“I was just grabbing lunch.”
“Do you want me to speak to you later?” She started to move and he laid his hand on her knee.
“No, Cara. I won’t starve. And thank you for the apology.” Yet he wasn’t sure he was completely ready to overlook what she’d said. His gut still ached and his pride was hurt.
“I want to make it up to you. How can I?” Hope bombarded her pale eyes.
“You really don’t have to. You’ve apologized.”
“Come to the treehouse later.”
“I don’t know…”
“You don’t want to come?” She chewed at the corner of her mouth and her eyes were filled with moisture.
“Yes, I want to, but I don’t want you to feel obligated.” He was only making things worse, he realized.
“It’s not obligation. I want to see you.” She laid her hand on his thigh and the material of his jeans didn’t protect his skin from the scorching heat.
“Okay.” He couldn’t have turned her down if he’d tried—and that’s what made her dangerous. She had a grip on his heart and if he wasn’t careful he’d lose it to her—if he hadn’t already.
What the hell was he doing? Something about her, in her eyes, had snagged him the moment he saw her and wasn’t releasing him any time soon. The hold had grown stronger and more obvious. The more he got of her, the more he wanted.
He wanted to tell her everything. About his sister’s death and even his thoughts of leaving Nirvana. Ben had gotten word that afternoon that Chase had wanted to speak to him. Ben believed he was going to get his ass chewed out, maybe even fired, for his relationship with Cara. Would Chase understand that Ben cared for her? He couldn’t stay at Nirvana, especially now that he realized what he was missing.
And those were his thoughts when he stood in the shower that evening, allowing the hot spray to pulsate on his tense shoulders, hoping the tightness would ease.
He’d been edgy since Cara had walked away that afternoon and left him puddling in his confused thoughts.
Ben leaned his hands on the cold ceramic wall and inhaled sharply. Adrenaline spiked his blood and he thought he could run a mile in under six minutes. His nerves were whacked and his heart was in trouble—big trouble. Rolling his neck from side-to-side, he rubbed the muscles until they finally eased.
Never before had he felt this way—revved up and ready for whatever life had to send his way.
He wanted Cara to understand him better, to get him. He hoped she’d see that working at Nirvana was only a layer of who he was. He had a feeling she would understand him better than anyone. Since his sister’s death he hadn’t allowed anyone close enough to see the real, true Ben. Sure, he talked to several of the fellas, but never about his life back home. Would they believe he was a church-going, God-fearing, cream of the crop boy?
He smiled. They’d laugh.
Dipping his head under the stream, steam surrounded him and the water felt good. But he had somewhere to be and a pretty lady waiting on him.
Turning off the knobs, he stepped out and grabbed a towel. Rubbing his hair first, making a quick path down his damp body, he didn’t care if he missed several spots.
Strolling over to his dresser, he started to pull out a pair of worn jeans, but he pushed them back inside the drawer. Instead, he reached for the dark denims, a pair he hadn’t worn but a few times. He even chose his best shirt, a long-sleeved button down with pearl buttons. He didn’t get dressed up often and by all means, he wasn’t fancy, but for him this was dressy.
Hearing his phone beep from the nightstand, he pulled on the jeans and shirt then went to check the notifications. He had three missed texts from his dad.
Your mom and I are wondering how you’re doing. Please call.
Ben exhaled slowly. He hadn’t talked to either of his parents for at least three months. When he did call he was overwhelmed with guilt, not because they made him feel that way, but because it had become a part of his character. He had a feeling if his mom and dad would be truthful, they’d blame him too for the death of their teen daughter.
He gritted his teeth, sucking back a tirade of emotion. It had been his fault. She was only fourteen. She shouldn’t have been riding alone. If only…
If he could propel himself back in a time machine, he would. Hell, he’d give his own life for his sister’s. At times, it felt like she wasn’t the only one who’d lost her life. Ben hadn’t done much living since he’d found her.
Tears came to his eyes and one fell to his cheek. He swiped it away.
