by Mae Nunn
His lips smothered her mouth, softly. His hands spread wide, one above the other supporting her spine, sweeping her backward as if to dip her low in a wedding day waltz. Ali clasped her hands behind his neck, feeling the pulse in his throat thumping in time with the heartbeat pressed close to her own. His kiss took possession of her lips and her soul. She was helpless and hopeless, swept away by Benjamin’s presence.
Far too soon he raised her upright and set her securely on her feet before releasing her from his arms.
“Thank you,” she murmured. She cast her gaze downward for fear of what she might learn from the expression on his face.
He pressed a knuckle beneath her chin, forced her eyes to meet his. “Thanks for what?”
“For not letting me feel like the Lone Ranger over that impetuous hug.”
“Impetuous? So, when you slid your arms around my body you had no intention of letting me kiss you?”
“Well, I, uh…” She stammered for an answer, tried to turn away. Benjamin caught her by the wrist and pulled her close. Pinned her once again to his solid chest.
“Let me tell you what I learned from watching my parents. When my mama cozied up to my daddy in the kitchen, she was either looking for a kiss or a credit card. You don’t seem like the outlet mall type so I figured some smoochin’ might be in order.”
“Smoochin’? I haven’t heard anybody use that term in a month of Sundays. That’s funny.”
Benjamin brought his face so close the tip of his nose touched Ali’s.
“Then how come I don’t hear you laughin’?” he murmured, his lips pressing hers lightly so she felt as much as heard the question.
If he expected an answer he didn’t give her a chance to offer one. Instead he claimed her mouth again, this time more insistent than the last. She could count the number of men she’d allowed to kiss her on two fingers and none had come close to turning her head. Benjamin had it spinning and she held on for dear life.
They called her the Rock. Solid and calm, unchanging in the storm. But at this moment, right now, a tempest stirred in her core. And just when she felt her knees would go weak, he exercised the wisdom of Solomon by ending the intimate moment, releasing her from the embrace and stepping back a few inches. He smoothed stray hairs away from her face and ran the tips of his fingers down one side of her jaw.
“I’m tempted to say you’re beautiful, but that’s not the right word to describe you.”
“Maybe because it’s a little too classy for me.” She tried to joke, never having thought of herself in that way. She’d always been proud of her strength of character, which she felt attracted people to her. But not so much with physical appearance since she’d never even come close to the svelte women in the fashion magazines.
The lines between his sandy brows deepened as a frown carved a bracket around his mouth. “If anything it’s too common. You’re a tempting and complicated woman, Ali.”
She huffed, the slightest sound of disbelief at his comment. His scowl deepened.
“Believe it or not, I understand that reaction.” He nodded. “I always felt people were drawn to me because of my athletic success. I was at the end of my football career before I recognized that being a Dallas Cowboys linebacker wasn’t the only reason people cared about me. I learned that my value was as much for encouraging words as it was for reading an offensive line. It’s about who I am, not what I do. Just as it is with you, my love.”
She felt a buzz of connection as if someone had thrown a switch, freeing a powerful current to flow between the two of them. She longed to articulate the newfound feelings, but his use of the endearment blurred her thoughts, made them too confusing. She didn’t dare to interpret him literally. So, she kept the moment light.
“Is that your way of saying I’m not just a pretty face?”
“Exactly!” He exclaimed. “I’m more than a big ole meat-headed, no-necked monster of a football player. And you’re so much more than the doctor who listens to the problems of mixed-up kids and hangs from helicopters in an orange jumpsuit. It’s who you are in here that has me falling in love with you, Ali.”
He tapped his index finger on the center of her chest, not knowing how his words and that light touch stirred the pain she’d carried deep inside for as long as she could remember. Maybe it was time to let the pain go.
Ben’s heart rattled against his ribs, a creature determined to break loose from its cage now that the truth had set it free.
Lord, I beg You, let her feel the same!
As silent pleas rose heavenward, he watched the enchanting pink flush in Ali’s cheeks spread to her hairline. Ben thought he knew all about women, but he’d started back at square one the day she’d air dropped into his life and then promptly stomped out of it.
She had a great deal to give and he had so much to learn. How would he ever experience it all when he’d just tied the mantle of politics like a millstone around his neck and then dived for the deepest channel in the sea?
He couldn’t even be sure of her vote, so how could he expect to know what she felt in the depths of her heart?
“Is there any chance you’re confusing gratitude with love?” she asked, her voice low to soften the impact of her words.
“Whoa, that response is not what I had in mind.” The question took him aback.
“What did you expect me to say?”
“Well, when a man lays his soul bare right in the middle of the kitchen he’s usually hoping for some sort of positive reinforcement.”
“Then let me put it another way. If you saved a stranger from a burning building and they pledged undying loyalty to you, how would you ever know if that gift came from the person’s heart or from their sense of obligation? And what if you’d simply been doing your job and didn’t deserve the loyalty?”
Ben shoved both hands through his hair and kept his fingers laced behind his head while he considered what she’d said.
“Let me see if I understand you correctly. You’re wondering if what I’m feeling for you is really just gratitude because you’ve helped me with Ethan.”
