by Holley Trent
“I made the fries,” Trinity said from Daisy’s left side.
“You did?”
It wasn’t that she doubted the woman, but…
Trinity shrugged and forked a chunk of beef into her mouth. “Well, I peeled them. Same thing.”
They all laughed, including Clara, who was still flitting around the kitchen poking this and that on the stove. She put one arm around Trinity’s shoulders and the other around Daisy’s and said, “What is that saying? The way to a man’s heart is, what?”
“Through his belly,” Trinity said with a slight tinge of dejection in her voice.
“Well, I don’t agree. If it were so, ik zou niet een oude heks.”
Ben rolled his eyes.
“Does that mean what I think?” Jerry asked.
“She’s putting herself down again about the Kate thing.” Ben set down his fork and crossed his arms over his chest. “Moeder, it was your choice not to move on. You could have moved on.”
Clara grumbled and took her seat.
“You make it sound like that’s such an easy thing, Ben,” Trinity balked. “I mean, come on. Put yourself in the woman’s perspective. I know that’s tough with the testosterone poisoning you’re obviously experiencing, but consider how you’d feel if over the course of a few years, you have what you think is an exclusive relationship with someone. You have a couple of kids. And every time you look at those kids they’re a reminder of how fucked up everything was. Would it be so easy for you to move on?”
Ben tilted his chair back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know. I have a hard enough time understanding how anyone could impregnate a woman and not stick around, even with the job he had. He should have been kinder. Let her off the hook. Tell her it wasn’t going to happen. I think she held out for him for so many years that at some point she just stopped waiting and stopped caring about love at all.”
Daisy pushed her chair back and the sound of the squeaking legs against the tiles made them all look at her.
She cringed. “Sorry. I…maybe I’ll just go into the living room and you all can continue your conversation.”
“Why?” Ben asked.
“Because it’s none of my business.”
The truth was that the entire conversation was making her gut roil. It wasn’t so much the dirty laundry being aired, but the fact that the boys seemed to be judging Clara for her perceived weakness. If Ben felt that way about his mother, how did he really feel about Daisy and her own illustrious failed relationship?
“Sorry,” she said, scooping her plate up from the bottom and tucking a fork into her shirt pocket.
She could feel their stares on the back of her head as she carried her food away. She’d barely gotten settled on the sofa with her plate on her lap when Trinity sank into the neighboring cushion with her own plate.
“You didn’t have to go, you know,” she said.
Daisy swirled the end of a fry through the rich gravy and gave Trinity an assessing glance.
“They wouldn’t talk about anything in front of you if they didn’t want you to know it.”
“Are they always so…open? I’m not used to that.”
Trinity shrugged. “No. I think it’s just extenuating circumstances—the three of them being together. There’s an odd dynamic.” She chuckled. “Clara’s eyebrows shoot up every time Jerry calls her ‘Mom’.”
“Why?”
“Ben says she doesn’t think she’s earned it.”
“And…you’re comfortable with the way they question her?”
“I don’t know if comfortable is the word I’d use. I’m accepting of it, I guess, but something you’ve got to understand about Ben and Clara’s bond is he’s always taken care of her as much as she’s taken care of him. He’s probably a bit harder on her than we would be, because he knows she needs it.”
“In my family, we tend to keep drama like this swept under rugs.”
Trinity leaned over and picked up the television clicker. She pushed the power button and flipped through the channels until she found the ’90s rock music station. “I think that’s the case in most families, including the Rouse-Thys bunch. Not too many people know about Clara beyond the folks at N-by-N, and my family, and…now you. The fact that Ben would drag you into this place in the midst of this is sort of unlike him, though.”
“How so?”
Trinity picked up a trio of fries and bit into them all at once. She chewed thoughtfully and said, “One way he and Jerry are really similar is in how methodical he is. He always has a plan, even if it doesn’t seem like it at the moment. He thinks ahead.”
“So, what’s his plan?”
Trinity shrugged. “Obviously you’re involved somehow. What’s going on between you two, anyway?”
Daisy set her plate on the coffee table and smoothed the wrinkles from her lap before speaking. None of the responses she had in mind sounded particularly intelligent. “I’m not exactly sure.”
“What do you want to be going on, then?”
Daisy blew out a ragged exhale. “I don’t know. I’m a bit confused by it all.”
“Do you like him?”
She laughed. Well, that was a dumb question. “Who wouldn’t?”
Trinity giggled. “I didn’t know he was your type, or else I would have formally introduced you months ago.”
“I don’t have a type. I…”
You what? He was nice to you and so you fell head over heels? Best not tell her that.
Daisy looked at the television screen and watched animated music notes scroll left to right. “Well, he’s nice to look at.”
“Don’t you give me that. I’m surprised that even came out of your mouth.”
“Why? You don’t really know me that well.” And it was true. Up until she started sleeping with Ben, she’d been in severe word conservation mode with the folks at N-by-N.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Daisy, but as far as people go, you’re simple. Your face makes the best lie detector test I’ve ever seen. Most of the time you shoot straight from the hip, but when you’re struggling, I can your turmoil in your face.” She chewed some more and stared at Daisy until Daisy’s cheeks burned.
