Oh shit. He’d put his foot in it now. “It was just a question.”
Now two spots of red were burning in her cheeks. “You want me to abandon Felix? I can’t do that. He needs me.”
“Okay. Okay. I get it.”
But she was on a roll now. “I’m his godmother, and that’s so important to me. Savannah and Felix are the only family I have. Not all families are based on blood ties.”
“I know that.”
“No, you can’t really understand, because you have your brothers.”
Now they were in familiar territory. “Sweetheart, I do understand. That’s why we used to talk about all the kids we wanted to have, remember? You wanted a family of your own. We both did.”
“Well, now I have one.” Her pulse was pounding in her throat, her chin stubbornly lifted. He knew better than to point out that her dream family, the one they’d talked about as teenagers, involved her own babies, not Savannah’s. He’d stumbled into a minefield here and he had to get out.
He knew why, too. He’d skipped ahead to the part where she was happily settled in Jupiter Point and he could see her whenever he wanted. “I’m sorry, Juls. Of course Felix is your family, and so is Savannah. I do understand. I swear I do.”
“Okay. Good.”
Slowly she relaxed, the tension leaving her shoulders, and she sat back in her chair. She took a swallow of the wine she’d brought. Then another one. She fiddled with the stem of the wine glass—okay, so maybe she hadn’t completely relaxed, he realized. Damn, he’d really stepped in it.
“Are we okay?” he asked cautiously.
She nodded, then gave him a careful look. Uh-oh, he remembered that expression. It meant something serious was coming.
“Maybe it’s a good thing this came up. Because we should be really super clear about what’s going on here.”
“Sure. Clear is good. Clear skies, clear sailing. Clear skin.” He rubbed his jaw ruefully, a reference to the acne that had plagued him in high school. Also, a blatant ploy to play on their shared history.
She didn’t smile. “Felix is my first priority. Everything else comes after him.”
Now it was his turn to go for the wine—mostly so he could delay his answer. He had to get this right, or he sensed that she might flee. “I understand,” he said eventually.
“I can’t imagine making any decisions that don’t put him first.”
“I get it. Really, I do. I just have one question. Who comes after Felix? Savannah?”
She looked back down at her wine glass, tracing a drop of red liquid down the side. “I don’t know. Maybe. After my mom died, she was the only person keeping me from being homeless, remember? The Reinhards didn’t seem to care about me one way or the other. They liked feeling charitable but I always knew if I caused them too much trouble, they might change their minds. I used to lie in bed at night and think about what might happen if Savannah decided she didn’t like me anymore, or wanted me gone. I figured they would have kicked me out like that.” She snapped her fingers. “But she never made me feel that way. Not once. She never held that kind of threat over my head.”
“Of course not. Only a really rotten person would do that.”
In his eyes, Savannah wasn’t nearly as generous as Julie thought. Once, when he’d had too many shots of Jägermeister at a party, he’d asked her why she hadn’t been upset when he and Julie had gotten together. She’d just shrugged and said that she was upset at first, but then realized that with Julie “off the market,” neither of them had to worry about competing anymore.
Which was absurd, because Julie had never competed with Savannah. Her mother used to lecture her about that. Don’t make waves. Remember that it’s their house. Their world. The deGaias were just “extras” in the Reinhard movie.
“I know Savannah comes across as super-confident, but she’s not,” Julie was saying. “She’s very sensitive. Her parents were so cold to her, always trying to control her. They weren’t affectionate like my mother. I always knew that Mom loved me. That was why we moved to Jupiter Point, so that I’d have a decent place to live, good schooling. She wanted me to have stability. If not for me, she would have kept traveling. She put me first.”
It finally dawned on Ben. “So you want to do the same thing for Felix. Put him first.”
She nodded. “I love Savannah, and I know how much she loves Felix. But he’s always been really challenging. She needs support, and so does Felix, especially now that Savannah’s gone so much. He needs consistency.”
He took a sip of wine to keep himself from asking the logical next question—what did she need?
Still, she caught his expression. “Don’t start thinking I’m some kind of self-sacrificing saint. I’m not. The truth is, I just really love that kid. He was such a funny baby, like a little newborn owl.”
“He still looks like an owl. A curly-haired one.”
“He does, doesn’t he?” Julie’s smile radiated pure affection. Ben actually felt jealous of Felix for a moment. “Look, Ben, I know you think I cater to the Reinhards too much. But it’s really not about that. That’s actually why I started Green and Pristine, so I wouldn’t be on their payroll, like some kind of nanny.”
She drained her glass of wine and poured herself some more. He hid a smile, remembering how even their occasional beach-party-Solo-cup-keg-beers used to make her extra chatty.
“I looked around and thought, what job does no one really want to do, that I’m totally used to, that doesn’t require a lot of interaction? I didn’t want to work for someone else, I wanted my own business. I didn’t even have my high school degree until I got my GED later on. I didn’t qualify for much.”
Talk about a tough situation; but Julie was never one to back down from a challenge. And she’d done it. She’d started her own business and thrived.
