by Skye Taylor
Table of Contents
Other Titles by Skye Taylor from Bell Bridge Books
Loving Ben
Copyright
Loving Ben
Please visit these websites for more information about Skye Taylor
About the Author
In Loving Meg, Book Two of The Camerons of Tide’s Way series, Meg and Ben Cameron struggle with the post-traumatic stress she suffers after a tour of duty in the Middle East. Their love for each other is tested as Meg can’t stop blaming herself for a tragedy and a battlefield temptation she never expected. Trying to adjust to a quiet life as a wife and mother to two small boys in laidback Tide’s Way, North Carolina, feels impossible. And when Ben takes a traumatized police dog into his kennel’s training program, it brings back even more painful memories of the incident that haunts Meg. Maybe her only hope of finding herself is to re-enlist and go back to the brotherhood of warriors.
It’s up to Ben to change her mind.
In Loving Ben, eighteen-year-old Meg decides it’s time to let Ben know that she’s not a kid anymore and that she’s loved him as long as she’s known him. She could swear the attractive college man—her brother’s best friend—has been looking at her in a different way lately, but she may be letting her imagination run wild.
This future Marine is going to put on makeup and a dress, step into some high heels, and let Ben Cameron know he shouldn’t treat her like a kid sister anymore.
Other Titles by Skye Taylor
from Bell Bridge Books
The Camerons of Tide’s Way Series
Book 1: Falling for Zoe
Book 2: Loving Meg
Book 3: Trusting Will
Tide’s Way Short Stories
Loving Ben
The Wager
(coming soon)
Loving Ben
A Tide’s Way Short Story
by
Skye Taylor
Bell Rabbit Books
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), events or locations is entirely coincidental.
Belle Rabbit Books
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Memphis, TN 38130
Ebook ISBN: 978-1-61194-604-8
Belle Rabbit Books is an imprint of BelleBooks, Inc.
Copyright © 2015 by Skye Taylor
Printed and bound in the United States of America.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.
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Cover design: Deborah Smith
Interior design: Hank Smith
Photo/Art credits:
Background (manipulated) © Konstik | Dreamstime.com
Couple On Beach (manipulated)© Artem Rastorguev | Dreamstime.com
Anchor © Natis76 | Dreamstime.com
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Loving Ben
MEG GRANT STEPPED out of the shower and briskly dried her hair. Done, she looked into the mirror and frowned at her tumble of dusky curls, dark eyes, and short stature. Not Ben’s type, huh? We’ll see about that. Today!
She had been in love with Ben Cameron for almost as long as she’d known him, but Ben was her big brother CJ’s best friend and five years her senior. While she was still a kid, he was an adult.
She and Ben had become friends when Ben bought a classic, old Mustang and parked it in CJ’s auto shop where he could restore it in his free time, between college and a part-time job. From the battered desk in the corner where Meg had gotten into the habit of doing her homework, she’d watched him work. Besides his skill at restoration, everything fascinated her about the tall, blond man with the big smile who talked to her as if she were his peer.
Sometimes, she would catch Ben watching her, too, with an indecipherable look in his sky blue eyes. She’d become familiar with the tingling vibe that filled the air between them whenever their eyes met, and she’d hold her breath until he looked away.
CJ claimed Ben was into tall, blue-eyed blonds, and Meg had to admit, she’d never seen Ben with anyone who didn’t fit that description. But short and dark could be just as desirable, and tonight she was going to prove it. Today was her eighteenth birthday. Today she was a woman. A woman on a mission. And her mission was to prove CJ wrong.
Meg pulled the towel around her and headed to her bedroom. Laid out across her bed was a brand new pair of sparkly sandals and the dress she’d bought specifically to catch Ben’s attention. A strapless sundress with a scooped neckline meant to entice. Meant to make sure Ben knew she was old enough to know what she wanted. And that what she wanted was him.
She picked up her hair dryer and turned it on. With firm, even strokes, she brushed the tangles and frizz into a shining curtain. She couldn’t change her eyes and wasn’t sure she wanted to go so far as to change the color of her hair, but she could make it straight and silky. She left just a few come-hither curls to frame her face and then moved on to the makeup.
Another challenge. She wasn’t into makeup and didn’t have a lot of practice, but tonight was special. Besides, every single one of those leggy blonds that CJ pointed out as Ben-types had worn plenty of the stuff. Meg had to be careful, though. Too much and she’d look like a caricature. A little mascara would make her eyes seem bigger and her lashes sexier. She definitely needed sexier. She added a hint of shimmery liner and a touch of pink for her lips. She studied the effect and thought again of Ben. And his type.
A week ago, a woman Meg had never met had come into CJ’s garage looking for Ben. She could have been a runway model with those silky, ash-colored tresses clear down to her butt, shorts that highlighted impossibly long legs, and pouty, bright red lips. Ben had come in a few minutes later, spoken briefly to the woman, but then sent her on her way before hurrying to screw the new license plate onto the Mustang he’d spent so many years laboring over. And it had been Meg he’d invited to share the first ride in his pride and joy.