Happiness had eluded him. But lately, he’d felt joy—all because of a petite brunette who had no clue how wonderful she was, or how beautiful.
Ben realized that the crew thought he was getting too close. When he’d walked back into the dining lodge that afternoon, all eyes had been on him, some giving him that tell-tale look. They had rules among them. Don’t get close to the lodgers. To keep a steel wall up at all times, even against the beautiful, sweet ones.
There had been beautiful lodgers before, no doubt. Women who’d thrown themselves uninhibitedly at him and he hadn’t felt any emotion scratching the surface, except for the itch in his jeans.
But Cara batted her eyes and he was on all fours, wagging his tail and waiting for a bone.
The men also pointed something out to him that here lately, he’d stopped calling the lodgers ‘heartbreaks’. Yeah, and once he’d thought about it, he knew it was true. Not that he, or any of them, had meant anything disrespectful to the visitors. Ben just didn’t like referring to Cara as a heartbreak. It contained a lot of insinuation that the visitors were broken, and Cara wasn’t broken. Only hurt and scared. Sure, some of the women passing through Nirvana were broken. Like Sicily, for instance. She was shattered inside and took her misery out on anyone and everyone. She didn’t want to get better, and she certainly wanted to control men. Ben guessed it was her way of not getting hurt again. He understood, but he also found it sad.
He didn’t find Cara sad. He found her pleasingly strong and courageous. Whatever her scars were, he had a feeling she’d survived a lot. More than she was willing to confess. At least not yet. Tonight he hoped they could talk about the past—and maybe the future. He’d come to realize, probably even before Cara, that his heart wasn’t in Nirvana any longer. He planned to give Chase his resignation. Ben didn’t have the bounce in his step like he did before…at least he didn’t until recently when Cara came to the ranch.
He started to ignore the message, but instead picked up his phone and typed…
Heading out the door. Hope all is well.
He knew it wasn’t what his dad wanted to hear, but for now it would suffice.
Tonight he needed to concentrate on Cara. He was anxious to see her.
Chapter Eleven
“I don’t think you should come in.” Cara stood at the door, peeking through the three-inch gap. Ben stood on the other side with a wide grin.
“Let me get this straight. You don’t want me to come in because you still smell like skunk?”
“Yes.”
“But I don’t care, Cara.” He shook his head and rubbed his chin.
“But I do,” she whined, not caring how she sounded. She’d tried taking two more showers and used tomato juice she’d found in the cabinet. Nothing worked.
“If you’ll let me come in, I’ll help. I know the secret remedy for skunk spray.” He then shot her a smile that targeted all resistance.
“I already tried tomatoes and juice.”
“That stuff doesn’t work. I know the real cure.”
Maybe there was hope after all. She pushed the door wider and he came in. “I hope you can.” He passed her and left his scent behind—soap and leather, a lethal combination. The man was dreamy.
“Don’t start doubting me again.” He winked and he gave his trademark cocky grin. He had a big ego, but his big heart counterbalanced it. “Let me rummage through your supplies and see what we have.”
While he was bent under her cabinet, she watched, shamelessly. She’d never seen him in the dark jeans before and they fit his butt like a wrapper on candy. She wanted to swat his behind, but placed her hand in her lap instead. There would be no hanky panky until the smell was gone from her skin.
She’d watch and daydream for now.
A man like Ben would have all the girls swooning. Dark hair, sky-blue eyes, and a smile that could rock the world on its axis…and tonight, he was hers—if she could manage to remove the skunk smell.
Leave it to one bad-behaving skunk to ruin her plans.
Ben would save the day. She crossed her fingers—and her toes for good measure.
Her core muscles tightened at the prospect of having Ben naked in her bed and deep inside of her. Mm-hmm. She missed him.
She wondered if he’d missed her too.
“Okay-dokey. I think we have all that we need.” He stood, arms cradling several bottles of household cleaning supplies.