Ben leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs. “I had no idea how hard starting my own business would be. I can’t believe you did all that at seventeen. Actually, I can. You were always so on the ball. You were the smartest person I knew, and the kindest.”
Her face flamed pink as she gave him an embarrassed smile. “And you were the sweetest.”
“Sweet? Damn. Not again with the ‘sweet’. When are you going to delete that word?”
“Never. You were the sweetest, kindest, most tender, affectionate, loving…” With each word, she inched her chair closer to him, until they were side by side, and then she was slipping onto his lap. “Wonderful, amazing…” Now she was kissing him, little feather touches of her lips along his neck. “Extremely handsome, oh so sexy, sometimes funny…”
“Sometimes funny? I used to make you laugh until you peed your pants.”
“Sometimes. Other times you cracked the lamest jokes. It’s okay,” she said quickly. “I liked them anyway. And honestly, it’s not good to be too perfect.”
He snuggled her against him, a warm bundle of sweet-smelling woman—his woman.
No, not his. She’d just finished telling him why she wasn’t his. Couldn’t be.
Her kisses reached his jaw, where she encountered a layer of stubble. “You’re a lot hairier than you used to be,” she murmured.
“That’s because men are hairy. And I’m a man now.” He thumped his chest with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around her.
“Yes, I think you are,” she said thoughtfully, after dropping a kiss on his earlobe.
“What clued you in? My bulging muscles? My sexy-ass flight jacket? My big hard co—”
She sealed his lips with hers before he could get too down and dirty. They dove into a hot, deep, slow and passionate kiss.
When that kiss finally came to an end, she was breathing fast. She ran her tongue over her lips, a lingering movement that made his cock swell against her leg.
“No, none of those things,” she said. “Though they’re all true. It’s the fact that you’re mature enough to understand where I’m coming from, and why we can’t be anything more than lov
ers.”
“And friends,” he added, through the stab of pain to his heart.
“And friends.” Her radiant smile didn’t soothe him one bit. In fact, it made things worse. “I was afraid that making love would change things too much. I shouldn’t have worried. This whole grown-up thing is great, isn’t it? It’s like having your cake and eating it, too. We can be friends and have sex and no one gets hurt. Maybe this is what they call adulting.”
He managed to smile at her even though none of what she said felt right to him. Have your cake and eat it, too? The cake she was describing was like the kind her mom used to make. Gluten and dairy free with too much sugar in the frosting to make up for the cardboard consistency. Sex was good. Friendship was good. But underneath it all, his heart yearned for something else. Something only she could give him.
But he would never get it from her. He knew that now.
This was a good thing. Better to know. Because maybe all this time, part of him had been hoping for and dreaming of the day he and Julie found each other again.
Well, they had.
And it was wonderful and terrible and…fuck. Confusing as hell.
He hid his sudden emotion behind a laugh—his tried-and-true method. “How about we skip the cake and feast on something else?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you saying there actually is cake here?”
“Would I invite you over and not include dessert? Would I let all that training from high school go to waste? I got a chocolate hazelnut torte from Pie in the Sky.”
“Chocolate hazelnut…” She batted her eyelashes at him adoringly. “I take it back. You are perfect.”
He smiled modestly. “Told you.”
“We’ll get to that cake.” She swung herself on top of him and began unbuttoning her—his—shirt. “After.”
20
Julie was right; sex with Ben did change everything. Just not in the way she’d thought. Maybe that was because they’d made things clear from the start. They weren’t trying to “get back together” or resurrect what they used to have. They were simply two adults enjoying each other in a physical way.
Sure, there had been moments that first night when she’d looked into Ben’s eyes and seen something deeper, more intense.
But that—whatever it was—had disappeared, and ever since then, he’d been the laughing, carefree, playful, teasing Ben who made everything more fun.
Being with Ben felt like a puzzle piece falling into place. It all clicked, just how it used to. Every day glowed with a happy light because they were together.
Rehearsing the part of Sandy became the highlight of her days. While Felix was in school, she’d rush over to Knight and Day and study her part until Ben got back from flying. Then he’d run lines with her until his next flight. If he had something to do in the hangar, she’d hop onto a stool and hang out with him there. The time would fly by.
And yes, there were those naughty moments when he’d get that certain look on his face, and desire would spark in her belly.
“C’mere,” he told her gruffly one day. When he sounded like that, rough with lust, she’d do anything he said. She followed him to the back of the hangar into the little restroom, which smelled like motor oil and hand cleanser. He locked the door and they stared at each other for a long, pulsating moment. A deep flush of desire swept through her. Her pulse pounded, her throat tightened, lips parted, nipples hardened. She waited, waited, until she couldn’t take anymore.
“Ben—” she began.
“Turn around and put your hands against the wall.”
She did, palms against the smooth plaster. He came behind her and slid a hand between her panties and her warm sex. A jolt of sharp pleasure ripped through her. She ground against his hand, seeking more of his rough palm. There, there, harder, God…
“Lower,” he rasped. “I want to get inside you.”
