by T. L. Haddix
Ben felt as if his face were on fire, but he nodded. “I do. Thanks, Nonny.”
They moved on to other topics then. While Ben wasn’t one hundred percent sure he would find the courage to go through with it, he felt better about the direction he was leaning. Eliza was right. With all the little threads tying him to Ainsley this time around, the circumstances just felt too fateful to be coincidence.
Chapter Eighteen
Ainsley hadn’t heard a peep from Ben since she’d seen him on Saturday afternoon. Since it was late Monday evening, she figured she’d gotten her answer as to whether he was serious or not. It wasn’t that she was vain, exactly, but, well… He was a man.
She wasn’t the only one disappointed, oddly enough. After hearing about the conversation, Byrdie had been almost as excited as Ainsley had. She’d been sure that Ben would show up and had practically danced around the house for two days. But not today. Today, she’d moped.
“What’s the world coming to when a man doesn’t take a beautiful woman up on an offer to share her bed for a few nights of uncomplicated lovemaking?” she fumed as she cleaned up the kitchen after supper that evening. “I swear, they just don’t make men like they used to.”
Ainsley burst out laughing. “Byrdie, you make it sound like they come from a factory or something. And it’s his choice. Obviously, the pull of attraction wasn’t as strong as I thought it was. At least I know now.”
“Well, when we get back home, we’re going to find you a man. You can finally cut the ties to this whole mess and find a good man to make me some grandbabies with.”
“Byrdie…”
The older woman held up her hand. “Adopted or conceived, love is love. Or are you going to try and say I would love you more if I’d carried you for nine months? Because, baby girl, that ain’t even possible, and you know it.”
Ainsley smiled tearily. “I do know it. I feel the same way about you. You’re the mother of my heart.”
That had them both soggy-eyed. After a good hug, Ainsley stretched, arching her back as the muscles tensed and flexed. “I’d better get some of that paperwork Jonah sent me taken care of. I’m hoping we can wrap things up here in three or four weeks and go home. This dividing my attention isn’t ideal.”
Three hours later, she’d finished up most of the correspondence Jonah had forwarded her from the farm. Byrdie had gone to bed just after nine, and Ainsley changed into her comfortable bathing suit to perform the nightly duties on the pool. The night was warm, but not unbearable, and she made the short trip from the guest room to the pool on bare feet. The concrete patio was warm under her feet, and she instinctively kept an eye out for snakes.
Using the skimmer, she made slow trips around the water’s perimeter, dipping in to skim off leaves and other debris that had made its way into the pool throughout the day. She’d almost finished when movement caught her eye, and she looked up to see Ben coming across the yard.
She stopped breathing, going as still as a statue as she watched him approach. Her hands clenched around the cool metal handle of the skimmer, and when she started seeing stars sparkling in her peripheral vision, she drew in a lungful of air.
“Hey.” He looked as nervous as she felt, glancing around at everything and nothing at the same time. “I, uh, thought I’d stop by.”
“I—,” Her voice came out in a squeak when she tried to talk. They both smiled nervously at that, then looked away from each other. She tried again. “I see that.”
Ben edged closer, and Ainsley saw that his hands were loose fists at his sides. “If it isn’t okay that I’m here, I can go.”
“No! I mean, no, it’s fine.” She sighed and brushed a loose hair back off her face. “This is awkward. I don’t really know how to approach this,” she confessed.
“Me, either,” he admitted with a lopsided smile. “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want.”
Oh, this is so hard, she thought. “I do want. I’m just not sure how to go about the logistics of things.”
Ben reached out and took the skimmer, which he set aside. Holding out a hand, palm up, he waited patiently. With a fluttering movement that reminded her of a butterfly landing on a flower blossom, Ainsley put her hand in his. His fingers, warm and solid, immediately curled over hers. He tugged her gently, and she took a step closer to him.
“Let’s try this. Hello, Ainsley.”
“Hello, Ben.”
He used his free hand to touch her face, tracing the lines of her eyebrow, her cheek, and her lips. Not whimpering with longing took every bit of strength she had, but she managed it. The look on his face as he touched her was hard to interpret in the light reflected off the pool. She finally settled on “intense” as a description. Bringing up her hands, she let them rest on his chest, suddenly terrified she would do something wrong and run him off.
“What now?” she whispered.
“Now we dance.” Lowering his head, he brushed her lips with his once, twice, three times before settling his mouth over hers and sealing them together in a searing kiss. Within seconds, the heat between them had built to almost unbearable levels. Being back in his arms after she’d thought that was gone forever was almost more than she could handle.
Breathing hard, he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. One hand was pulling her into him at the waist, and the other cupped her face.
“We should talk about this. Establish what we’re doing,” he ground out. He nipped at her mouth again, his hand moving around to slide into her hair. He used it to tug her head back, to get a better angle and deepen the kiss.
Ainsley’s arms had come up around his neck, and she threaded her fingers into his curls, her nails scraping his scalp.
This time, he tore his mouth from hers and took two steps back. A ruddy flush had spread across his cheekbones, and his eyes were heavy and slumberous as he clearly struggled to hold on to his control.
“Ground rules. What is this, what we’re doing?”