“I thought you were going to help me, not clean the treehouse.” She frowned and laid her head down on the table. “It’s hopeless. It’s going to take days to fade.”
“Hold your horses, darlin’.” He set the containers on the counter. He searched the pantry for something, moving canned goods, pushing items around the shelf. “There we are.” He took out a box of baking soda and shook it. “And it’s full. Soda, lemon juice, dish liquid and a splash of bleach are miracle fixers.” He grabbed a bowl from the cabinet.
“I thought I was going to have to shave off the top layer of my skin,” she groaned.
“With your rosy hue, it looks like you stopped just short of removing skin.” He winked. “Don’t feel bad, sweetheart. We’ve all been sprayed at Nirvana, some two and three times. Thankfully, Motley came along and gave us the secret treatment.”
She looked at the concoction, wrinkling her nose. “Anything is worth a try. At this point, I’d bathe in deer urine if I thought it’d help. Baking soda and dish detergent are a great alternative.”
“Much better choice. Now, get undressed,” he demanded.
She smiled, couldn’t help herself. “I was hoping I’d hear those words.” She wagged her brows.
“Trust me, this will be more painful for me than you. I guarantee it,” he admitted.
Self-consciousness at a minimum since he’d seen every inch of her, and licked most spots. She boldly removed her shirt and shorts, down to her matching red bra and panties. “Is this good?” She tilted one hip.
“I hope I don’t have to remove my jeans, too, otherwise, we’ll both be covered in this goo.” His voice was playful and full of promise.
“Now I like the way this is headed.” She had come so far in such a short time. She never would have voiced those thoughts to James, and she’d never had the same feelings with him. Maybe her brazenness was because Ben made her feel free enough to say and do anything. He helped her move forward while James had held her back, for his own needs, of course.
He dipped his fingers in the gooey mix and wiped it on her skin. It was cold, but the heat rising in her core warmed every inch of her body. She had to remind herself that she couldn’t jump his bones until she smelled less like a critter and more like a woman.
While he concentrated on her body, she followed the lines of his face, slowly moving her gaze over his chest and the open buttons of his shirt. She liked the chords in his neck and his olive complexion. It contrasted with the white and pale blue color of his shirt—that also brought out the blue in his eyes. Unconsciously, she moistened her lips and sighed.
She moaned when his fingers brushed her inner thighs. He grinned. Their gazes met, meeting his eyes and all of the warmth she saw there. Her heart beat so fast she grew a little weak.
He worked his way downward and, when his face loomed within inches of her secret spot, tingles shot to her lower belly. It didn’t work to keep her heart beat under control when other parts of her were spiraling down blood pressure rise valley. Nope, her body had a mind of its own.
She turned her eyes to his broad shoulders as he worked. The shirt stretched like a second skin. Yes, he filled out the shirt quite nicely. She licked her lips and sighed. He looked up at her and she smiled.
“Now, to the back.” He moved around her body.
His fingers moved on her flesh, slowly, lingering a little longer on the waistband of her panties. Her breathing had become ragged and her senses were on high alert. Her nipples were hard and tight and she had a strong urge to massage them, but kept her hands planted at her sides.
Soon, she hoped his hands would be on her for another reason besides skunk.
When he finished, he took the bowl to the sink and rinsed out the remaining mix. “We should let that dry.”
Cara stood statue still, staring at him. The silence between them grew thick and tense. He was quiet, in a way she’d never known before. The air between them was electrically charged. She felt there was something he needed to say, but debated if he should.
She breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly. She wanted him, and God help her, she would be forever changed.
****
Ben was having a hard time breathing. His cock was paralyzed in erect mode since she’d stripped down to her bra and matching thong. He didn’t have a clue she owned sexy lingerie, but he wouldn’t complain.
That same feeling as he’d felt the first time he’d seen her naked returned, but tenfold. Everything disappeared around him---his world, his past, his future—and all that existed was Cara.