She nodded. “It wouldn’t be the first time thankfulness was twisted into something more. It’s a potent emotion.”
He massaged the back of his skull, counted to ten and then placed his hands on Ali’s shoulders. Leaning in he fixed his gaze on hers.
“Once again, I understand where you’re coming from. I didn’t expect it and don’t like it, but I understand. People do sometimes get their emotions fouled up with their motives. But I promise you, sweet lady, that’s not the case with me. I may be out of practice expressing it, but I haven’t forgotten what the real deal should feel like.”
He pulled Ali to him, folded her close and tucked her head beneath his chin. “This ain’t gratitude, Ali. This is love. If you don’t return it I can deal with that. But please don’t sell yourself short by thinking you don’t deserve this.”
Her head bobbed but she didn’t speak. He felt her chest expand with a big breath and wondered if she was taking in his words or letting them spill over the dam that was built around her emotions. He inhaled her sweet scent, planted a tender kiss on the top of her auburn head and let his arms slide to his sides.
“Okay, then.” He turned away to find some busy work, anything to hide his disappointment. He pulled open the storage closet and located the large serving tray. Plopping it onto the counter he began to load it with tall plastic glasses and the pitcher of iced lemonade. “While I take this outside and get started digging up that bed would you mind checking on Ethan? I doubt he’ll have the energy to come back down but it’s worth a try.”
“Sure, I’d be happy to.” She turned toward the door that would take her through the foyer, across the family room and upstairs to Ethan’s suite. As she put several steps between them, he couldn’t help admiring the curves of her body and the honesty of the spirit he suspected carried a deep wound.
“Benjamin?” She’d turned back to face him. “No one’
s ever said those things to me. It means a lot.”
He gave her a small smile, unable to push more words past the tightness in his throat. He’d offered her his love and she’d given him back what she believed he felt. Gratitude. There was much more to Ali than he knew.
More than he’d ever know unless she’d trust him enough to tell him the secret she held onto so tightly.
“Simba, come.” Ali gave a hand signal as she put her foot on the first step. Simba stood but didn’t follow. Instead she turned her long, regal nose toward the kitchen, her ears crooked in the direction of Benjamin. When she looked back again she tilted her head, judgment in those dark eyes. Ali signaled again, come. Simba dropped down to the carpet, put her nose on her paws and blew out a puff of breath, a doggie sigh if ever there was one.
“Suit yourself, traitor,” Ali murmured, then headed up the steps.
As she dragged one foot higher than the other she bit back the trembling that threatened to overtake her lips. Lips Benjamin has just kissed. He’d said the things she’d dreamed of hearing and she’d dismissed them.
Dismissed them to his face.
But it was the right thing to do. He was going places she didn’t want to go, would stand for causes she might not agree with, needed a mother for his son even more than a helpmate for himself.
And then there was that family history, that name he was so proud of. Ali couldn’t fit into his life in a million years, and she prayed he’d never have to know why.
She rapped lightly on Ethan’s doorframe, expecting he might be asleep.
“What?” he blurted. Ethan reclined facedown across his bed, still fully dressed including scuffed and dirty hightops.
“Is that any way to speak to me after the awesome day we’ve had?” She moved into his room and took her usual seat at his desk.
“Are you in love with my dad?” Ethan mumbled, his mouth pressed against the bed covers.
“Oh, good grief.” Ali refused to let the renewed hammering in her chest be her primary concern just now. “What is it with the Lamar men today?”
“It’s okay with me if you are. Not that anybody cares what I think.” He grudgingly gave his blessing.
Ali stared at the top of Ethan’s rumpled head, wondering what was prompting this and where it was leading. Though he’d shown improvement, it was still early. She knew only too well that tragedy could snuff out progress in the blink of an eye. Ali left the chair, moved across the room and risked perching on the corner of Ethan’s king-size mattress.
“Your feelings are very important, and if there was anything between your dad and me you’d be the first to know about it.”
Had the boy come down the stairs and seen them together in the kitchen? Ali mentally flinched at the thought of what Ethan might have witnessed. And if he had seen something, was he interpreting it through the lens of his teenage mind or the perspective of his childish thinking?
Ethan raised his head off the blanket. The eyes he’d inherited from his father gave her a mocking glare.
“Don’t patronize me, Ali. I’m mentally ill but I’m not blind or stupid.”
“Very well said. Please continue.”
He pushed upright and flopped into a cross-legged sitting position. “This was supposed to be my day. At least you made an effort to know what the exhibit was about, but Dad couldn’t have cared less so he should have stayed home. The way you two ignored me I might as well have been there by myself.”
“Ethan, we were within six feet of you all day long. I intentionally took you on a holiday when the library was closed so you could enjoy the fossils without being disturbed by other people. I left you alone so you could concentrate.”
“You left me alone so you could concentrate on my dad.”
Ethan’s accusation was like a hard landing that knocks the breath out of you, and a body slam like that was usually your own fault for not paying attention to your boundaries. Did she deserve the blow he’d just dealt her?
“You made dreamy eyes at him like the women who come up and ask for his autograph.”
