by Alison Kent
He took a minute to breathe so he didn't blurt out words he'd regret. Heidi meant too much for him to have any regrets. "You're smart, Heidi. You're talented. You deserve better."
"Dang it, Ben. You think I don't know that?" Her frustration ran as high as his. She spun a circle where she stood then walked on bare feet toward him.
"You think I don't bust my butt at school and practice for a reason? Two more years." Her voice dropped back down to a whisper as she held her fingers up in a V. "Two more years and I'm gone. I can survive anything for two years."
Growing up like this, living here, like this, how could she be so strong?
"Okay," he said, wishing he wasn't having so much trouble today coming up with things to say. Wishing his throat didn't hurt so much when he said that one single word.
"I'll be fine, Ben. I will because I have to. I have my sax. And I have all of you guys." She was standing in front of him now and she reached out and fingered the placket of his shirt.
And then she hugged him. She just reached her arms tip around his neck and pressed her body to his.
She was so small. One hand found and spanned the curve of her waist from her hipbone to her ribs. The other barely fit between her shoulder blades. He'd never thought she was this small. It was like wrapping his arms around nothing.
Until he felt how firm her chest was. The jersey she wore was bulky and big but his hands knew she wasn't wearing a bra. Which made him aware that what he'd thought were buttons or knots of shirt were her nipples.
He groaned. Why did she have to have nipples?
"Ben?" Her breath was warm against his ear.
He grunted. And sounded just like a pervert.
"Promise me something?"
He grumbled out, "Sure. What?"
Her hands moved from his shoulders to his chest. And then she shoved. Hard. And glared up at him to yell in his face.
"Don't you ever come to my house again. Never, ever again!"
HEIDI CAME AWAKE slowly, squinting against the morning light, but not opening her eyes. She forced down a yawn and breathed evenly, hating to move too soon and risk waking Ben.
His breathing remained even and deep and stirred the hair at her nape—quite a far cry from his ragged panting which had heated her skin only hours ago.
Twelve hours ago she'd been a virgin and now she was not. What had they been thinking last night? Doing it in public? Scant yards away from prying eyes in formal wear?
The better question was, had they been thinking at all? Or had they only been feeling, acting on age-old urges and fantasies? She hadn't even fulfilled the promise she'd made to herself and settled the issue of the assault before getting physical, dang it.
Sex in a swimming pool was hardly the deflowering she'd imagined. Even if deflowering by Ben had always been a secret, okay, warped, flight of fancy she'd not even shared with Georgia. And waiting until the age of thirty-three to have sex had never been any sort of grand plan.
If she'd fallen in love, if she'd found a man with whom she wanted to spend her life, whose children she wanted to carry, a man who made her laugh and made her burn and filled her days with happiness and joy and, above all, love, she'd never have given a second thought to sleeping with Ben Tannen.
But she'd rarely dated. And Ben had been constantly and naturally on her mind, working through her college years, as she'd done when she was able, in order to repay his loan.
She'd been career obsessed, with university and law school, the grunt work of internship, the junior partnership at the firm where she'd met Georgia and their dual fate had been sealed.
Heidi sighed and behind her, Ben stirred. His knee nudged the side of her thigh and she smiled at the brush of his hair on her skin. She melted back into his body and he held her there with one arm.
Snuggling and seeking his warmth, she promised herself no regrets. Her fantasy had become her reality. Whatever this meant to Ben, the night had been beautiful, an experience she'd never forget.
And a measure to which she'd always hold physical relationships.
There were too many women who didn't know this tenderness, who knew only violence and poverty and abuse. She had been one of them.
The first case she and Georgia had worked on together, the case that had taken them from co-workers to partners in their own fledgling firm, had involved a seventeen-year-old client wanting to be declared a legal adult to escape an abusive father.
She was going to kill him, the girl had said, if she had to stay there and fight off his sexual advances, she was going to kill him. The teen had reminded Heidi so much of herself with her ill-fitting clothes and chopped hair and her attitude.
