Now and Again

by Rothert, Brenda

  “No, I can understand that.” The cocky swagger was gone, and his eyes were filled with concern. “Does anyone come to mind who would do this as a joke? An ex-boyfriend, maybe?”

  “No. I gave up on dating almost seven months ago.”

  “Gave up?”

  “Yeah. I haven’t so much as looked at a man since last Christmas.”

  Ben’s eyes twinkled for a second as he looked back at the letter. “I’ll see if we can get some prints from this. If we can, I’ll need to take yours for comparison.”

  Layla sighed as she stared at the stark white wall. “I know there’s not much you can do.”

  “Do you live alone?” he asked.

  “Yes. Just me and my dog.”

  “Do you have locks on all the windows and deadbolts on the doors?”

  “I have a deadbolt,” she said. “I’m not sure about the windows.”

  “Well, I’m about out of here anyway. Why don’t I come by and take a look? Just to see if your place is secure and if there’s anything we can do to maybe give you more peace of mind.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s Saturday and I’m sure you want to get home to your family.”

  “I’m single,” he said. “I don’t mind at all.”

  “Oh.” She was puzzled, her eyes darting unconsciously to the picture behind him. Ben followed her glance, smiling.

  “That’s my sister and my nephews,” he said, grinning. “Come on, Miss Carson, I don’t bite.”

  “Okay, sergeant,” she said softly. “But call me Layla.”

  “Alright, Layla, I’ll follow you home. And it’s Ben.”

  ***

  When he saw Layla looking resigned as she sat on her front step with her arms wrapped around her legs, Ben felt a tug. The confident woman who’d walked into his office the first two times now looked apprehensive and sad.

  He’d followed her home, and now she was waiting for him while he parked because she didn’t want to go in alone. That was probably tough for a woman as independent as she seemed.

  “Hey, nice place,” he said as he walked up. “How long have you been here?”

  “A year and a half,” she said as she rose. “I like it here.”

  He followed her through the door, taking advantage of his chance to admire her tight, curved ass. Her body was incredible; he’d noticed that the first time he’d seen her. She was tall, with round, firm tits, long legs and hips he was dying to wrap his hands around.

  “I need to go get my dog from my neighbors. He may bark a little,” she said, glancing over her shoulder as she stuck the key in the door. “He’s not used to men being here.”

  That’s a good thing, Ben thought as he studied the curve of her neck. Her hair was pulled back in a thick, wavy ponytail.

  She knocked on the door across from hers and a hound dog came barreling out as soon as he heard her voice, the hair on his back standing up when he saw Ben. He growled at Ben as Layla picked him up, reaching to open her door.

  “Hey, let me go in first,” he said, his hand covering hers on the door knob. She jolted a little, and he figured she must be scared. He wanted to reach out and touch her back, maybe run his hand up to her neck, but that was inappropriate. She took a shaky breath as she stepped back, allowing him to go in first.

  The apartment was bright, with high ceilings and modern furniture. He saw a dark purple sofa and a square glass coffee table before the bark of the dog who was now at his heels caught his attention.

  “Prince,” Layla said from behind Ben. “It’s okay, baby.”

  “Hey,” Ben said, bending down to pet the dog’s back. “Hey, buddy.”

  He scratched Prince’s ears and soon his tail was wagging contentedly.

  “He’s not much of a guard dog,” Layla said, smiling.

  “I expected you to have a fluffy dog you could carry around in your purse,” Ben said, standing back up. Layla wrinkled her face with dismay.

  “You’re saying you think I’m superficial,” she said. “I found Prince under a bridge when I was in law school. He was dirty and skinny and he stole my heart. We’ve been together since.”

  Ben studied the dog’s gleaming coat and purple jeweled collar. He sure wasn’t dirty and skinny anymore. If anything, Prince needed to lose a couple pounds.

