Your Forever Love (The Bennett Family #3)

by Layla Hagen

  “Don’t worry. They look good on you.”

  “Our polish dried, honey,” she tells Julie. “Seems like the label wasn’t lying. It does dry fast.”

  “Can we watch a movie?” Julie asks, making full use of the doe-eyed expression she knows I can’t fight.

  Pippa replies before I even open my mouth. “If we start now, it’s going to get too late. Isn’t it bedtime for you?”

  I watch Pippa with renewed admiration. She’s better at resisting Julie’s charms than I am.

  My daughter wrinkles her nose. “I suppose it is.”

  “Ms. Blackwell should be here any minute now. She’ll—”

  As if on cue, the front door opens and Ms. Blackwell steps inside the house.

  “Time for bed, Julie,” she says in her usual no-nonsense voice. She greets Pippa, frowning slightly as she takes in her clothes, but doesn’t comment on it.

  Julie sighs, then goes to her room.

  “I have to call a cab,” Pippa says. “I didn’t come here with my car.”

  “I’ll give you a ride home,” I tell her, employing a tone that breaches no argument. Usually.

  She dismisses my words with a wave. “Nonsense. I’ll be fine with a cab.”

  “Yeah, but I’ll need those clothes back.” I actually don’t need them, but it’s as good an excuse as any. I want to spend more time with her.

  “Ms. Blackwell is here. Maybe I can borrow some clothes from her?”

  “I’d need to bring those back to her too,” I say.

  “You’re right.” She takes a deep breath, rolling her shoulders. “Okay, let’s go.”

  Spending time with her turns into spending time next to her. Pippa falls asleep in the car within five minutes of typing her address into the navigator. As I drive, a faint wheezing sound fills the car. It takes me about two seconds to realize the sound comes from Pippa. Tiny snores. I chuckle and, in a stroke of genius, whip out my phone and record the silly sound. Ah, this will be excellent blackmail material. I’m not sure when I’ll need it, but it’s good to have it.

  She wakes up before we arrive, yawning. Then she sees me, and she startles in her seat.

  “I’m sorry I fell asleep,” she said. She’s very cute with her frazzled hair and I-just-woke-up eyes. And just like that, I wonder what it’s like to wake up next to her in the morning. No idea where the desire comes from, but this seems to be a recurrent theme with Pippa. She creates in me the longing for things I haven’t wanted—or searched for—in years. She makes me want to live again.

  “Did I say something inappropriate while I was asleep?” she asks in a shy voice. Ah, so she’s a sleep talker… and all I got were snores. No reason for her to know that, though.

  Deciding to tease her, I say, “You might have professed your love for me.”

  She narrows her eyes in suspicion.

  “There was definitely something about my muscles in your mumbling.”

  “You’re so full of shit.” She chuckles, but the tips of her ears are red. Aha. The cat’s out of the bag now.

  “Are you telling me that you dubbed me tall, dark, and handsome, and you haven’t fantasized about me?”

  “Alice dubbed you.”

  “You didn’t contradict her.” I park the car in front of her building, but we don’t move from our seats.

  Pippa sighs, shifting in her seat. “Why are you suddenly so flirty?”

  I hesitate for a second, then decide to be straightforward. “I overheard your conversation with Julie.”

  “Wow, so eavesdropping is one of your superpowers,” she says with a smile. “I can’t believe Julie thinks you’re incapable of asking someone on a date.”

  “Yeah. My plan for her to believe I’m a monk worked too well, apparently. Time to change that.”

  “Eric… I’m still….” Her words fade. After a few beats of silence, she continues in a small voice, “I mean, you know all my baggage.”

  I cup her cheek with my hand and look her directly in the eye. “We both have baggage. So what? We’re strong enough to carry it. If not, we’ll hire a bellhop or buy a forklift. I want to learn everything there is to know about you.”

  “That’s a big goal,” she whispers.

  “We’ll start small. I want to make you smile.”

  “It’s been a long time since someone whose last name isn’t Bennett had this goal,” she says sadly.

