Anything But Love

by Abigail Strom

  “That’s a really long title,” she said, looking at the enormous sundae on the table between them. She dug her spoon into the ice cream, making sure to get a good dollop of fudge and whipped cream.

  She put the bite in her mouth and gave a moan of pleasure. “Oh my God, that’s good.”

  Ben didn’t say anything, and she glanced up. He was staring at her with an odd expression.

  “What is it?”

  He shook his head and picked up his own spoon.

  “Nothing’s wrong. I like to see you enjoying yourself, that’s all.” He took a bite, and then it was his turn to make a sound of pleasure.

  “You’re enjoying it too, huh?”

  “Yeah.” He lifted his dark and stormy, smiling at her over the rim. “But I enjoy things all the time. It’s more of a special occasion for you.”

  Ben did enjoy things. He always had.

  A sudden memory of their senior year of high school flashed before her mind’s eye.

  Ben had dated Alexis Shaw for most of that year. They didn’t do a lot of PDAs, or maybe Jessica just didn’t see them. But one day she’d caught sight of them in an empty classroom. They were leaning up against a wall, kissing. That’s all it had been—just kissing. But something in the way they’d abandoned themselves so completely to each other had twisted her insides.

  She would never be that free with someone. That lustful. That happy.

  “Would you like another bite?”

  She came back to the present when Ben asked that question, gesturing with his spoon toward the sundae.

  She found herself thinking of him in the ocean that afternoon, his bare torso hard and sculpted and golden in the sun. Then she flashed back to the teenage boy he’d been, kissing his girlfriend like it was the most important thing he’d ever do.

  Her cheeks burned. What had made her think of that long-ago moment? And why was she picturing him in his bathing suit?

  “No, thanks,” she said, lowering her eyes and taking another sip of her drink.

  The meal drew to an end soon after. When Jessica rose from her chair, a wave of dizziness made her realize that two martinis and a very strong dark and stormy had, in fact, made themselves felt.

  Aha! That’s why she was thinking of Ben in his bathing suit. She was tipsy.

  Ben offered her his arm as they left the restaurant, and she started to giggle.

  He raised an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

  “You being formal.”

  He smiled down at her. “I wasn’t being formal. I was just trying to keep you from falling down. You seem a little, uh, exhilarated.”

  “Exhilarated? That’s the best euphemism for being drunk I’ve ever heard.” She threw her hands up in the air. “I’m exhilarated!”

  Ben took one of her hands and tucked it under his arm. “Good for you. Now let’s go take that walk by the beach.”

  But when they reached the doors at the other end of the lobby, they saw through the glass that it had begun to rain.

  “Wait here,” Ben told her. “I’ll grab an umbrella from the front desk.”

  Jessica nodded. But after he left, some impulse made her push through the doors to the shelter of the portico.

  Outside she could hear the rain as well as see it. It pattered down onto the roof above her, the grassy lawn, and the flagstones of the path that led to the ocean.

  As a kid, she’d loved summer showers. She’d loved jumping from puddle to puddle in Central Park, her skin warm and wet and her hair heavy with rainwater. She remembered smoothing it back from her face until it was as sleek as a seal’s pelt.

  Of course it was against her mother’s rules to go out in the rain without an umbrella. But that had been in the days when she would still, once in a while, do something she wasn’t supposed to do.

  Before she realized what she intended, she’d stepped out from under the portico roof and onto the flagstone path.

  The rain was coming down harder now, and it didn’t take long for her to get soaking wet.

  “Jess!”

  That was Ben, coming to her rescue.

  She turned just as he reached her, opening the umbrella he’d brought to shelter her from the rain.

  “What happened? Why’d you come out here?”

  This was quintessential Ben—concerned for others, not noticing or caring about his own comfort. He was holding the umbrella over her and getting wet himself, but it was obvious he wasn’t worried about that.

  “You’re soaked,” he said, frowning down at her.

  He was so handsome and strong. So kind, so warmhearted, so comfortable in his own skin.

  Everything she wasn’t. Everything she could never be.

  Years ago, when they were friends, Ben had tried to put some of his warmth and bravery into her. He’d failed, but that hadn’t stopped him from trying again—right up until the moment she’d pushed him away for good.

  And now, years later, he’d shown up in her life at her very worst moment, trying to help her stand on her feet again.

  Trying to give her shelter from the rain.

  She took the umbrella from him and tossed it aside.

  “What the—”

  She put her hands on his shoulders. The material of his suit was wet beneath her palms, and she moved her hands to his face.

  He went absolutely still when she did that, staring down at her.

  “What are you doing, Jess?”

  His voice was gruff, wary . . . but there was something else there, too.

  Desire.

  “I want something.”

  The rain was coming down harder. Another couple came out of one of the cottages and hurried toward them, staring in astonishment before scurrying into the shelter of the hotel lobby.

  She could feel Ben’s jaw tighten under her hands. “Wanting something doesn’t always make it a good idea.”

  She shook her head slowly. “Oh, no. You don’t get to say that to me now, after you spent the last twenty-four hours telling me I should do what I want.”