  “Looks like he has it good now,” he said, petting Prince again when he jumped up. “And I don’t think you’re superficial. I think you’re feminine, and that’s not a bad thing.”

  He warmed at the slight flush on her cheeks. God damn, she was pretty. Not run of the mill pretty, either. She had a bright white smile with dimples and huge, dark eyes framed with long lashes. But he hadn’t come here to hit on her.

  “Just stay with me while I look everything over,” he said. He made his way into a small, modern kitchen, which didn’t look like it got much use. The counters were bare except for a coffee pot and a glass container of dog treats. A vase of wildflowers decorated the kitchen table.

  “I wasn’t expecting anyone, so things may not be all that clean,” Layla said as they left the kitchen. Ben opened a closet and saw a few coats and long dresses, along with several shelves of shoes.

  When they walked into her bedroom, he took note of her unmade queen size bed, with a white down comforter and pink satin sheets twisted together at the base. He pictured Layla sleeping there, her long legs bare on top of the sheets.

  Stop. You can’t get a hard on right now, she’ll be so creeped out by it. Think about her dog, or work or your taxes. Anything but that bed.

  He looked across the room and saw clothes littering the floor. His eyes went right to a skimpy pair of red panties that he pictured her sliding down her tight ass and tanned legs.

  Fuck. That’s not helping.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, sounding embarrassed behind him. “There hasn’t been anyone but me in my bedroom for the longest time.”

  “It’s not that messy, really,” he said, stepping into the closet, where he eyed racks of clothes and rows of shoes and quickly adjusted himself. “Looks like you’re kind of into shoes.”

  “A little,” she said.

  He led the way out of the bedroom and into the black and white bathroom, where a large counter was spread with makeup, perfume, curling irons and hair styling products. Ben took in the fresh, powdery smell, wondering if that was what she smelled like up close. He went to the shower and pulled away the curtain, finding nothing but several bottles of shampoo, conditioner and body wash. Another wave of something fresh and sweet hit him, and he tried to banish the image of Layla in the shower, naked.

  “So, you’re good,” he said. Layla led the way back into the living room, with Prince hot on her heels. “I’m just gonna check all your windows real quick, okay?”

  Ben made sure all the locks were secure before wandering back into the living room, where Layla leaned against the back of the couch.

  “Thanks,” she said. “I’m sure this is no big deal. I’ll just be extra careful.”

  “You should. Keep all your doors and windows locked and don’t go out by yourself after dark if you can avoid it. I’ll have third shift patrol the building and keep an eye out.”

  “Okay. I really do appreciate you coming over, especially on a Saturday.”

  “It’s no problem,” he said. “Hey, I’m heading to O’Malley’s, this pub where all the cops hang out. You want to come with? Get some dinner?”

  “Um … that sounds good. I need to take a shower and change, can I meet you there?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “You know the place? Not far from the station?”

  “I do.”

  “Okay.” He glanced at his watch. “Meet up around six?”

  “Sure.”

  “You’re locking this when I leave, right?” he said, gesturing to the door.

  “Yeah.” She smiled, and Ben wished he wasn’t leaving.

  God, that smile. She’s fucking gorgeous. I may need to get a
little more familiar with that bed tonight.

  ***

  Her heels clicked efficiently against the sidewalk, and Layla prayed silently as she walked that Emma would answer the phone. They didn’t talk as much as they used to, but tonight, she needed the reassurance of her sister’s voice.

  “Hey,” Emma said warmly. “How are you?”

  “Hi, I’m good. Are you busy?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, so I’m walking to this pub to meet up with this guy, and I’m wearing my really dark skinny jeans and that light gray sleeveless top that’s kind of low cut? You know the one?” Layla asked nervously.

  “Yeah, that looks great on you,” Emma said. “And heels, I presume?”

  “Yes. I want to look good, but not like I’m trying to get laid. What do you think?”

  “Are you trying to get laid?”