She'd been scrappy and independent and Heidi had done what no attorney should do and let her personal agenda color her arguments on the girl's behalf, color her condemnation of the system, as well—a system which had never conducted an inquiry into a minor child's pleas.
The strong-arm legal team had won, and Heidi had known a personal fulfillment she'd been waiting for all of her life. She'd stood in the courtroom while it emptied and then she'd cried buckets of silent tears until she was spent. Until her throat swelled unbearably and the knot of fire in her stomach burned in her chest.
She'd known then that she was going to make a difference. And she had.
She would spend her life working to prove that decency and respect were basic human rights, not benefits to be earned.
To prove that belonging and acceptance and opportunity were not issues of money or class or genealogy, but of qualification and competency.
To prove to Ben that she'd been worthy of his friendship, that his investment had been money well spent.
Her eyes flew open. She stared at the white boards of his bedroom's tongue-and-groove ceiling. No. She had nothing to prove to Ben. Nothing.
And, no, she hadn't given him her virginity to settle her IOU. If that's what he thought, well, she'd straighten that out and quick.
Years ago they'd made a devil's bargain. He'd offered her the money she needed to get into the school of her choice, enough money for books and essentials and, incredibly, enough money to live on campus away from home.
And she'd accepted his offer. How could she say no? She'd been desperate to escape the hellish situation she lived in, desperate to begin her education. A degree was her only ticket out, her only prospect for a future in the world beyond the river.
She'd been so humiliated. Taking money from a friend? She'd rather have taken it from a stranger. Anything would've been better than having to face Ben, to see the pity in his eyes, to see him look at her like she was nothing.
Because in that moment when he'd handed her the check, she'd been less than nothing.
He'd saved her life with the offer and what had she done? She'd flayed his face.
And later, she'd written the note, promising him his money's worth, feeling like a double-whammy disgrace, first for taking the cash, second for making the offer.
But she knew from her mother's example what women did in exchange for men's money. She didn't understand then about friendships. She certainly didn't understand about love. She'd just known that she owed Ben more than simple interest.
And the longer she lay here in his bed, his body warm and comforting against her back, and reflected on what she'd done fifteen years ago in the context of what she'd done last night, the more restless and uncomfortable she grew.
They still hadn't talked about the assault. Or about why he'd brought her home. Besides the sex. If there was anything besides the sex. Heidi stopped the nervous tap of her fingers against the side of the bed and thought about the sex.
They'd made it undetected out of the pool last night. Returning to the party, however, had been out of the question, what with damp hair, makeup ravaged by chlorine and kisses, wet or absent underwear.
As it was, she cringed at the thought of her thong, which they'd never been able to find in the water, being discovered today by the maintenance man.
>
This morning she was sore and she was sensitive and she ached and felt rubbed raw. Ben hadn't pressed for more once they'd made it to his house. He'd urged her instead to sleep.
But she'd wanted him again. She loved the feel of him filling her. And he'd filled her long into the night, discovering what touches she liked and where, the pressure that drove her crazy, how his tongue could make her insane.
Showing her what she could do to send him over the edge.
That had been what she'd most enjoyed, learning his body, how to bring him to incoherent pleasure until he quivered beneath her hands.
He'd teased her about being an apt and eager pupil. She'd countered that he was a patiently precise and very horny professor.
Shifting onto her back, she stretched her arms above her head, feeling the twinges and stings and remnants of achy muscles in her stomach and her thighs. She ran the sole of her foot over Ben's naked calf.
Lying beside him like this, waking in the morning to remember the long passionate night would be so easy to get used to. But she could hardly expect anything more than this weekend when they both led such busy lives.
Love conquers all, Heidi. Ha! Who said Ben loved her? Randy, the rat, had teased her, but she hadn't taken him seriously—at least, no longer than it had taken her to remember to breathe.
Yes, Ben had made love to her, made love with her, but all that had been resolved during the hours of the night was her incomplete sexual education.
Did she love Ben? Was she in love with him? Would she know the difference?