Ainsley’s hands came up to press against her own hot cheeks, and it took her a full minute to process the question. “I don’t know. I can’t make any promises. I’m not trying to be evasive or cruel, Ben. I’m so sorry that things before—”
“No. We can’t talk about before. Right now, all I’m interested in is keeping this simple. Right now, a few nights spent together having some fun is all I can handle. I’m fine with no promises.”
“Okay.” Taking her courage into her hands, Ainsley set forth some rules of her own. “I can’t get pregnant, so I’m not worried about that. But you will use a condom, every time. That’s not negotiable. I’m sorry.”
Ben nodded. “I’m fine with that, too. I’m not as naive as that kid you fooled around with in the backseat. The world has changed, even in a few short years. It pays to be cautious these days.”
Ainsley felt the words like a gentle reproof, but he was right. She wanted to ask just how many women he’d had the occasion to be cautious with, but she didn’t know if she could handle the answer.
“I picked up some condoms in town,” she told him instead.
“And I brought some. Looks like we’ll be covered.”
The unintentional pun surprised a sputter of laughter out of her. “You could say that.”
Ben shook his head, rubbing at his mouth to hide his grin. “Shall we go inside?” He held out his hand again, and Ainsley took it.
“It will be an interesting change, to try this in an actual bed.” She winced. “You said to not bring up the past. I’m sorry.”
“There’s no way we can avoid it completely. I just don’t think either of us is ready for a dissertation. And I’m looking forward to trying this in a bed, too,” he told her softly. “I’ll follow you.”
As she led him to the guest room, hand in hand, she tried to focus on her exc
itement, and not her fear. “I’ve not done this in a while, been intimate,” she told him over her shoulder as they went into the bedroom. “So I don’t know how… It’s been a while. That’s all.”
Ben’s hands on her shoulders were gentle as he turned her to face him. “I’ll keep that in mind. And you can stop me any time. Just tell me, okay?”
“Okay.”
The lamp on the nightstand was on, and she looked at him in its warm glow. He looked so big and so male, she was a bit unnerved. At the same time, her hands itched to touch him again, to relearn the lines and planes of his body and feel his skin against hers. It hardly seemed real, that Ben was there, with her. Finally, after so much longing and want, she would be able to satisfy her need for him.
His eyes on hers, he unbuttoned the casual shirt he was wearing and shrugged out of it. He tossed it aside, and before it hit the floor, Ainsley had met him halfway in closing the distance between them. All thoughts of taking things slow fled as they fumbled and fought to get each other undressed. When they pressed against each other, skin to skin, she cried out, the contact was so powerful.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” he told her. He walked her backward to the bed, following her down onto the mattress. Ainsley didn’t even notice that he had a condom in his hand until he drew back to put it on. His hands were shaking, and seeing that, she felt a little like crying.
“Ben…”
“I know. I know.” Once it was on, he came back to lie over her. Ainsley wrapped her legs around his and ran her hands over his body as they kissed. When the tip of his erection brushed against the aroused flesh between her legs, she arched off the bed, trying to maintain the contact. He moved farther down her body, kissing her breasts. Ainsley tangled her hands in his hair and tugged him back.
“Please…”
When he sealed their mouths together in a kiss at the same time as he used his hand to check her arousal, she shattered.
Not stopping to let her come down, he used his weight to spread her open. He raised her legs so that they were wrapped around his hips, and slowly but steadily he penetrated her. He didn’t stop until he was all the way inside, and held still only for a few beats as they both absorbed the shock of being so close to each other. Then he was moving, and Ainsley held on with arms and legs, meeting his thrusts.
He reached up and pulled her arms down from his neck, almost violently. Ainsley didn’t care. Pinning them above her head, he laced their fingers together and broke the kiss, breathing into the space where her shoulder met her neck as he moved faster. With a low groan, he thrust one last time, holding himself against her tightly.
Aroused again, but not sure what to do about it, she almost cried with relief when he brought her right hand between them.
“Do it. Do what you need to do. Come apart around me.”
And so she did.
When it was over, he pulled out and rested beside her. They were both drenched in sweat and breathing hard.
“Bed’s nice,” he muttered against her ear, then pressed a kiss underneath it.
Ainsley laughed, softly at first, but then with true amusement. She ran her foot along his leg, exploring the muscles and skin with her toes. “Very nice,” she answered, turning her head to look at him. He still had his right hand around her left, and she tightened her grasp. “Very, very nice, indeed.”
Every cell in Ben’s body was satisfied and vibrating. He’d intended to come here tonight, be cool, and take what was offered. He would enjoy it, but he wouldn’t get wrapped up in Ainsley’s spell.
As soon as he kissed her, he’d been lost. Feeling her hands, desperate and eager to touch him, had almost unmanned him. When he’d gotten her hot and naked beneath him…
He was in big trouble. He just couldn’t bring himself to care overmuch at the moment. The slow, easy way she ran her foot up and down his leg, the soft look in her eyes, and the hint of a smile on her kiss-swollen lips reached deep inside him and grabbed that part of his soul that he’d hidden when she’d left him. He could feel her metaphorical tugging. That snapped him out of the sated-lust haze he’d been wallowing in, at least enough to pull back.