  His dark eyes seemed to glitter in the light that spilled out of the hotel windows. His chest was rising and falling with more effort than she would have thought necessary for someone just standing still.

  “Jessica—”

  “You hardly ever call me that.”

  “Call you what?”

  “Jessica.”

  She saw his Adam’s apple jump as he swallowed. “Jess, then.”

  “No.”

  “No, what?”

  “I liked it. Call me Jessica again.”

  He closed his eyes briefly and opened them again. Then he took hold of her wrists and moved her hands away from his face.

  “Jessica,” he said, and the low rumble of his voice saying the three syllables of her name made her shiver. “I don’t think—”

  “Ben. Ben. What about the project? Finding Out What Jessica Likes?”

  “I just—”

  “What are you protecting me from now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask you, and you’re already protecting me from whatever it is. What do you think I’m going to ask?”

  He took a deep breath. “You’re right. I don’t know. What is it you want to do?”

  “I want to go swimming.”

  His eyebrows rose. “That’s it?”

  She was tempted to cross her fingers behind her back, but he still held her wrists. “That’s it.” Suddenly enjoying herself immensely, she smiled up at him. “Why, Ben, what did you think I was going to say?”

  He released her hands. “You want to go swimming in the rain?”

  “Yes. I’ve always wanted to, but it’s not the kind of thing people do. According to you, though, I can do whatever I want on this trip. Of course, that doesn’t mean you have to go with me. I don’t mind going alone.”

  “Are you kidding? I’m not letting you swim alone at night. I’m coming with you.”

  Excel
lent.

  “Okay, then.”

  The lobby doors opened and an older couple came out, exclaiming in dismay at the rain beyond the shelter of the porch. When they saw Ben and Jessica standing in the downpour, they stared in bewilderment.

  “Here,” Ben said, stooping to grab their discarded umbrella and walking over to hand it to them. “Apparently we won’t be needing this.”

  When he came back to Jessica, he crooked his elbow with all the aplomb of an escort at a grand ball. “Shall we?” he asked.

  She laid her hand primly on his arm. “Yes, indeed.”

  Then they walked sedately down the flagstone path.

  There was something beautifully surreal about strolling through the pouring rain in their evening clothes. Most people were safely in their rooms or in the restaurant, but every so often someone would go scurrying past, holding an umbrella or a jacket over their heads. And she and Ben walked along as though there weren’t a cloud in the sky.

  They were soaked to the skin. After a minute Ben said, “Your dress is probably ruined. Not to mention your shoes.”

  “I know.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “Nope.”

  His arm under her hand felt strong and warm and solid, even encased in a rain-soaked suit jacket. Everything about him was strong and warm and solid.

  He started to turn when the path branched off toward their cottage, but Jessica tugged on his arm. “The beach is this way.”

  “Sure, but aren’t we going to change?”

  She laughed and dropped his arm, spinning around in a circle. “What for? We might as well go in like this.” She kicked off her shoes and reached down to pick them up. “I’ll race you to the water,” she called over her shoulder, starting to run barefoot toward the beach.

  He caught up with her almost immediately, of course, and by the time she felt the sand under her feet, he was already at the water’s edge.

  He turned and faced her as she came to a stop, laughing.

  “My God,” she gasped. “I haven’t run like that in years.”

  He grinned down at her. “It suits you,” he said.

  “It does?”

  “Your face is glowing.”

  She pressed her palms to her face. “How can you tell?”

  The nearest light came from the windows of the cottages and the lanterns along the path, and there couldn’t be enough to see the color of her cheeks.

  “I can tell,” was all he said. Then he kicked off his own shoes, peeled off his socks, removed his jacket and tie, and tossed them onto the sand. “I hope my phone stays dry.”

  “How much are you planning to take off?” she asked.

  “This is it,” he said, wading into the water in his pants and dress shirt. “What about you?”

  “I’m good,” she said, wading out beside him.

  The falling rain made music on the water. At night, the ocean seemed even bigger: dark and mysterious and unknown.

  Her dress floated up in a circle around her.

  “You look like some kind of water fairy,” Ben said. “The spirit of a water lily, or something.”

  He was waist deep and she was up to her shoulders. Between the ocean and the rain, she was surrounded by water but still able to breathe, as though she really were some kind of sea spirit—a mermaid or other creature that could live underwater.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, her face upturned. After a moment Ben asked, “Do you want to swim?”

  She opened her eyes and turned to face him. After parading through the rain in a new Prada, she should have felt capable of anything—but she was suddenly so nervous her heart raced.

  “I want something else,” she said.

  And before he could answer or back away, she slid her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  From the moment he’d seen Jessica with her pink silk dress plastered to her body, Ben had been struggling to overcome his baser instincts. She was tipsy, for one thing—and she’d been left at the altar the day before. She was the poster child of a vulnerable woman no man had the right to take advantage of.

  He’d redoubled his efforts when she’d put her hands on his face, even though she’d looked so beautiful in that moment she’d taken his breath away.