  “No,” Layla said emphatically. “I don’t miss one-night stands at all. They’re like ice cream – great in the moment but full of regret afterwards.”

  “That outfit looks great on you,” Emma said. “Who’s the guy?”

  “Oh, just this guy I met through work. I like him, but he’s hot, and I’ve sworn off of hot guys.”

  “You want a guy who’s not hot?” Emma sounded amused.

  “No, I just … I struck out every time I based things on attraction. I want someone smart and settled and secure. So I’m here, and I have to go in now.”

  “Have a good time,” Emma said. “And call me later if you want to talk.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” Layla squared her shoulders as she hung up and walked into O’Malley’s. Even at six, there was a crowd, and she saw heads turning her way. The sight of Ben’s broad back at the bar created a flutter in her chest as she approached. He wore jeans and a black t-shirt, and it reminded her that they were both here because they wanted to be, not because of their jobs. The thought gave her a jolt of nervous excitement.

  “Hi,” she said as she approached him.

  “Hey, you made it.” He turned and she took in a breath she couldn’t seem to let out. The sleeves of the t-shirt were taut over his large biceps, and the ends of a tattoo snaked out from under one sleeve. As she slid onto the stool next to him, she leaned close and picked up on the warm scent of fresh-cut wood that radiated from him.

  “I did,” she said, suddenly nervous.

  “You look beautiful.” He took a pull from a bottle of dark beer, and Layla felt herself flushing as his gaze roved over her face and down to her chest.

  “Thank you,” she said, smiling.

  “I got us a table if you want to--” He gestured across the pub at an empty booth.

  “Yes, that sounds good.” She followed him across the pub, noting the way he commanded every woman’s attention without even trying. There was something about him – mostly his size and self assurance -- that Layla found as captivating as they all did.

  She had cut back significantly on drinking this year, and Layla found she was lightheaded after just one Malibu and pineapple. Ben was asking about her high school, college and law school days, and she was loosening up quickly. Hopefully not too quickly.

  “I want to know more about you,” she said, clinking the ice in her empty glass. “You’re so mysterious.”

  “How am I mysterious?” he asked, grinning.

  “You just are. You’re all tall and hot and … mysterious. Tell me some embarrassing stories about you.”

  “First let’s talk about you thinking I’m hot.”

  Layla rolled her eyes. “I mean it, tell me something about yourself.”

  “Well, I grew up in Chicago and went into the Marine Corps after high school. Did five years, went to college, and now I’m a cop.”

  “I have so many questions,” Layla said. “Start with the Marines. You totally look like one, by the way.”

  “Really, how do Marines look?”

  “Sexy. Intense.” She covered her face with a hand, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, can you tell I don’t drink much?”

  The waitress delivered two more drinks, and Layla sipped hers gratefully.

  “I really just did it to pay for college, but it turned out to be a life-changing experience,” Ben said. “I did time in the Middle East. Made some lifelong friends.”

  His face changed, looking more closed off, and Layla knew she shouldn’t ask him to elaborate further.

  “And college? You knew you wanted to be a police officer, or did you decide there?” she asked.

  “No, I knew. Just went straight through and got my Masters so I won’t have to be running traffic when I’m 50.”

  “And you like it?” she asked.

  “I do. It suits me. Just like being a lawyer suits you.”

  “Oh, so you’ve got me all figured out now?” she said, grinning.

  “Pretty much.” His eyes twinkled playfully.

  “Enlighten me, Ben. What am I like?”

  “You’re the kind of girl who makes a list about her perfect man, and it has things like ‘dreamy’ and ‘sweet’ on it, and I bet every ‘i’ is dotted with a heart.”

  Layla was only taken aback for a second. “How do you know my list doesn’t have ‘big cock’ and ‘filthy mouth’ on it?” she said, raising her brows at Ben. His lips parted in surprise.

  “Does it?” he asked, his gaze darkening a shade.

  “Fuck yes.”