“Bathroom?”
She pointed over her head. “Over there.”
He got up and grabbed a tissue off the nightstand, then went to the bathroom and closed the door. He took care of his needs, then washed up. He couldn’t meet his reflection’s gaze in the mirror.
A soft tap on the door distracted him. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry. I need the bathroom.”
“Come on in.”
They passed each other in the doorway, and Ben let his hand brush against her breast. She squeezed his hand and pushed him out of the way, closing the door in his face.
He didn’t know what to do with himself, so he wandered over to the pile of discarded clothing on the floor and started sorting. Feeling vulnerable, he pulled on his briefs, then put the rest of the clothes over the arm of a nearby loveseat. Restless, he stepped to the french doors and looked out at the pool.
Ben had not been celibate in the last few years. He hadn’t been with that many women, but he’d sowed a few wild oats. Although he’d not been intimate with all the women he’d dated, not by a long shot, he never beat himself up too much if things turned sexual. He’d even had a six-month relationship with his last girlfriend.
When she started getting antsy about not wanting to use condoms, he’d known it was time to bow out. He’d felt a lot of affection for her, but had no interest in making their connection a permanent one.
Ainsley’s insistence that he used condoms was telling, as before, they’d been hit-and-miss the few times they’d been together. She was on the pill then, and Ben had loved her and thought she loved him. He hadn’t wanted any barriers between them. They had only been intimate a few times, but more often than not, he’d gone bare.
She was the only woman he’d ever been completely open with. After learning the depths of her betrayal, he’d sworn she would be the last. A soft click alerted him, and he turned.
“Hey. I’m a little thirsty. Do you want something cold to drink?” She had pulled on the silky robe he’d seen hanging on the back of the door.
“Sure. Maybe a beer?”
She held out her hands apologetically. “There’s no alcohol in the house. I’m sorry.”
That was interesting, but he didn’t comment on it. “Then whatever you have is fine. Do you mind if I stay here, though?”
“No. I’ll be right back.”
When she returned a couple of minutes later, she had a plate with two forks and a not-small piece of cake on it. Two bottles of cola were tucked under her arm, and Ben hurried over to take them.
“Thanks. I’m a little hungry, too, so I brought some carrot cake.” Ben’s stomach rumbled, and she laughed. “Maybe I should have brought two pieces?” She handed him the plate and turned. “I’ll be back. You eat that one.”
Ben didn’t protest. He headed for the loveseat. Putting the cold drinks down, he sat and dug into the cake. By the time Ainsley returned, he’d devoured half of it.
“This is amazing,” he told her. “Byrdie’s a good cook.”
Ainsley huffed as she sat in the opposite corner of the loveseat, her legs crossed. “Byrdie is a good cook, but I made this, thank you very much. I still love to cook.” She took a bite of the much smaller piece of cake. “And I do most of the cooking these days. She hurt her knee pretty badly last fall, and for once, I got to be the one to take care of her. We’ve kept the pattern somewhat.”
“She lives with you in Lexington?”
“Mm-hmm. Has for years. She and Jonah have saved me, and I mean that. If they weren’t there at the farm, I think I’d go crazy.” She grimaced as he paused, his cola halfway to his mouth, to stare at her in disbelief.
“Who is Jonah?” Ben’s voice was dangerously quiet, as the idea that she was involved with someone and was using him as a diversion again raced through his mind.
She hurried to explain. “We’re not involved. But it’s complicated. Very complicated. He was Doug’s best friend.”
The cake sat like lead in Ben’s stomach. “Your late husband’s best friend just happens to live in the same house as you, but you aren’t involved?”
“No, he lives in the carriage house, half a mile down the road.” The red flags on her cheeks were bright against the paleness of her face. “He’s gay. That’s need-to-know only, and I’d appreciate you keeping it to yourself.”
Ben watched her closely, unsure whether to believe her. From the subdued look on her face, he figured Ainsley knew he was having difficulty with the concept.
“Are you involved with anyone? At all?” he rasped.
She shook her head. “No. I’m not. Are you?” Her chin came up, and he saw that she was a little angry.
“No.” He set the plate on the table beside the loveseat, next to his half-empty drink. He thought about pushing her then, demanding that she tell him why she’d left him, but he couldn’t do it. He didn’t want to completely destroy the evening. “Tell me about your house in Lexington. What’s it like?”
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she played with the remnants of her cake, and Ben could see her calming down. “Dragonfly Creek Farm is situated in the middle of prime horse country real estate. It’s out toward Versailles a little ways, not so much in Lexington. Doug and I bought it about a year after we were married.”
Ben ignored the pang that pierced him at the thought of her husband. “Is it an actual farm, or is that just the name?”
She smiled. “It’s a working horse farm, a retirement farm for thoroughbreds. Close to two hundred acres, with four barns, stately manor house. I fell in love with the house first. It’s so old and genteel, not modern and cold like this monstrosity. It’s about as far from this house as you can get, as a matter of fact.” She handed him her plate and drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around them. “There is a kitchen garden, a formal garden, and even part of a maze. You’d love it.”
