Easy Nights (Boudreaux #6)

by Kristen Proby

  Sometimes, a girl just needs to punch something. It’s been as valuable as therapy. For the first year, I pretended I was punching Lance in the face. But now, I’m just punching, protecting myself, getting out some major aggression.

  “Better, Van,” Shelly says with a nod.

  We spend the next hour learning new strikes, and going over the ones we already know. Sometimes I’m the aggressor, and other times I’m defending myself.

  It’s a fucking amazing workout. My body is screaming at me when the class is over.

  “Great job today, everyone. I’ll see you next week.” Shelly smiles and hugs each of us as we leave the classroom. Shelly also came to Krav Maga about ten years ago after she’d been horribly abused by her ex-husband.

  She gets it.

  “Van.”

  I spin at the sound of Ben’s voice, and silently cringe. I look horrible. I’m sweating like an ice cold drink without a coaster, and the clothes I wear here are skin tight, making it easier to move.

  “You’re not usually here at this time,” I say and dab a towel on my face. “What’s up?”

  “I had a meeting with another instructor,” he says with a smile. “Thought I’d say hi.”

  “Hi.” I smile and readjust my ponytail. It’s much smaller now, but I can still pull it back. “How was your day?”

  “Busy,” he replies and surprises me by letting his eyes travel up and down my body. “I like the new hair. You look great.”

  “I’m a mess.” I chuckle and hook my towel around my shoulders. “You, however, do look great.”

  That’s a fucking understatement. He’s in cargo shorts and a black tank top, showing off his tattoos and his muscles.

  Good lord, the muscles.

  “Can I show you a few things?” he asks, breaking my concentration on his muscles.

  “Sure.” I frown as I follow him back into the empty classroom. “Am I doing something wrong?”

  “No, I just want to go over some form things.” He leads me to the center of the room and stands behind me, looking into my eyes through the mirror.

  Oh God. This is way sexier than it probably should be.

  “Assume the stance.”

  I follow his directions and work very hard to not react to his strong hands on my sides as he walks me through punches, kicks, and better ways to keep my center of gravity.

  “You’re small,” he murmurs and pushes my legs just a little closer together. “I want you to keep your feet just a little closer together. You’ll have better balance.”

  I nod. “It feels better.”

  He smiles at me. I can’t keep my eyes off of him in the mirror. The way he moves, his facial expressions.

  Ben has always been attractive to me, but holy shit, did he get hotter? Or was I just too broken before to see it?

  Because holy shit, he’s hot.

  “Van?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I just asked you to do the spin/elbow move.”

  “Oh.” I bite my lip and will myself to stop ogling his arms.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Of course.” I do as he asks and spin, attempting to ram my elbow in his nose, the way I’ve been taught, but he blocks and sends me onto my ass. “Damn it.”

  “You’re not spinning quickly enough.”

  “I’m as clumsy as they get,” I remind him. “If I spin too fast, I’ll fall on my ass. I’ll be helping my attacker more than anything.”

  “It’ll actually feel easier,” he says, helping me to my feet. “You can do this. I’ve seen it.”

  “You’re taller than anyone else I’ve ever sparred with.”

  “Good,” he says and narrows his eyes. “Chances are, if you ever have to defend yourself, your attacker won’t be shorter than you.”

  “True.” I nod thoughtfully.

  “But if you’re still not comfortable doing this with me, that’s fine. I can make suggestions for Shelly to work on next week.”

  “I’m okay,” I reply, and am surprised to realize that it’s true. It wasn’t long ago that I couldn’t stand for any man to touch me, not even my brothers. But I don’t mind so much now.

  In fact, I’m utterly shocked to realize that his touch is turning me on. I don’t remember the last time I had sexual thoughts toward a man. Even Ben. Which was one more thing that made me sad.

  But hello, long lost hormones.

  I wonder if I’m still capable of flirting…

  “I can totally do this.”

  “Of course you can,” he says and assumes the stance, waiting for me to hit him.

