“No! Not like that—”
“Then what was it like, Ana? Please, enlighten me. I’m dying to know what you were doing locked in a room with my brother when he was apparently taking his clothes off.”
A laugh bubbled out of me at the ridiculousness of his accusation. “You mean when he spilled beer all over his shirt because he was that drunk?”
Ben’s jaw clenched tight. “What were you doing with him, Ana?”
“Talking about you!” I screamed. “What do you think?”
“Me?” Though his tone was still hard, I saw the hint of relief in his eyes.
Against my wishes, it softened me. “He’s worried about you. Thought maybe I could help somehow.”
“Help with what?”
“He thinks we should . . .” I didn’t want to repeat the words Mitch had said—something about realizing what we had, and to not take it for granted—so I shrugged. “I told him it wasn’t up to me. I told him that you were the one that broke it off. Not me. He spilled beer all over himself, took his shirt off, and said he was going home. That was it.”
I glanced up to find Ben watching me. I shifted under the intensity of his gaze as the silence stretched between us.
“What if it was up to you?” he finally asked softly.
“I don’t . . .” I shook my head, not understanding.
“What if I said I didn’t want to be without you?” he added. “What if I said I can’t do it anymore? What would you say then?”
Against all reason, my heart jumped at his words. My breath caught in my throat, and it took me a few attempts to work up a response. “I think I would ask you . . . what changed?”
His eyes were wide and fearful when he shrugged. “Nothing changed. I just realized I was looking at everything wrong. I wanted to spare you from hurting if anything goes wrong over there, and I—”
“It doesn’t work like that, Ben,” I argued. “I can’t just shut off how I feel about you, whether we’re together or not.”
“I know,” he insisted. “I know that now.”
My head lowered as I absorbed what he was saying. I knew what my heart wanted, and that was him, in any way I could have him, whether he was physically with me or not. I would wait, however long it took, to be with him. If that was what he was asking me.
I swallowed the lump lodged in my throat. “What would you say if I told you I wanted to wait for you?”
His soft laugh danced across my cheek as he tipped my head back, forcing me to meet his warm gaze. “The thought of you waiting here for me, with the possibility that I might not come back, kills me.”
“Ben, I—”
“Wait. I have to say this.” His fingers gripped my waist as he pleaded. “I love you, Ana. I’ve loved you since we were kids, and somewhere along the way, I fell in love with you. Coming back and not having you in my life isn’t something I can live with. I want you to wait for me, even if I don’t deserve it.”
“Then I will.”
He resembled a statue as I wordlessly palmed his cheek. His eyes fixated on mine, and watched with silent interest as I leaned in. My eyes drifted shut as I pushed onto my tiptoes, and gently pressed my lips to his.
Our lips brushed together, as if taking their time getting reacquainted with each other. Other than my hand on his cheek, we didn’t touch. Everything was communicated through one soft touch of my lips to his.
Though it was easily the simplest kiss we’d ever experienced, rivaling the very first one we shared over five years ago in this exact same spot, I thought my heart might explode from the surge of emotion behind it. For being such a simple kiss, it was life-changing. It signaled the end of my individuality, and the beginning of my future with Ben.
I pulled away to whisper, “I’ve loved you since the moment you crawled into my bedroom in the middle of the night.”
Ben’s head bowed. The rush of air from his mouth blew the hair off my shoulder a second before his face nuzzled my neck. One arm curled around my waist to pull me to him. I went willingly, and with a contented sigh.
“I didn’t screw this up forever?” he asked softly.
“No.” I smiled against his warm shoulder.
“You’ll wait for me?”
I pulled back far enough to look into his eyes. “However long it takes.”
Ben’s eyes lowered to my mouth, and darkened with clear desire. “You know I might be gone for a long time . . .”
“I know.”
“A lot might change.”
“Not the important things,” I promised.
