all inclined to bite. This rat wasn’t a demon from hell. He was a little mammal with a cute face, inquisitive eyes, and a gentle nature. He was a key thief, though. It had cost Ben over a hundred dollars to replace his remote.
Sissy returned and placed the shiny ball of foil in front of Snickers on her upturned palm. “What do you think, Snickers?”
The rat grabbed the ball and leaped from Ben’s hands like a flea off a dog’s back. Then he was off. Ben turned to watch him leave. “He’s coming in and out through your bathroom.”
“Yes. But he’s entering the building somewhere downstairs. I hope, after we ratproof the place, that we can find his nest. It was good to see him again. He’s so sweet
and dear.”
“Tomorrow, I need to get that done,” Ben told her. “The ratproofing, I mean. I’ve been so caught up in you that I forgot all about it.”
Ben had to admit, if only to himself, that he could now tolerate the rat. But sweet and dear was carrying it too far. He joined Sissy in the bathroom to wash their hands with antibacterial soap. As they both scrubbed, Ben fantasized about getting her into a shower and running his hands all over her soap-slick body. If success were measured by a football field’s standards, he figured he was stuck on the ten-yard line. Showering with Sissy was so far off in his future that he couldn’t even see the goalposts.
Ben forced his mind to mundane matters. He needed to put a reminder on his phone to buy mountains of fine steel wool and fill every point of ingress in Sissy’s building with the stuff. Then he needed to follow Snickers back to his nest so Sissy could go there to visit him.
“So, how’s it going with your bookkeeping program?”
Ben almost groaned at her question. “Don’t ask.”
She laughed. “Give me your bank username and password, and start bringing me all your receipts. Then I can download all your transactions. You do so many things for me, I certainly don’t mind taking over your books. I’ll just do yours when I do mine.”
“Really? I hate doing that crap.”
Sissy laughed. “I kind of enjoy it. Scan me copies of your checkbook register each month, too.”
A few minutes later, Ben decided it was time for him and his dog to head for home. “When are you going to hire some help downstairs? You won’t have to get up so early then, and we can stay later.”
“A perfect reason to get an ad in the paper as soon as I find time.”
Normally, Sissy followed Ben and Finn downstairs to lock up after them, but tonight she said, “I’m going to spray with disinfectant just in case Snickers left germs. Do you mind saying good night up here? I’ll run downstairs in a couple of minutes to lock up.”
Ben shook his head. “No, I don’t mind.”
Mulberry Moon Page 24