“Yes, Ben is attractive. Lucky you. But what do you want from him?”
Daisy looked up at the ceiling and traced around the edges of the skylight with her gaze. She was afraid to answer, partly because she wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted, and also because she couldn’t be sure he wanted the same thing. She’d never make that mistake again.
She dropped her voice to a near whisper. “I don’t know.”
Trinity stared. If she were going to respond, she didn’t have a chance. Clara leaned over the back of the sofa and looked from one to the other of them. “Pie?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Daisy struggled to breathe. She couldn’t get her head out the water, and every time she thought she was close to the surface—close to the point where she’d be able to put her face up to the sun and snatch some air into her lungs—some force pushed her back down.
No, not a force—hands.
His hands.
Barry’s.
She could see him through the murky water, lying belly-down on the pier and laughing. Every time she got near the surface, he laughed harder.
Now he grabbed her shoulders and yanked her up so his face was an inch from hers. “Ha. Ha. You’re so stupid.”
He dunked her.
Daisy scratched and clawed, yelling wordlessly, but this time, when she felt hands on her shoulders, they were more substantive. More real.
“Daisy. Liefje.”
She opened her eyes and once they’d focused on the man straddling her waist and holding her shoulders down against the mattress, she realized he was blond and wore concern on his face. Blue eyes, not brown. A man, not some childish monster.
She stopped squirming. “I’m sorry. I had a bad dream.”
He let go of her shoulders and eased onto the
space on the bed beside her, never taking his eyes from hers.
“I never have nightmares. I’m sorry I woke you.” She rubbed her eyes and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Two a.m. Maybe she could get started on the men’s soap sample for Nikki. It’d be nice to get the approval out of the way before everyone deserted the place Friday for the wedding festivities.
“Stay,” he said. “Please.”
Oh, God, with the longing in his voice, she really wanted to. No one had ever made her feel so wanted, even if just for a night.
“I need to get some work done. I should have left after dinner, but—”
“But you would have rather been here.”
With you, I’d go anywhere.
He nudged her hair back from her eyes. “If you insist on going, I’ll go with you. It’s late. I’d prefer you sleep in with me, though.”
“As nice as that sounds, I’ve got to meet with Nikki at seven.”
He put his hand on her naked shoulder and glided it to the crook of her neck, kneading until she laid her head to the side and let out a little moan. He worked his hand down and across to her spine, tracing to the small of her back.
The small hairs on her neck and arms stood on end at his light touch and his close, lingering proximity to her buttocks.
He crawled over and put his lips on her neck where his hand had been. “So what are you going to do? Work through the night? Burn yourself out?”
Against her back, his cock stirred inside his boxer briefs. She swallowed. “I don’t have a choice,” she said, not sounding convincing even to herself. Of course she had a choice. Isn’t that what the boys had been arguing with Clara about? Her not exercising her choices?
“Tell your mother what you’re doing. Will she be so hurt?”
Daisy breathed out a scoff, and immediately sucked in some air as Ben slipped his hand down the collar of her T-shirt and palmed her breast. “I can’t think with you doing that.”
“So stop thinking for a while.”
If only.
“What’s this sudden compulsion of yours to be so productive, hmm?” He pulled his hand free of her breast only to urge her shirt over her head.
She didn’t stop him.
“Why now? Why are you suddenly so ambitious? Are you dying?” He brushed her hair away from her back, laying it over her shoulder. His lips pressed against the highest ridge of her spine, just beneath her neck.
She moaned. “No, I’m not dying. I…” His tongue tickled down her back and she hardly noticed that she was leaning forward and a bit to the side more and more as his hands eased her to a prone position. She rearranged her legs so they were behind her, and pressed her cheek against the cool sheets. “Can’t a woman just want to do something with her life?” she finally managed, though barely as he was now kneading the tense muscles of her back.
“It’s good to have ambitions. I have some of my own.” His words tickled the skin over her spine, making the tiny hairs on her neck stand on end with anticipation. Where were those hands—those lips—of his going next? He eased her legs apart.
“What are they? You’ve never talked about them.”
“You’ve never asked.”
He pulled at her waist so she was on all fours with her breasts flat against the bed.
“That’s fair. So what are they?”
He didn’t answer. Instead of words, there was only the probing of his tongue against her slit, and the pressure of his hands parting her cheeks.
She clenched.
“Relax.”
“I…” She started to make some retort—some excuse about why his tongue shouldn’t be heading for a finish line several inches from the one established—but then it was there, and his fingers were in her cunt, teasing her g-spot.
It wasn’t that bad.
He sank his teeth into the flesh of her ass, causing just enough pain to make her aware he was doing it, but not enough she’d ask him to stop.
She was very wet, so wet she could feel it on her thighs, and she felt unbelievably dirty because of it.
What’s happening to me?
He pulled away from her—teeth, lips, hands—and his weight shifted. A pair of boxer briefs whizzed over the edge of the bed, and he was against her again, this time probing her with the tip of his cock.