  “I can assure you that I’m up for the task.”

  She licks her lips, the corners of her lips lifting in a smile. “So, your daughter’s blessing was all it took for you to change your mind?”

  “Maybe.” I drop my voice to a whisper to give it a more conspiratorial feel. “Or maybe you’re irresistible.”

  She chuckles, pulling back. “In these clothes?”

  “Especially in them. I mean it. Seeing you in my clothes does things to me.”

  “Let’s go upstairs.” Her voice is low and husky. “So I can change and give them back to you.”

  When we enter her building, the doorman greets us, jerking his head back as he sees Pippa.

  In the elevator, Pippa mutters, “Great. Now the doorman thinks I’m doing the walk of shame.”

  “Well, you should be ashamed. You directed both of us into the pool.”

  She blushes violently, probably remembering my out-of-control rambling. Pippa lives on the eleventh floor in a spacious condo with a generous view of San Francisco.

  “So, this is my lair,” she says proudly. “Sorry about the mess. I wasn’t expecting guests.”

  There are sketches everywhere.

  “You’ve transformed it to a workshop?”

  She shrugs. “I take my work home often.”

  Leaning against the living room doorframe, I observe her as she picks up sketches from the floor. “I have a proposition for you.”

  She straightens up, clutching the pile of sketches to herself. “Let’s hear it.”

  “Obviously, neither of us is ready for a date yet. Julie’s more ready for the two of us to date than we are.” I laugh, remembering my daughter’s words. “So let’s go on another nondate.”

  “You’re persistent.” She winks at me. “I’m that irresistible, huh?”

  I walk up to her until there are just inches between us. “Maybe neither of us is ready, but we can take a risk and see where that leads us.”

  Pippa’s expression is unreadable for a few long moments, before she breaks into a beam. “Can we preemptively bring a bellboy to our nondate?”

  “I’m not sure. He might witness some very inappropriate things. A forklift would be safer.”

  Pippa hugs her sketches tightly to her chest and swallows hard. The sound nearly undoes me. “What will we be doing on our nondate?”

  “I can’t tell for sure but expect kissing. A lot of kissing.” I lean closer to her, caressing the side of her neck. “I’m not telling you where.”

  She swallows hard. “I’ll go change.”

  “No need. Keep my clothes. It was a ruse. I wanted to spend more time with you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll leave you for tonight.”

  With that, I turn around and leave her apartment, wondering all the way to my car what the hell I’m getting into. My phone beeps with an incoming message the second I climb in the driver’s seat.

  Pippa: I’ll sleep in your shirt tonight.

  Eric: Is that all you’ll be doing?

  Knowing she’s naked underneath my shirt makes it hard to concentrate on driving. I’m jealous of my own fucking shirt. Fantastic.

  Pippa: There will be touching. A lot of touching. I’m not telling you where.

  Chapter Ten

  Pippa

  I wake up with a big smile the next morning and remain under my covers for a few minutes. I slept in Eric’s shirt. It’s soft and light, the only downside being that it doesn’t smell like him. Still, wearing it feels as if he slept next
to me. There was a shift between us yesterday, and I can’t define it or what to make of it. All I know is that while part of me is still afraid of moving forward, another part wants to dream and hope again.

  I hug my pillow and decide to text the man responsible for my renewed hopefulness. To my astonishment, I find he texted me already.

  Eric: I’ve found the perfect place for our nondate.

  Pippa: You’re fast.

  My phone buzzes with an incoming message within seconds.

  Eric: I stayed up late last night researching.

  Ah, I can gauge a lot of teasing potential from this sentence alone.

  Pippa: Had trouble falling asleep?

  Eric: Nah. Just had to wait for my balls to go back to normal. They were blue after I read a certain message last night.

  Giggling, I type as fast as I can.

  Pippa: You asked for it. So, where are we going?

  Eric: I’m not telling you. It’ll be a surprise. You’ll love it.

  Pippa: That’s a cocky statement.

  Eric: Please. My romance skills might be rusty, but I’ve still got game. Still deciding what size the forklift should be, though. Between the two of us, we can probably do with a large one.