When his lips found mine this time, I pressed back with all the love I had to give. Deep down, a little voice reminded me that everything would change in a few weeks. He would leave to train and prepare for life as a soldier. I wouldn’t catch glimpses of him on the farm, I wouldn’t hear his voice, or see his smile. I could only remember what it felt like to be in his arms, like I was right now, as I waited out our separation and looked toward the future with the man I loved.
With the weathered photograph firmly in my grasp, I rip the bedroom door open and march into the kitchen. My old roommate and the first person I met upon moving to this city, Michelle, halts her incessant banging on the side of the faulty coffee pot when I thrust the photograph under her nose. “Where did this come from?”
“I—I don’t . . .” Her eyes dart between the photo and me.
“Did someone come here, looking for me?” I prompt her.
Her eyes drift over my shoulder in thought. “I almost forgot about that,” she murmurs to herself before nodding at the photo. “I’m pretty sure this was him. He said—”
“No, it couldn’t be him,” I stammer. The blood rushes from my extremities to my head, leaving me cold everywhere except my burning face and ears. “You must be mistaken. What did he say his name was?”
I expect her to say Mitch. It’s the only name that makes sense, the only name that is possible. I still feel the pang of disappointment when it’s not another name that comes out her mouth—a name I haven’t spoken out loud in two years.
“I think he said his name was . . . Mitch? Something like that.”
“What did he say he wanted?” I squeak.
“He said he needed to talk to you about his brother,” Michelle answers.
Her eyes soften, and I suspect that Mitch told her more about my past than I ever did in the four months I knew her. Damn him. But what could have been so important that he came here, looking for me, over a year after—
I shake my head against the thoughts I can’t allow myself to have. I’ve conditioned myself to not have them anymore. It’s the only way I’ve managed to get through the days.
I slip the photograph into my pocket, and do my best to pretend that I’m not extremely frazzled by it. Later, I can puzzle over the mystery surrounding the photograph.
First, why did Mitch leave it behind in my room? Secondly, how did he have it?
I saw his brother take it, the day he left. The picture should have been gone, along with him.
Ben left for basic training a week after graduation. He was gone for a long two months, and I jumped at the chance to drive to Georgia with his mama and Mitch to pick him up the day after he completed his training. His hair was shorter, his arms were bigger, and his shoulders had broadened, but the grin on his face when he saw me was the same grin I’d fallen in love with.
We had six days before he had to leave for the next phase in his training. Six days to get our fill of kisses and stolen moments. We didn’t waste any time.
The spontaneous game of musical beds we engaged in at the hotel near Fort Benning had been worthwhile at two a.m. Though I spent a fair amount of time confirming that Ben’s abs were significantly more defined than they already had been, the whole thing was certainly innocent in terms of intentions.
“I just want to be with you. Only for a little while,” he had told me. It hadn’t taken much for him to convince me. My hand in his, he’d guided me through the
door connecting the room I shared with his mother to the one he shared with Mitch.
Thirty minutes had turned into an hour. An hour into two hours.
We drifted off to sleep, and woke to Ms. Sawyer’s scowling face hovering over us while Mitch howled with laugher from the other side of the room. Of course, Ben took the bulk of the blame, but the damage had been done.
Fortunately, Ms. Sawyer didn’t rat me out to Ma when we made it back to Stone Creek later that day, but she did threaten to keep a closer eye on Ben and me from then on. Which was fairly often since I’d taken on a waitressing job at The Pit alongside her, and Ben spent many hours there keeping me company between customers.
“So, you’ll swing by later?” I asked him now as I slid a plate of cheese-smothered fries across the bar to him.
Aside from him, and old Mr. Pebbles a few seats over, the diner was empty. The adjacent arcade currently provided mid-afternoon entertainment to a few grade school kids. The gorgeous summer day offered much more enticing options this uneventful Monday afternoon. Later, I would get my chance to enjoy it. Two hours from now, once my shift ended.
“Yeah.” Ben shoved a handful of fries in his mouth. He responded to my wrinkled nose with a grin. “Mitch wants me to go to New Bern with him. I’ll come by after we get back.”