He was weak in her presence. That he realized long ago. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever had the pleasure of touching. He could get used to her being in his life, and that was a revelation for him.
“Glass of wine?” she asked as she pulled on a robe.
“Sure.” He wasn’t sure why he was so uncomfortable. He’d always been calm and collected in situations.
She poured two glasses and handed him one. He drank half of it in one gulp. “Ben, you seem nervous. Is something wrong?”
“Are we okay after today?”
“I overreacted. I don’t want to use my past as an excuse, and you already know, trust isn’t so easy for me.”
“Looks like you’re dry enough. It needs rinsed,” he said. “How about we take care of that and then we can talk.”
“Okay, I’ll go down—”
He picked her up into his arms and headed toward the back door.
“Ben,” her voice was breathless. “What are you doing? You’re going to get this stuff all over you.”
“I don’t care. It’ll wash.” He effortlessly carried her through the door, down the steps to the open shower and set her down on the outside. “I always finish what I start.”
She blinked. “That’s a loaded statement.”
“You betcha.” He tuned on the water, adjusted the temperature. “It’s all ready, sweetheart.” He unclasped her bra for her. She slid her panties down her long legs and he salivated. Clearing his throat, he said, “Go ahead and get started, but save room for me.”
He quickly pulled off his clothes, hearing seams rip in the process. He joined her under the stream. Steam rolled up around them, enveloping them in a warm cloud as he pulled her naked body closer.
“You are something, Ben. I can’t quite explain it.” She looked up at him, her eyes dazzling in the overhead light, her bottom lip trembling.
“I want to make you mine. Every inch. Every part of you.” He swallowed hard.
She leaned into him, her hands gripping his shoulders, her cheeks pink from the warmth of the water. “How did we get here?”
“One step at a time.” He pushed her wet hair away from her cheek. “You don’t have anything on the stove that we should be worried about burning do you? I smelled something delicious and we could be in here awhile.”
“I have the timer set but we should have a good twenty minutes.” Her voice cracked.
“Not enough time for me to take you to a place wher
e you will forget your own name, but enough that I can wash your sweet body.” He reached for the tallest bottle, checked to make sure it was shampoo, and poured a dollop into his palm. “I’ve never washed a woman’s hair before, but I’m willing to give it a try. Turn for me, darlin’.” She did as he requested and he lathered her long hair. He was engulfed with coconut.
She rested her head on her shoulder and a moan escaped her throat. “I must be hitting the spot,” he whispered in her ear.
“More than one, I assure you.”
“Now to rinse.” He was careful to keep the soap from running into her eyes as he rubbed her hair to make sure he removed all of the shampoo. He poured body wash onto his hand. He started at her shoulders, massaging them, the soap a lubricant, helping him slide across her wet skin. Her muscles loosened under his touch and he’d barely gotten started.
She leaned forward against the wall of the shower as he moved his hands lower, to the long, slender line of her back. Her hands pushed further up the wall and the smooth chords of her muscles tightened slightly under his palms.
Moving his hands around to her front, he cupped her breasts in his soapy hands, rolling the tips of his thumbs over her hardened nipples, using the soap to his advantage as he swirled and flicked. She moaned louder and her tight bottom moved over his thighs. His cock twitched, but he wouldn’t take things too fast. Tonight he wanted to make love to her.
Rinsing one hand, he then slipped his fingers over her firm buttocks and eased between her legs, finding the nub tucked between her moist lips. She stuck out her hips, angling so that he had better access to her most sensitive part. “I want that pussy to cream for me,” he urged.
She rolled her hips, thrusts them, pumping his hand. He rewarded her by slipping his middle finger deep inside of her, swirling the digit around the pulsating muscles. He continued rubbing her clit with his thumb and followed the rhythm of her body until a deep, wild moan floated from her.
He turned off the water, wrapped her in a towel and carried her up the stairs while she snuggled deep into his arms.
Ropin' Trouble (Cowboys of Nirvana Book 2) Page 14