“Ethan, if I gave that impression it was inappropriate and I apologize.” Was she so pathetically transparent?
“It wasn’t all your fault.” He flapped a hand at her apology. “Dad was watching you like a hungry mockingbird watches a fat worm.”
She couldn’t resist snickering at the metaphor.
Ethan’s mouth twisted in a sly grin. “That’s one Dad says all the time I was just looking for a chance to use it.”
“Well, you did good.” She risked laying a hand on his knee. “I really am sorry if I didn’t pay enough attention to you today. My effort to give you some personal space was well intentioned. I certainly never expected that your dad and I would get distracted by each other’s company.”
Ethan nodded but slid his legs straight out on the bed, scooting away from her touch.
“If you’re willing to go when the place is full of people we’ll try again another day.”
“Just you and me?” His voice was hopeful.
“No, your father needs to be there, too.”
“But why?” he whined.
“Ethan, I’m only your therapist, somebody who will be here for as long as you need me. But your dad is your family, and he’ll be here for you forever. You have to work your problems and differences out between the two of you. I’m not the mediator or the glue that keeps you working together.” And I never can be.
“So, what are you telling me?”
Simple question. Difficult answer. It was time to see if he could handle it.
“Honey, I’m not a substitute for your mama.”
“But if you would try to be then maybe Dad could forgive me.”
“Forgive you for what?”
Ethan’s normally expressionless, stony face crumbled, like a mask of molded clay deprived of water for too long.
“She had the accident because of me,” he confessed, his voice just above a whisper. “It was raining hard but I kept talking. She asked me to let her pay attention to the road but I wouldn’t shut up. When the other car cut us off she was distracted by my big mouth. It’s my fault she died.”
“No it’s not, kiddo. Blaming ourselves won’t change tragic things. Taking on guilt doesn’t undo the past or serve any useful purpose. Believe me, I know.”
He slung his long legs to the side of his bed and stood, then moved as if heading toward the dressing room for privacy. But three steps from Ali he stopped, turned about face and dropped to his knees on the floor at her feet. The boy so adverse to physical contact and displays of emotion buried his face in Ali’s lap, wrapped his arms around her waist and cried as if his life was over. His tears flowed freely for the loss of his mother, the loss of his innocence, the loss of his hope.
Ali stroked Ethan’s head and wept along with him for all the same reasons.
Chapter Nineteen
When she’d dried the last of her tears and Ethan’s hiccups had subsided, Ali patted his back lightly and suggested they go outside and enjoy what was left of the beautiful afternoon.
“The sooner I help your dad dig up that flower bed the sooner he can grill us a burger. I noticed enough ground beef in the fridge to feed the Aggie Corps of Cadets.”
Ethan rocked back on his haunches, grabbed the edge of his covers and wiped his nose on the sheet. Ali made note to leave a reminder for the housekeeper to change the linens.
“You won’t tell Dad about this, will you?”
“Not as long as you come down and visit with us.”
He squinted through still-shiny eyes and tilted his head to stare just like Simba had done earlier. “That’s blackmail.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Does the term ‘self-sabotage’ ring a bell with you, big sister?” Erin’s reaction to Ali’s retelling of the day’s events was much stronger than expected. It probably would have been better to wait until after the ride home, but Ali had phoned as soon as she’d hit the highway.
/>
“I prefer to think of it as brutal honesty.”
“To what end, may I ask? What is the point in offending a guy who’s declared his love unless it’s to run him off so you won’t have to deal with your feelings?”
“For a civilian, you’re pretty savvy about psychoanalysis.”
“If savvy is learning from my own experience, then I guess that’s what I am. Mostly I just decided to quit letting fear set up a roadblock between me and happiness. The only way I could do that was to stop running from Daniel and Dana and let them teach me how to be part of a loving family.”
A loving family. That was a fantasyland Ali and her siblings had never visited. Their home was a place for survival, not bonding, and life in foster care hadn’t been much better. As adults they’d compensated in different ways—Erin by abandoning her husband and child, Ali through studying the dysfunction caused by abuse. And since Heath wouldn’t answer her letters, it was anybody’s guess how their little brother had come to cope with their violent childhood.
“Alison, listen to me. Ben Lamar is a decent guy who’s fallen in love with you for all the right reasons. Don’t let the differences in who you are and how you grew up keep you from the life God wants you to have. He’s sent a Christian man to cherish you. Don’t throw that back in His face.”
Ali made the rest of the drive to her townhouse in silence, not even turning on the radio for company. Occasionally she glanced back at Simba, who’d refused the rare offer to ride up front with her harness secured to the seatbelt. Instead, she’d waited stubbornly at the back gate of the Land Rover as if to say her crate was preferable to being an arm’s length from her mixed-up mistress.
The last of the sun’s red-orange rays had bled out of the night sky and a brilliant canopy of stars was beginning to sparkle in the distance. The tangy lemonade in her to-go cup was difficult to swallow past the emotions in her throat that had become a knot in her chest. A knot of guilt that wouldn’t serve any useful purpose, just as she’d told Ethan.