The bell above the door chimed, announcing the entrance of two more customers. I gathered menus from under the counter as they settled into a table by the window.
“What’s in New Bern?” I asked.
“Who knows?” Ben shrugged. “He claims it’s a surprise.”
“Better not be like the last surprise,” I muttered.
The thick stack of magazines featuring mostly naked women Mitch had unceremoniously tossed into Ben’s lap within five minutes of getting home two days ago had been unexpected. Mitch’s flippant shrug had punched home his “a year is a lot longer than you think” explanation.
Ben looked up from his plate of fries. The wary look on his face suggested that he hadn’t yet considered the wide range of possibilities that Mitch could offer under the umbrella description of “surprise.”
I offered him a smile as I edged around the corner of the bar with the menus. “Go. Have fun with your brother. Just don’t have too much fun.”
Ben left ten minutes later with a topped-off stomach and a promise to come see me the moment he got back. Two hours later, I walked home twenty bucks richer. Normally, I would have taken advantage of the driver’s license I’d recently been granted and my powers of persuasion to convince Pop to let me drive the Pontiac.
This morning, Ma had told me that Pop needed the car for a doctor’s appointment, so I was left without a ride. The house was empty when I got home. A note pinned to the fridge informed me that Ma had gone with Pop to the city, and it would likely be late before they got back. Jeffrey was staying at a friend’s house for the night, and Ms. Sawyer had graciously offered to have me over for dinner.
Her note ended with a stern, Do NOT be home late.
I doubted Ma would be terribly strict with her punishments, considering Ben was leaving again in a few days, but I didn’t want to chance it. I’d be sure to be home before curfew tonight, and every night this week. Dinner at the Sawyers’ should be a safe choice with limited opportunity for causing trouble.
Ben and Mitch showed up while I was changing out of my work uniform. I heard them before I saw them. The low rumble of the truck engine, audible through my open bedroom window, announced their arrival moments ahead of the dirt cloud left in their wake.
As I stepped outside to greet them, my gaze settled on the sunflower-yellow Camaro parked in the drive beside the familiar red truck. Mitch sat behind the wheel, a contagious grin on his face as he leaned out the open window.
I darted a questioning glance at Ben as he climbed out of the truck. “I take it this was the surprise?”
“For him,” Ben muttered.
“I’m the one with the fancy new job, baby brother!” Mitch slid a pair of sunglasses onto his nose before revving the engine to drown out any response from Ben. With a wave, he put the car in reverse and backed out onto the road while Ben and I watched.
Once the deafening roar of the engine faded, Ben turned to me with a shrug. “Bastard didn’t even let me sit in it.”
“Fancy new job?” I probed.
“You didn’t hear?” Ben slung an arm over my shoulders as he steered me toward the truck’s passenger side door. “After he finished up the last few jobs for your Pop, he got hired by Baer and Ross Construction.”
“The guys building on the coast?”
Ben nodded. “He’s making good cash, and can help Mama out while I’m gone, so . . .”
“He can splurge on a new car if he wants one?”
“He needs something to get him to work. Mama will use the truck while I’m gone.” Ben opened the door wide, but stopped me before I could climb in. Backed up against the soft seat, I held still while his lips brushed across my cheek, then captured my mouth for a deliciously slow, but short, kiss.
“I’m going to get on with them if I get a leave after AIT,” he told me, “and, hopefully, I’ll have a good job waiting for me when I get back.”
I stiffened at his casual use of the term AIT, code for Advanced Infantry Training. While he now regularly used the military lingo with minimal disdain, I still cringed. Despite the unpleasant reminder of what was to come, I put on a smile. “That would be awesome.”
“Should be able to save up some money, between my GI advance and working for B&R, before I leave.” There was an indecipherable intensity in his eyes as they held mine. His mouth opened as if he had something to add, then snapped shut. Finally, he chuckled, “Maybe I can buy myself a new car, and rub it in Mitch’s face.”