She had teased him about it. With her heart hammering anxiously, she’d asked him why he hadn’t invited his “girlfriend” to go for a ride instead. Ben had told her friends came first. She’d enjoyed the ride and every moment spent in Ben’s company, but hanging over her enjoyment was the possibility that CJ was right. Short and dark were not Ben’s type. Ben hadn’t refuted Meg’s assumption that the blond was his girlfriend.
Meg had tried flirting with Ben, but it had never gained her more than just a smile. Appreciative smiles at times. She had a nice body, and she had noticed Ben checking her out more than once, but he’d never given her any reason to hope that their relationship might become something more than friendship.
Maybe it was CJ’s fault. He was a little overprotective, and maybe he had some objection to his friend taking that kind of interest in his kid sister. A few weeks back, when Meg still didn’t have a date to her senior prom, she had hinted at asking Ben to escort her. CJ had scoffed. She was just a kid, and Ben was a man. Like she didn’t know that already. But before she got up the courage to approach Ben, CJ had engineer
ed an invite from another friend’s kid brother.
What a disaster that had been! Not that there was anything wrong with Mike Kennedy. Mike was ripped and very good-looking. He was gentle and smart with a fun sense of humor, too. But they had nothing in common.
Meg was into hunting and guns and basketball and cars. Mike was president of the National Honor Society, a member of the math and chess clubs, and spoke three languages. She hung out in her brother’s auto mechanic shop. He hung out in online workshops and seminars.
Mike had been a surprisingly good dancer, though, and Meg might have had a far better time if only she had been able to stop wishing it was Ben holding her in his arms and swaying to the slow music. In between dances, they just hadn’t known what to talk about. The silences had gotten progressively more awkward.
When Mike had walked her to her door at the end of the evening, he’d kissed her good-night. He’d been good at that, too, and she had unexpectedly enjoyed being kissed by him. She had clung to his shoulders and leaned into him, kissing him back. But there had been no fireworks.
Ben had never kissed her except for a peck on her cheek like the kind she got from CJ and Stu. But she was sure there would be a whole sky full of fireworks if Ben ever kissed her like she was his type of woman. She thought of the model with the bright red lips. Had Ben kissed her?
Meg hunted through the bag of makeup she’d borrowed from her friend Margie and found a tube of cherry red lipstick. With careful determination, she layered it on, pressed her lips together, and checked the mirror. There! Now I have pouty, kissable lips.
She shimmied into the new dress, reached behind herself, pulled the zipper up, and then turned to check her reflection in the full length mirror mounted on the back of her bedroom door.
“That’s more like it!” she whispered, pleased with the view. The pale green fabric swished about her knees and hugged her slender waist. She drew her fingers across the bare skin exposed by the strapless neckline. Should she wear the pearls that CJ and Stu had given her for her sixteenth birthday? Or the slender chain with a heart-shaped pendant that dangled enticingly above the cleavage created by her new bra?
“Which would Ben like best?” She held up first one item then the other. A picture of the model flitted through her mind again. The model with the pouty lips and a low-cut neckline. Ben’s type. Meg put the pearls back into their velvet bag and clasped the chain around her neck.
SOMEHOW, THE night wasn’t going quite as planned. Meg was the guest of honor. After all, it was her birthday. But she’d seen very little of Ben. It was hard to attract a man’s attention when he was never around.
Surprisingly, Mike had showed up in spite of the way things had gone at the prom. He brought her a lovely pair of earrings as a gift, but they left her feeling embarrassed and guilty. Embarrassed because the gift seemed too personal and guilty because Meg turned down his invitation to spend the following day with him at the beach.
He took it well, though, and a tiny part of her wished she hadn’t been in love with someone else. Maybe they could have found some common ground if she’d given him a chance. She liked him, but after today, Meg didn’t expect to ever see Mike again. She was joining the Marine reserves and heading off to boot camp before returning to Tide’s Way to attend the nearby junior college between training weekends. Mike had been accepted to Harvard. While she was learning how to do push-ups by the hundreds and getting yelled at by drill sergeants, Mike would be lifeguarding at the beach or getting a head start on his textbooks for the fall. They came from totally different worlds, and they were headed in opposite directions. Meg walked out to his car with him when the birthday party began to break up. He kissed her again, but it felt more like he’d done it because a handshake didn’t seem right. She wished him luck and watched him drive away.
Finally she turned and headed back up the walk. And saw Ben watching her.
He wasn’t alone. He was sitting on the porch railing listening to something his twin brother, Will, was saying. Clinging to his arm was a stunningly beautiful blond woman. Just Ben’s type.