  Or try.

  “You know, you should wear more tank tops,” I say casually. “Your arms are ridiculously hot.”

  I spin, faster this time, and actually hit him in the nose with my elbow.

  Hard.

  So hard, in fact, that he’s bleeding.

  “Oh God.” I stare at him in horror as he covers his nose. “Oh, Ben, I’m so sorry.”

  He looks…stunned.

  “That’s much better,” he says. “Damn, that hurt.”

  “You’re bleeding.”

  “It’s not the first time.”

  And then, to my fascination, he whips his tank top off in the one-armed way that sexy men do, and presses it to his nose.

  But now I can see almost all of him, and I swear, I just started to salivate.

  “Wow,” I breathe, not able to hide the way my eyes eat him alive from head to toe.

  He doesn’t just have sleeve tattoos. No, apparently that’s just not sexy enough. He has a tat on his ribs, and one on the opposite side, down by that sexy V that travels down under the waistband of his shorts.

  “You distracted me,” he says. His voice is different now. Rough.

  “I did?” I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ben distracted.

  “You flirted with me, and that hasn’t happened in a while.”

  “Well, if the end result is you whipping your shirt off, I’ll do it all the time.”

  He frowns, and I realize I’ve just crossed the line. He’s my brothers’ best friend, idiot.

  I shake my head. “Sorry. Really. Won’t happen again.”

  “It’s okay,” he says. “But I think I need to put some ice on this.”

  “Come to my place,” I blurt out, not at all coy. “You can ice it and I’ll feed you. It’s the least I can do. I have gumbo in the slow cooker.”

  He looks hesitant. I’m an idiot. I took it too far.

  “Really, I’ll keep my hands to myself, and I won’t flirt.”

  “Well, where’s the fun in that?” He winks at me. “I’ll follow you there.”

  “Okay.” I grin and grab my things. Ben has been to my house before, but never by himself. He came a lot when we were in the throes of renovations to help out, which I loved. It makes me happy to know that the house I love was built by those I love.

  The trip to my place is short. I live close to the studio, and not far from Ben. He pulls into my driveway behind me and joins me on the porch.

  “It looks different from the last time I was here,” he says as I unlock the door.

  “It’s finally finished,” I say with a smile. “Come on back to the kitchen so I can get you some ice. I’m so sorry that I hit you.”

  “Don’t be,” he says. “You were supposed to hit me. And I was supposed to block you.”

  “I can’t believe I beat up Ben the Badass.”

  He cocks a brow as I pass him a bag of frozen peas.

  “Who?”

  I laugh and take the lid off of the gumbo to give it a stir. “You heard me. I’ve called you that for years.”

  “Never to my face.”

  “Well, no. That would be silly.” I smirk and turn to find him leaning against my kitchen counter, the peas pressed to his nose. He pulled on a T-shirt in his car, which is unfortunate because I wanted to look at him a bit more.

  “What are you thinking?” he asks.

  “That I’m hungry.”
/>
  “That’s a lie.” He checks the bag of peas and frowns at the blood. “I told you a long time ago how I feel about lying.”

  “Well, it’s the only answer you’re going to get.” I reach for bowls and scoop us both up a healthy serving. “Here you go. Do you want to sit in the dining room?”

  “I’m fine here.” He leans his hip against the counter and takes a bite, then groans in happiness. “I have always loved your gumbo.”

  Dear sweet merciful God, that groan. I automatically clench my legs together as I enjoy the pure lust running through my veins. It feels so good to be sexual again! Even if I don’t get to have sex with Ben, at least I know that part of me didn’t die.

  Although the thought of being touched by anyone else makes me break out into a cold sweat. I know Ben, and I trust him, but he’s not the right person for me. And that sucks, so maybe I’m not as healed as I thought.

  “Stop thinking so hard,” he says and reaches out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “How do you feel?”

  “Good. Things are really good these days.”