That wasn’t what he’d planned to say. I knew it, but the spooked look in his eyes prevented me from pressing him. Instead, I complained jokingly, “You can’t get rid of your truck.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. There’s much better things to spend my money on.” He grinned, and nodded at the open door behind me. “Come on. I hear we’re treating you to dinner tonight, and I’m starving.”
On the drive to his house, Ben switched back into his normal self, and I decided not to ask him about what he’d been too afraid to say. Over the course of the evening, I forgot all about it. Between Mitch’s antics, the amusing interaction between brothers, and Ms. Sawyer’s near-constant reprimands, thirty minutes passed with more laughter than eating.
Afterwards, Mitch retreated to the porch with a six-pack of beer while Ben and I climbed into the truck I’d started to affectionately refer to as “Old Red.”
At the end of the driveway, I twisted in my seat to face Ben. “I don’t want to go home yet.”
Ben took one hand off the wheel to glance at his watch. “What time do you have to be back?”
“Curfew is at eleven,” I offered.
“So we have about two hours . . .” His thumbs drummed the wheel as his mouth twisted in contemplation.
“Where would you normally take a date that wasn’t ready for the night to end?” The bundle of nerves in my stomach caused my subtle suggestion to vibrate off my tongue. Ben’s head whipped toward me, and I returned his slightly wide-eyed stare with as much composure as I could muster—which wasn’t much. “We can go there. For a little while. If you want.”
Under his surprised gaze, uncertainty crept in. Maybe I was being too rash. Maybe I’d mistaken the slow and steady advancement in our physical relationship to mean more than than he did. Maybe he didn’t want to take the next step, as I did.
Finally, he turned out of his driveway and started in the opposite direction of my house. Though he still hadn’t said anything, I relaxed into my seat at knowing that he, too, wasn’t ready for me to go home yet. He pulled out onto the main road, then continued past the entrance to the school before pulling onto a narrow dirt road. Only then did I know where he was taking us.
The
river. More precisely, the rocky bluff that overlooked the river. Now deserted in the absence of a party, I found it surprisingly tranquil. Other than the muffled sound of tires crunching over gravel, the inside of the truck was silent.
I heard myself breathing, and made a conscious effort to breathe quieter. That resulted in a disorienting case of dizziness by the time Ben put the truck in park. I resisted the urge to lean my forehead against the window and gulp up the oxygen my brain needed. Not when I felt Ben’s eyes on me.
“Ana?”
Suddenly too nervous to look at him, I took in the impressive view through the windshield. The half-moon was bright in the clear, star-studded sky, and reflected off the smooth, dark surface of the water with striking clarity.
“It’s really amazing from up here, isn’t it?” I heard myself asking.
“Ana . . .” Ben slid across the seat, inching closer to me. His fingers grazed the hand clenched at my side, and my head instinctively tipped toward him. With my chin down, I watched his fingers thread through mine. I softened under the brush of his lips across my temple.
“Come here . . .” With gentle pressure on my waist, he guided me toward him as he reclined back in the seat. Before my leg lifted to swing over his, I froze.
“I’m wearing a dress.”
One side of his mouth quirked up. “I’m well aware of that. I’ve been aware of that all evening.” He gripped my bare knee and pulled it across him until I was settled on his lap. I’d been in this position a few times before, but never in a dress. He eased my anxiety with a lazy grin, and promised, “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, Ana. But I think . . . maybe . . . you wouldn’t mind if I did this . . .”
With his hand cupping the back of my neck, he guided my head down until our lips met. He took the lead right out of the gate—pulling me, pushing me, bending me wherever he wanted me—while I settled in to enjoy the ride. My hands gripped his shoulders so tightly I was sure I left behind marks.
We settled into a rhythm of deep, explorative kisses broken up by soft caresses. As I relaxed into him, my hands wandered across his chest, finding the buttons of his shirt. After some fumbling, I managed to undo them all. I pushed the fabric off his shoulders, and broke our kiss so that I could soak him in.
What Comes Next Page 21