Cool air breezed against her skin as he unzipped her pants and pulled them down, just enough to bare her ass. She let his hands position her the way he wanted. She was still throbbing with need, panting, dripping. She heard another zip, the rip of a condom foil, then felt his hot hard flesh against hers. His hand came around her front again, found her sex. Pressed between his body and his hand, she pumped her hips, delirious pleasure making her moan. He entered her in one deep thrust. He took a long panting breath there. She pushed back, wanting more of him, faster.
So he hammered into her, one hand massaging her clit, the other braced against the wall. And she exploded into an orgasm so hard and fierce, she nearly blacked out. A few moments later he groaned deeply, his body going taut behind her.
The experience was so intense that he stumbled backwards toward the sink. His ass hit the faucet and the sound of streaming water made her jump.
She spun around, jeans at mid-thigh, then burst out laughing. He fumbled with the faucet, still shaky from that crazy climax. “What was that, practice for the mile-high club?”
He finally got the water turned off and slumped against the sink. “Apparently we need a lot of practice. Jesus. I think I bruised my right nut.”
She couldn’t stop laughing after that. She laughed a lot with Ben. She always had.
One night, they went to the Seaview Inn for dinner, and discovered that the manager remembered them from before.
“You were the kids that got a free meal from the couple at the next table,” he told them as he showed them to a table on the terrace. “I never forgot that. And you’re still together after all these years?”
Neither of them corrected him. Instead, they sat on the terrace, holding hands as they watched the sun spread golden sparkles across the ocean before sinking out of sight.
It was so beautiful, and yet so ordinary. Just watching the sunset, hand in hand. One of those ordinary things Ben had mentioned. Ordinary, and yet extraordinary because they were together again.
They tried to catch up on everything that had happened during the past twelve years. Ben told stories about the Air Force and life on base. Julie talked about her misadventures in Los Angeles. He laughed until he cried over her story of getting lost on the freeways and ending up in the desert instead of the beach. Or her one day as a barista, when the milk steamer had exploded.
“So what about your singing career? What happened with that?”
“What singing career?” She laughed it off, though it was a sore point. “Do you know how many girls go to LA hoping for a performing career? It would be easier to run for president. Better odds. I tried hard, and Savannah did everything she could, but I’m not really ambitious enough. I’d rather just write my songs and sing in the shower.”
“Well, if you need help rehearsing those shower songs, you know I’m there for you,” he offered with a wink.
She took him up on that. The things that man could do with a removable showerhead…
One day, Evie dropped off the framed photo she’d put on hold, the one that showed Ben at the controls of his plane. Thrilled, she hung it in the living room, where it was the only personal photo in their temporary apartment. When Ben came over, she showed it off proudly.
“I’m calling it ‘Ben in His Happy Place.’”
“Maybe the G-rated version,” he growled, walking her back toward the bedroom. “In here, that’s the X-rated one.”
She giggled as he tossed her over his shoulder and marched toward the bed.
After a while, she noticed there was one thing Ben didn’t talk much about at all. His mother. He told her about the night of the murder, about Tobias waking him up and asking him to tell Janine while Tobias dealt with the police. After that, he changed the subject. Every time.
Now, when she looked at that photo, she saw something different. It didn’t show all of Ben, just the back of his head. He was keeping parts of himself hidden. Not the sexy parts, but the vulnerable parts.
Ben definitely had scars that hadn’t been there before. Then again, so did she. But would those scars come between them? Maybe
not, as long as they kept things light.
Felix was growing more comfortable with Jupiter Point. He liked the school and hardly ever asked for a sick day anymore. He’d made friends with another kid, a large boy who’d been held back for a year. The boy—Tanaka, from Samoa—stepped in to protect Felix from being bullied during recess. After that, they became buddies and Felix helped him with his schoolwork. It turned out he was struggling because of language issues, because no one would talk to him. They were afraid of his intimidating size.
But Felix never had any trouble talking. He’d rattle on about his current obsessions, airplanes and engines and the Alex Rider series. Sometimes Sarah joined in. She was a talker, too. Julie would take them all to the Milky Way after school and they’d work on teaching Tanaka the words “ice cream” and “fudge.”
The three of them were the oddest group of friends—the adorable blond pixie, the overly serious kid in glasses, and the large boy towering over them both. But it worked. Before long, Tanaka’s language skills reached grade level, and he was bumped back up to his own class.
Felix also started to warm up to his grandparents—or at least he didn’t complain so much about spending time with them.
“He sounds pretty happy there,” Savannah told Julie, after Felix got bored and handed the phone to her, then wandered into his room to work on his homework. He loved homework.
“It’s working out. Your parents are adapting. I have to give them credit. At first they were expecting Felix to be a regular kid, but now they appreciate him the way he is. They like thinking there’s a genius in the family.”
Savannah gave a bitter snort. “Are we really using the word ‘family’ when it comes to them?”
Julie’s heart twisted. Savannah had no idea what it really felt like to have no family. Hopefully she never would. “You should give them a chance. People mellow, you know. They’re in their sixties now.”
“I know my parents. Mellow is not in their vocabulary. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about them. What else is happening in Jupiter Point? Just the good stuff, nothing with the word Reinhard.”
Hot and Bothered Page 16