  “Good.” He nods. His nose has stopped bleeding, but it still looks swollen and uncomfortable.

  “Are you going to have a black eye?”

  “Nah.” He shakes his head. “I’ll be good as new by morning.”

  “Of course you will. You’re badass.”

  “Exactly.”

  I laugh as I take my empty bowl to the sink. I was damn hungry, but Krav always makes me hungry. I use a lot of calories during that class.

  Also, my own shoulders and arms are looking pretty muscular. Not body-builder muscular, but toned enough that I like the looks of my shoulders in a tank top, and that’s kind of fun.

  Ben joins me at the sink, and we begin to wash and dry our few dishes ourselves, rather than put them in the dishwasher.

  “Thanks for dinner,” he says as he dries the last spoon.

  “Like I said, it was the least I could do after I maimed you.”

  He chuckles, and then before I know it, he’s laughing. Big, loud laughs coming from his belly, and I can’t help but join in. We both have tears as we struggle to compose ourselves.

  “You’re a strong little thing,” he says as he catches his breath.

  “Well, I hope so. I’ve been working out for almost two years. It better be doing something.”

  “It’s working,” he replies and wipes his eyes. “The look of horror on your face was almost worth it.”

  “Don’t make me hit you again.”

  And just like that, he’s laughing again, holding on to the edge of the counter. I grin and cross my arms over my chest, watching avidly. Ben’s usually so laid back, so…calm, it’s rare to see him like this.

  And I love it.

  I rub his arm soothingly, secretly enjoying the way he feels against my hand. Finally, he takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly.

  “I think we both needed that laugh,” I say.

  “I guess so,” he replies and suddenly pulls me in for a hug. An incredible, tight hug, and then he lets go just as quickly. “I’m relieved to see you so happy.”

  “I think the whole family is,” I reply with a nod. “And I get it. But I’m so much better, Ben. I feel better than I have in more years than I can count.”

  “That’s all anyone wants.” He drags his knuckles down my cheek, sending an electrical current down my spine and arms. I bite my lip, watching his blue eyes as they travel over my face.

  He’s quiet for a long moment, but finally says, “You’re so beautiful.”

  I blink slowly, wondering if I just imagined that. He shakes his head, as if pulling himself out of a daydream and drops his hand. He walks to the table to retrieve his keys.

  “I should go.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I follow behind him as he marches to the front door.

  “Thanks for dinner.”

  He’s not looking me in the eyes now, and he’s moving quickly, like he can’t wait to be out of here.

  I never should have tried to flirt with him. I made him uncomfortable, and now he probably feels sorry for me, and the whole fucking thing is just awkward. Which is the very last thing I want between Ben and me. He’s my friend. He’s practically a part of my family.

  We can’t do awkward.

  “Thanks again,” he says and waves as he jogs down to his car. It’s a new one. I haven’t seen it before. The shiny black of the jeep suits him.

  And then he’s gone, and I’m left standing on my porch, feeling torn in half. I love him. I’ve always loved him. But this is Ben.

  So, I need to get over it. Maybe I should try to go out on a date with someone, just to see if there are any of the same twinges when I’m with someone else.

  The thought makes me a bit queasy, but I grab my phone on my way upstairs and call Kate.

  “Hello?” The baby is crying in the background. “Eli, can you please take her?”

  “It’s okay if you can’t talk,” I say immediately. “We can just text.”

  “It’s fine, she’s just fighting sleep. Eli usually has better luck getting her to sleep anyway.”

  The baby’s cries get softer as she walks away from my brother and tiny niece.

  “I want to come see the baby soon.”

  “We would love that. Okay. I’m blissfully alone. What’s up?”

  “Well, I was just thinking that maybe I should start dating.”

  Crickets.

  I pull the phone away to make sure I haven’t dropped the call.

  “Kate?”

  “I’m here,” she says. “I just… are you sure?”

  “No.” I sit in my chair with a laugh. “I’m definitely not sure, but I think I should at least try. I mean, if it doesn’t feel right, I don’t have to do it again, right?”