  I fiddle with my phone in my hands, debating what I should write back. I love talking to him. Maybe it’s because he’s so open with me, but I don’t feel the need to keep up the bravado when I’m with him. Eric puts me at ease with nothing more than a smile and a few words, but I don’t want gloom to hang over our date.

  Pippa: No forklift needed. I want us to have fun.

  Eric: You sure? I can bring a tiny one.

  Pippa: No need. Besides, tiny never does the job. Haven’t you heard? Size does matter.

  I get no answer for one whole minute—I count the seconds—and I’m wondering if there’s anything inappropriate happening on his side of the line.

  Eric: STOP the dirty talk right now, or I’ll start with the blue you-know-what again.

  Ah, definitely inappropriate. I bite my lip, wishing more than ever that he could be here with me right now.

  Pippa: You’re going all bossy on me. It’s sexy.

  Eric: You haven’t seen anything yet. Wait until our nondate. Any chance I’ll see you at the gym before then? I’ll stop by later today. There’ll be plenty of opportunities for you to stare at me.

  Pippa: Are you selling your body? You’re cheap, Callahan.

  Eric: Merely interested in your general health and well-being.

  For a fraction of a second, I debate going to the gym just to ogle him again, but not even the perfection that is his ass is worth all the sweat and muscle cramps.

  Pippa: Doubt it. I have a full day with Alice today and a lot of work next week. Not sure if I’ll make it to the gym at all.

  Eric: That’s a long-winded way of saying you’re too lazy to work out.

  He nailed it, of course. What a waste of letters. There’s no way I’ll admit it, though.

  Pippa: Get over yourself, Callahan. Got to go.

  I put the phone back on the nightstand and grudgingly get out of bed to start my day. I’m grinning like an idiot the entire time I get ready to meet Alice. There’s something to be said about flirting upon waking up. It fills me with an infectious energy, and I love it.

  Alice and I have our hands full at the charity center, but of course, my sister manages to question me about Eric. I have bestowed my butting-in ability on both of my sisters. Summer usually joins us, but she couldn’t make it today.

  “What do you mean, a nondate?” Alice inquires while we’re on a break and sitting on a bench outside “You’ve said that before, and I still don’t get it. What is that?”

  “The term used by two people who aren’t emotionally prepared for a date,” I explain, soaking in the sun.

  “By the looks of your grin, you’re hormonally prepared for one. I bet he is too. So, where is he taking you?” Alice asks.

  I shrug. “He wouldn’t say.”

  “Oh, you’ve got to love a man who knows how to keep you on your toes.”

  “You have no idea,” I murmur.

  ***

  When I get back home, the doorman tells me there was a delivery for me, which awaits me in the foyer. To my astonishment, I find a large bouquet of roses there. Beaming like an idiot, I take the flowers and step into the elevator. I text Eric as soon as I step inside my apartment.

  Pippa: From cookies to flowers? That’s an interesting change of tactics.

  My phone rings right away.

  “I thought about sending cookies along with them, but I have a hunch you would’ve ignored the flowers,” Eric says without further ado.

  I’m grinning so much I’m genuinely afraid I might pull a muscle in my face.

  “You’re a smart man,” I answer. “Sweets versus flowers? The flowers never stand a chance.”

  “Looking forward to Saturday?” Eric asks.

  Sitting on my couch, I press the phone to my ear. “Why don’t you tell me where we’re going?”

  “That’s the purpose of a surprise,” he says in an amused tone.

  “But I’m not good with surprises. I mean, I’m excellent at organizing them for everyone else, but—”

  “It’s time someone planned one for you. Relax. Let me woo you, Pippa. Stop fighting it so much.”

  His amused tone sends my heart into overdrive, and my stomach flips in excitement. It’s been a long time since I felt as giddy as a schoolgirl for an upcoming date.

  “That’s a lot of effort for a nondate,” I remark.

  “You deserve it.”

  “Can I get some clues at least?”

  “Don’t be impatient.”