  Once they were in the ocean he’d relaxed his guard a bit, figuring this rain-soaked night swim was her way to let off some steam . . . steam that might otherwise have led to a one-night stand she’d regret the moment it was over.

  Maybe that was why she managed to take him by surprise. Whatever the reason, when she kissed him, his mind short-circuited and his instincts took over.

  She smelled like the ocean and tasted like rainwater, and the instant their lips touched, his arms went around her.

  His heart slammed against his ribs as he pulled her close. She made a noise in her throat, and for a second he was afraid he’d hurt her.

  Then she gripped his shoulders and pressed herself against him.

  Electricity surged through him as his tongue slid into her mouth. She was hot silk and sweet fire and rain-warmed skin, and her hunger and need were so unexpected that for a few feverish moments he forgot everything but kissing her—kissing her with so much intensity that the fusion of their mouths felt like alchemy.

  But when she reached through the water for the waistband of his pants, he dragged his mouth from hers.

  “No,” he panted, his body throbbing with so much heat he half expected the pelting rain to steam when it hit his skin.

  Jessica’s blue eyes looked huge and dark as she stared up at him. She was panting, too, and her lips were so damn tempting he had to look away for a moment.

  “Why can’t we?” she asked, grabbing the front of his shirt as he tried to take a step back. “You said I should do things just because I want to. You said I should experiment. You said—”

  The tremble in her voice and the feel of her small hands fisted in his shirt were doing things to him he didn’t want to think about. “I didn’t mean you should experiment with me,” he said roughly, trying to control himself.

  “But—”

  “Stop.”

  She stared at him. “Are you angry?”

  “What? No! Of course not.”

  “But your voice is all growly.”

  “That’s because I’m trying really, really hard not to rip your clothes off right now.”

  “But that’s what I want you to do!”

  “No, you don’t.”

  She let go of his shirt with one hand, but only so she could smack him on the arm. “Don’t you dare tell me what I want after you harangued me about finding myself.”

  He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, you’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I just . . .” He bowed his head and let the rain fall on the back of his neck. “Look, I don’t claim to be a saint, but . . . there’s no way I could live with myself if something happened between us tonight. You’ve been drinking, and—”

  “Only that dark and stormy—and, well, the martinis I had before dinner.”

  “You had martinis before dinner?”

  “Two.”

  “I didn’t know that. Okay, so you’ve really been drinking. Not to mention you’ve had a pretty traumatic twenty-four hours. Even if you signed a contract in your own blood swearing I wasn’t taking advantage of you, I’d never be able to absolve myself.”

  “But—”

  He closed his hands over hers. “Listen to me. If you still feel this way tomorrow morning, it’ll be a different story.”

  She blinked. “You mean . . . if I still want you in the morning . . . then we can sleep together?”

  His heart clenched in his chest—and other parts of his anatomy tightened as well. “Yeah,” he said gently. “If you feel the same in the harsh light of day, I’ll be with you in a heartbeat. Okay?”

  “Well . . . okay.”

  Her head dipped down, and she heaved a si
gh. “So . . . I guess we should go back to the room, huh?”

  She looked so depressed that his heart twisted again.

  “Are you kidding? It’s incredible out here. I’m not ready to go back yet.”

  She looked up. “Are you sure?”

  “Hell yes. No deeper than this, though, okay? It’s dark and I don’t want to lose you in a tragic drowning accident.”

  “Okay,” Jessica said.

  She took a step away from him. Then she tipped herself backward and floated supine, closing her eyes and lifting her face to the rain.

  He stayed by her side, holding her hand but letting her drift. As the minutes went by, the rain lessened and then stopped altogether. Once it did, he became more aware of the sounds of the ocean—the lapping of the waves against the dock and the beach.

  After a while he stretched out on the water and floated beside Jessica, gazing up at the cloud-covered sky.

  The wind freshened, and a ghostly crescent moon gleamed through a rent in the clouds. When they parted farther, a sprinkling of stars glowed against the velvety sky.

  “It’s so beautiful,” Jessica said beside him, her voice low and rich and clear.

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “It is.”

  They floated for another minute of blissful silence. And then, suddenly, there was saltwater in his face and Jessica was laughing.

  “What the—”

  He stood upright again as he realized that Jessica had splashed him. “I can’t believe you did that,” he said.

  “Well, I wanted to do it. And I have it on good authority that if I do things just because I want to do them—”

  He didn’t let her finish. He grabbed her around the waist and tossed her, grinning when she came up sputtering a few yards away.

  “I can’t believe you did that,” she gasped.

  “Believe it, lady.”

  She flung her wet hair back and grinned at him. “Are you ready to go in?”

  “I guess so.”

  They thrashed their way to shore, and Ben grabbed their things. Then they walked barefoot up the beach to the path and from there to the cottage.

  “You should take the bathroom first,” Ben said at the door. “I’ll wait out here.”

  “You don’t want to come inside?”

  “I’ll just drip all over everything,” he said. “I’d rather stay on the patio and stargaze.”