  “That’s true. And I absolutely love it that you’re thinking about this. It means you’re in a really good place now.”

  “Best place ever,” I confirm. “But I don’t want to date just anyone. Certainly not anyone online. I still have trust issues.”

  “Completely understandable. Hmm, let me think. We know plenty of single men.”

  “I don’t want my brothers to set me up,” I reply. “They’d either forbid it altogether, or set me up with someone’s grandpa.”

  “You’re so right,” Kate says with a laugh. “But they love you, and it’s their job to protect you.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m also a grown woman, and I don’t need my brothers to play bodyguard. I’m a badass now.”

  “Yes. You are. Okay. Let me think on it and I’ll text you.”

  “Okay. No pressure and no rush. Really. Because now that we’re talking about it, I might feel like I need to throw up.”

  “Oh, honey, that’s perfectly normal for any woman. Dating is hard work, and it’s about ninety percent bullshit.”

  “Yeah.” I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Dating sucks.”

  “Big time sucks. But there has to be at least one guy in New Orleans who is single and not a douche.”

  “Let’s not forget someone who has his shit together. Because frankly, I’m not looking to find someone I have to save or take care of. Just like I don’t need anyone to save me. He has to be a productive adult.”

  “Well, that narrows it down to just about nobody,” Kate says with a laugh. “I’m kidding.”

  “No, you’re probably right.”

  “Let me think— Wait! I know!”

  “Okay.”

  “Oh, what’s his name?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Damn it, I swear, I still have pregnancy brain where I forget everything. He works with Simon.”

  Simon is my sister, Charly’s husband. He’s a famous British motivational speaker.

  “Is he British?”

  “I think so.”

  “No.” I shake my head. “No one who lives across the ocean most of the time.”

  “It’s not like you can’t afford to go vis
it him,” Kate says, sarcasm dripping from her lips.

  “Too much effort. Think of someone else.”

  “You’re awfully picky.”

  “Damn right I am.” I grin. “Every woman should be picky. Which is why I’m so confused as to why you married my brother.”

  “I heard that,” Eli says.

  “Stop eavesdropping.”

  “I’m not, I’m just sitting right next to my beautiful bride.”

  There are kissy noises, turning my stomach.

  “Ew. Get a room.”

  “We’re in our room,” Eli says with a laugh. “I’ll find someone for you to date.”

  “No. Fuck no. Kate, tell him no.”

  “No,” Kate says. “You keep your nose out of this.”

  “She’s my sister.”

  “I’m going to hang up now,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Let me know if you think of anyone. And tell Eli to mind his own damn business.”

  “You are my business, sugar.”

  “Goodbye,” I say loudly and hang up the phone. Good God, what have I done? Now he’ll be recruiting my brothers to find me a date too.

  Damn it. I should have just kept my big mouth shut.

  I shrug and walk into my beautiful new bathroom and run a bath. I strip down and sink into the hot water, lay my head back. I’m ridiculous. Honestly, the thought of meeting a stranger and going out with him, potentially kissing and having sex with him makes me want to throw up.

  I’m not ready for that. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for that.

  Frankly, when I think of being intimate with anyone, it’s Ben. It’s always been Ben. And yes, the man is so hot he could start a fire at fifty paces. Those muscles, the tattoos, the amazing blue eyes. It’s all incredibly hot.

  But it’s what he is on the inside that pulls at me, almost more so. He’s gentle and kind, and when he smiles at me, it feels like everything in the world is just right.

  And no one, aside from my Daddy, as ever made me feel that before.

  I wonder what Dad would say about all of this. He’d have words of wisdom. I wish there was a phone line to heaven that I could call and speak to him.

  But there isn’t.

  My phone, sitting on the teak tray across my tub, pings with a text.

  It’s Ben. My heart flutters and I bite my lip as I open his message.

  I’m sorry I’m socially awkward.