  “Can I have a tiny one now? I’ll even take clues in Eric code-language like the one you used in the pool.”

  A groan resounds from the other end of the line. “I’m never going to live that down, will I?”

  “Not if I have a say in it.” And behold, I’m grinning like an idiot again.

  “I’ve got to go, but I can’t wait to see you on Saturday,” he whispers.

  “Me too.”

  ***

  Saturday morning, my alarm clock rings at eight o’clock sharp. Amazingly, the usual sleepiness that plagues me in the mornings is not present. Instead, I feel as full of energy as if I’d drunk three coffees already. Who knew? The antidote to morning grogginess is a nondate with Eric.

  I have four hours until he picks me up, which gives me plenty of time to go through several of my trusted beauty routines. My stomach rumbles the entire time I prepare, and sweat breaks out on my palms in regular intervals. I can’t believe I’m having first-date jitters.

  I remember Alice’s words. You’re hormonally prepared for a date. Truer words were never spoken. Every nerve in my body is alive with need and anticipation. At twelve o’clock, my doorbell rings. Taking a deep breath, I open the door. I’m rocking this outfit—a light pink sundress—so there’s no reason to be nervous. He said I should go for casual, which I did. If casual also includes high heels.

  When I see him, my face instantaneously cracks into a grin.

  “Someone’s happy to see me,” Eric remarks. He wears a white polo shirt and black jeans, looking yummy.

  I hold my thumb and forefinger very close together. “A little bit.”

  He chuckles when he sees my shoes.

  “Do not mock my shoes,” I say in a warning tone. I place my hand on my hips, emphasizing my words with a glare.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. Let’s go.”

  He takes my hand, leading me to the elevator without any further words. I’m giddy with happiness all the way to the car.

  Eric opens the door for me, but I don’t climb in my seat right away.

  I place a kiss on the corner of his mouth, whispering, “We’re going to have a lot of fun today.”

  “We are. Per your instructions, I didn’t bring a forklift.”

  “Great. Forget the forklift and concen
trate on the cobweb remover.” I look suggestively under his belt, and when I snap my gaze back up, his eyes are dark and hooded.

  “I’d never thought I’d use the words ‘cobweb remover’ and ‘forklift’ on a nondate. You’re an interesting woman. Now, get in the car, or I’ll take you upstairs and we won’t come out for a few days.”

  I exhale sharply, the sensuality of his words nearly undoing me. Swallowing hard, I obey, climbing in the car.

  Eric joins me and I pout as soon as he guns the engine. “Please give me a hint where we’re going at least.”

  He’s sneaking glances at me, so I bat my eyelashes in an attempt to soften him up.

  “Nope.”

  “Is there any way I can convince you to tell me where we’re going?”

  He shakes his head, smiling. “I might be bribed into it.”

  “By?”

  “A peek at the lovely skin under that dress.”

  My mouth forms an O. “Eric Callahan! Are you asking me to strip in your car?”

  “Absolutely. A peek at one thigh, and I’ll give you a clue. If I get to see both of them, I’ll tell you the location right away.”

  “You’re asking me to strip and negotiating? You’ve got balls.”

  He lets out a small groan at the back of his throat. “Right, I changed my mind. No more balls or striptease talk, or we won’t make it to the date at all.”

  “Should I take it as a challenge?” I ask, feeling naughty.

  “Please don’t. I’m trying to be a man of honor here.”

  We talk about Julie and my family for the better part of the drive, and after about an hour, he pulls off the highway. Ten minutes later, he pulls into the parking lot of a small harbor.

  “Ah,” I exclaim, as understanding dawns on me. “Are we going out on a boat?”

  Eric turns to me. “Come on. Let’s get down to business.”

  I lick my lips, his words igniting a spark deep inside me. “You have a dirty mind.”

  “You turn my words into innuendos, and I’m the one with the dirty mind?”

  “This coming from the man who wanted to bribe me with clues to strip in his car?”

  “I’ve got my weak moments,” he says with a shrug. “Come on. Let’s go. Our nondate officially begins.”