  His eyes widened as he blew out a deep exhale. “It’s a little warm in here,” he said. “It seems to get that way every time I’m with you.”

  Layla’s pulse was thundering and she felt the warm, wet sensation between her legs that she’d been missing for so long. She didn’t know whether to be annoyed or relieved when their food arrived.

  She ate half of her salmon, but by the time she finished her third drink, Layla couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything anymore. She laughed at everything Ben said, even though he wasn’t trying to be funny.

  “You’re wasted, and I’m driving you home,” he said when she finally got through a fit of giggles.

  “You had more drinks than I did!” Layla whined indignantly, getting up from her seat.

  “Yeah, but I’m 6’5” and I weigh 240. Don’t take another step toward that door … Give me your goddamn keys or I’ll take them from you.”

  “No!”

  “Layla.” Ben ran a hand over his face, agitated. “You know you’re not fit to drive. Come on.”

  “If you come home with me …” her voice shook with emotion, “ … I’ll sleep with you, and I don’t want to. I mean, I do want to, but I don’t. You’ll think I’m a slut and I’ll never see you again and I really like you.”

  “Hey,” Ben said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “There’s no way I’d do that when you’re drunk. I just want to make sure you get home safe. Will you let me do that?”

  Layla nodded, sniffling as emotions swam through her foggy mind. She sifted through her purse for the keys, handing them over. Ben waved at two men at the bar, who hustled over to him.

  “Yeah, Sarge?” one of them said.

  “You guys good to drive?” Ben asked. They both nodded.

  “You need to take her car home. One of you follow. I’ll show you which one it is.”

  Layla thought of something funny, but she couldn’t remember what it was. She laughed about forgetting it, doubling over and stumbling.

  “All right,” Ben said, reaching for her waist. “Come on.”

  He reached around the back of her legs and picked her up, carrying her across the crowded bar.

  “You’re all so jealous of me!” Layla laughed. “Sergeant Montrose is taking me home and you’re all jealous! Because he’s so hot. You really are, you know.” She looked into his face seriously. “You make me all wet.”

  Ben smiled and shook his head. “You’re not gonna make this easy, are you? Nothing’s easy with you.”

  “I’m easy!” Layla sang. “I am! Seriously. I’ll blow you on the way home if you want.”
r />   The two men walking behind them snickered and Ben shot them a dirty look.

  “She’s drunk, she doesn’t know what she’s saying,” he said. “That red car across the street. Follow me there.”

  Layla gazed up at him as he carried her to his car. He helped her into the front seat and she gripped his shoulders, pulling him toward her.

  “Kiss me,” she said.

  “Not now,” he said. “Not like this.”

  She growled with dismay as he closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. He started the car and the sound of the engine was all Layla heard.

  “I really like you,” she said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve really liked anyone. And I’m ruining it.”

  “No, you’re not,” he said. “You just drank too much, Layla. It happens. I’ll put you to bed and you won’t even remember this tomorrow.”

  She sighed, starting to feel small waves of nausea.

  Breathe. Just think about breathing, and whatever you do, don’t throw up in his car.

  “Why did I drink so much?” she asked.

  “I should’ve stopped you,” Ben said. The car came to a halt and he walked around it, lifting her out of the passenger seat. Layla wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself against him tightly.

  “You smell so good,” she said. Ben sat her down gently.

  “Let’s find the key,” he said.

  “It’s on my key ring,” she mumbled. A few seconds later, one of the men from the bar ran up to the front door with the keys.

  “Thanks,” Ben said. “Layla, which one is it?”

  “It’s the key-shaped one,” she said, laughing. Ben shook his head, testing a couple keys before finding the right one and opening the door. Once they were in the small lobby, he found the key to her apartment quickly, locking it behind him. He picked Layla back up, carrying her to the bedroom.

  She sighed happily as she felt the familiar comfort of her bed beneath her. Ben fumbled with the straps on her shoes and tossed them to the floor.