Meg knew who she was, but she’d thought the woman had married some journalist from New York and moved out of Tide’s Way. Yet here she was, hanging on Ben’s arm as if she owned him.
Meg hesitated, not sure if she should approach the trio or go back into the house and sulk. Most of the guests had gone. CJ was in the kitchen helping his wife clean up. Stu came out with the box holding Meg’s gifts tucked under his arm. “I’ll drop these at Mom’s for you. Sure you don’t need a ride?”
Meg’s last chance to get Ben alone depended on begging him for a ride home. “I’m good.” She tiptoed to give her brother a kiss. “Better get a move on. I think your lady friend is getting a little impatient. Meg jerked her head in the direction of the redhead who’d come out of the house with Stu and now stood tapping her toe next to his car. Stu grinned, kissed Meg on the cheek, and hurried to his car.
That left just Ben and his brother and the blond.
And now Meg had only a few minutes left to achieve the one thing she’d promised herself she was going to do on her birthday. On the day she turned eighteen.
Will gave Ben a high five and headed in Meg’s direction. He brought the blond with him. The woman didn’t look too happy.
“Happy Birthday, Meg. And good luck this summer. You’ll probably need more than luck though. Only the few, the proud, and the tough get by, or so I’m told.” Will Cameron wrapped his arm around Meg’s shoulder and gave her a half-hug. “I gotta run. I’m on duty in less than twenty minutes.” He put his patrolman’s cap on his head and one hand under the blond’s elbow. “Just enough time to drop you home on my way by,” he told the woman.
When Meg turned back, Ben was collecting empty beer cans. She approached him with her heart hammering madly in her chest. He stopped what he was doing and turned to her, his hands full of empties and a frown furrowing his brow.
“Um . . .” Meg cleared her throat and tried again. “I—I was wondering if you could give me a ride home?”
“What happened to Mike? I kinda thought you’d be leaving with him.”
Meg shook her head but said nothing. Mike had offered to drive her home, but she’d turned him down same as Stu.
Ben’s frown disappeared, and his brow smoothed. “Just let me take these out to the kitchen and say goodnight to CJ and Sarah.”
Meg waited on the porch. Her heart jumped around inside her as if it were a wild animal. All the planning and thinking about this night had not prepared her for the actual doing.
It’s just Ben, she reminded herself. I’ve known him forever. We’re friends. We talk all the time. About everything under the sun.
He’d shared his dreams for the future and the kennel he wanted to own someday. He’d moaned about exams. College and studying were not his favorite things in life.
She’d asked his advice about her career choice and the option of getting college paid for by joining the Marines. They’d talked about dogs, the stars, hunting, basketball, politics, their faith, and how it fit into their lives. They’d talked about everything.
Except how they felt about each other.
Ben returned from saying his goodbyes. “You headed straight home?”
Meg glanced up at him as she stepped off the porch and onto the path leading toward the driveway. “I figured—” she sucked in a desperate lung full of air. “Where else would I be going?”
“Oh, I don’t know. It’s just that a girl doesn’t turn eighteen every day. And it seems like far too nice a night to end so early.” He opened the passenger door of his precious Mustang for her.
She slid into the familiar seat. She’d ridden in the Mustang before. But never with this many butterflies waging war in her stomach. Ben shut her door and walked around to the driver’s side. He folded his lanky frame into
the leather seat with a sigh and put the key in the ignition.
“You want to go for a walk on the beach? There’s a full moon coming up. It’ll be the perfect ending for your special day.”
Meg nodded, not trusting her voice.
The powerful engine purred along as the car carried them toward the beach road, headlights slicing through the darkness like a hot knife through butter. Ben fiddled with the radio and found a station he liked. The sexy, heady voice of Clay Aiken filled the car, echoing the emotions filling Meg’s head and heart.
This is the Night. This had to be the night. Meg had just four weeks before she left for boot camp. Four weeks to prove she could be his type of woman. Four weeks before her life took her in a direction that might never give her another chance to tell Ben how she felt.
Ben pulled the car into the little parking lot behind the dunes and turned the engine off. Clay’s voice died with the smooth rumble of the engine. They sat in the silence without moving. Meg glanced at Ben and caught him looking at her. The whites of his eyes glistened in the light cast by the newly risen moon, but his thoughts were hidden.
After a moment, he reached for the door. The dome light came on. “Beat you to the beach,” Ben said, as he dropped his left foot to the ground and began to slip from the car.
Meg bolted from the car and dashed past the anchor guarding the path through the dunes. She was fast, but he was taller. With longer legs. He caught up with her before she reached the beach, but stopped and let her step out of the dunes ahead of him.
“You let me win,” she gasped, breathless from more than just her dash for the beach. She couldn’t believe she was here, in this incredibly romantic place, alone with Ben. On her eighteenth birthday. The birthday that was supposed to change everything between them.