He teased it up and down her wet slit, building an excruciating anticipation that had her wantonly thrusting back to meet him.
She’d never been so aroused, not even when she was an undersexed sixteen year old so eager for her first time. This man worked her over like magic, and at that moment she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“Do you want me?” he asked, still tickling more than fucking.
She groaned.
“I don’t think I heard you, liefje.” He slapped a palm across her buttocks.
She opened her eyes wide and sucked in some air.
“Do you want me?” he repeated.
Decision time. She’d never been a stubborn sort, but for once, she briefly considered not answering. Perhaps he’d warm her other cheek, too. But, what would bring her pleasure sooner? She arched her back and pressed her ass against his thighs. “Yes.”
“Why?”
Is he kidding me? She suddenly felt very foolish, and tried to push herself upright, but his other hand swatted her ass, and she got the clue.
Although he wasn’t the one in charge, not really, he was the one setting the pace. The tone. Where they would end up that evening, she didn’t know, but she had an itch to get there. She settled back onto hands and knees and responded. “Because you’re good. So good.”
He slipped into her in one easy press, and then his lips were at her ear. “What am I good at, liefje?”
She squirmed, wriggling her rear against him until his grip of her waist made her stop. She didn’t know the answer to that. When she was with him, whether she was naked and sharing his bed, in a car with him, or watching him strut past her workstation at N-by-N, she felt alive. His presence was so goddamned stimulating she didn’t know what to do with herself.
“Vertel me. Tell me.” He eased out of her at a deliriously slow pace.
She tried pushing back once again, but his hands were too strong and held her too still. Best she answer. “You…make me feel like you want me.”
“Of course I do. Who wouldn’t?” His teeth met the sensitive curve of her neck and pressed. Obviously, he didn’t really want an answer. He wanted her compliance, and she was more than willing to give it. “Je bent alles. Een perfecte vrouw.”
“Hmm?”
“I want you.” He pushed back in almost to the hilt, and she threw her head back with a gasp.
For some reason, it didn’t sound like a temporary sort of want.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Ben!” Nikki stood in the doorway of her office and made a come here gesture with her hand.
He’d only stepped into the barn to pick up some paperwork for Jerry, who worked from home in advance of the evening’s rehearsal dinner. When he raised an eyebrow at the tiny terror, she bobbed her head toward the inside of her office and mouthed help. He pressed the file folder he’d intended to deliver under his arm and made his way up the aisle.
“What’s up?” he asked the obviously impromptu gathering at her desk.
“Close the door.”
He did and looked to Daisy for explanation.
She shrugged and offered him a shy smile, so he eased between her and Juan at the desk’s edge so their shoulders were touching.
He didn’t miss that little blush before she turned her face.
“Francine had a doctor’s appointment this morning,” Nikki said, “so I’m trying to approve one of these bars before she gets back. I want to finalize it now because I want it in the catalogue that’s due to get set on Monday.”
“What do you need?” Ben asked.
Charlie, who’d been leaning against the wall behind Nikki’s desk chair, held out a cellophane
covered object. “Sniff that. Me and Juan already have our opinions. Tell Nikki what you think.”
“Is this the men’s soap?” Ben looked at Daisy.
“Yes. Only ten bars in this batch. This blend was harder than I thought.”
As soon as he looked down at the thing, he understood why. Where the soap wasn’t a solid white, it was swirled through with a translucent ocean blue. The pattern sort of reminded him of finely-veined marble—the rare stuff. The patterning was organic, but distinctly resembled waves.
“It’s called Sink or Swim,” Nikki said. “So, tell me if it floats.”
Charlie groaned at the pun.
“Hmm.” Ben brought the bar to his nose and took a tentative sniff. When the scent didn’t bowl him over, he deepened his inhale. He closed his eyes and tried to identify the notes, but couldn’t. What did he know about fragrances other than whether or not they smelled good? That one did. “That’s quite nice,” he said.
“I thought so, too, but I’m a girl,” Nikki said. “I sent Charlie home to use it. Sniff him.”
Charlie’s eyes went wide and he put up his hands. “Wait, now—”
“God, just let him sniff you. My opinion is skewed because I know your natural smell.”
Ben looked at Juan. “Did you sniff him?”
Juan nodded. “Yep. Twice more when he wasn’t looking.”
Charlie blew out a breath. “Well, come on and tell me if I smell like a girl, then.”
Ben walked around the desk and slowly leaned in for a whiff. He sniffed again. And again.
“Okay, now you’re just being funny,” Charlie said.
Ben laughed and retreated to one of the guest chairs. “Not at all. It’s the layering. The first sniff there’s one smell, and then it hits the back of your nose and you realize there’s something else beneath. It’s not girly. At least, I don’t think it is. It’s fresh. Clean. It’s like the scent of the ocean on the breeze from a few miles away.”
“That’s my goddamned catalogue copy,” Nikki said, smacking her desk with the palm of her and pulling her red lips back in a grin.
“Wait,” Daisy said. “So that’s it? You’re going to approve it just like that?”