Right now she couldn't fathom never seeing him again because he was so close she could feel every beat of his heart, the brush of his chest hair on her back with every breath he breathed.
But she was due in court tomorrow...she'd be going back to Dallas today... She just couldn't let herself believe this was anything more than a moment out of time, she couldn't let herself believe they had any sort of future.
She'd never expected any of her dreams to come true. She'd only used them to survive. And right now survival meant pulling back, not getting her hopes up.
Because no matter what she believed to be right, no matter all that she'd fought for, she'd never be good enough for the love of Ben Tannen.
Chapter Ten
WHEN BEN AT LAST came fully awake, Heidi was in the shower. He hadn't heard so much as the squeak of a spring when she'd finally left his bed. No wonder. With the night he'd had, he'd been out like a light.
Not so earlier this morning. He'd spent more than a few minutes drifting in and out of consciousness listening to her think.
She'd tried so hard to be quiet and he had to give her credit. She really hadn't made any audible noise. But her thoughts made her heart beat faster, forced her breathing to stop and start with each shift in mental gears.
He'd come close to making love with her then. Nothing like a good orgasm for stress relief—especially with a stress level near peak capacity. But he wasn't a total jerk. He knew her body needed healing time.
Even now, lying beneath nothing but a white cotton tent, er, sheet, picturing her under the spray of the shower, soapsuds slithering down her limbs, over her torso and the swell of her rump, he had the most basic urge to join her.
To stand below the water's steamy blast and fog up the bathroom mirror with their shared body heat. Instead, he stowed his “camping gear" and forced himself from bed.
Snagging up a pair of sweats, he headed to the upstairs guest bath. The wooden flooring creaked beneath the slap of his bare feet and he stopped to straighten the last in the row of framed quilt squares Mrs. Jones had hung the length of the hallway wall.
When he'd bought this old farmhouse he'd modernized the plumbing and upgraded the ancient water heater. So, Heidi running out of hot water while he showered wasn't a worry—not with his spray running on the cool side of frigid.
He did, however, worry about Heidi running out on him. It seemed to have become her pattern. He was surprised she hadn't jumped in one end of the pool last night, come up for air on the other side and kept going.
Why was she always running? What was she so compelled to run from? For a long time he'd thought her initial flight had been because of his money, her lack and the embarrassment of that whole scenario.
But she should've gotten beyond that by now, being such a woman of substance. He worked his thoughts and his shampoo into a lather. The Mighty Heidi Malone was the embodiment of The Joker's potential. She was strong and she was capable. He scrubbed harder at his hair.
My God, look where she'd come from, what she'd made of herself in the years since she'd left Sherwood Grove. Was it the return to this place where she'd grown up that had her running scared? Soap in hands, he came to a screeching mental stop.
Bingo.
Think about it, Ben. Coming to grips with where he'd come from had begun with a similar trip home. It wasn't that much of a leap to see how the same could be happening to Heidi this weekend.
Especially when he considered that her flight of years ago had probably saved her life. And still she'd come back. For him. She'd made love with him. She'd given him her virginity.
And she'd done it beneath the same urban roof where she'd once been locked in an attic to secure her chastity.
What a sick, twisted world.
He felt the change in pressure as Heidi turned off her water. He shut off his own shower and quickly toweled dry. Working still-damp legs into his sweats, he hurried back to his room prepared to bar the door.
She wasn't leaving until they had talked about last night, about high school, about why each time he moved closer she ran in the other direction. Amazingly enough, he made it in time.
She hadn't left, but he wasn't at all surprised to find her packing the overnighter she'd brought in from her car last night.
Neither was he amused. "You don't waste any time, do you?"
She raised her freshly scrubbed face. No makeup, just faded jeans, Nikes and a T-shirt condemning the banning of books.
Pushing damp ringlets away from her face, she twisted her hair into a careless knot and secured it with a chopstick.
Only then did she plant her hands at her hips and glare. "Why do you say that? Because I have a long drive and need to get my act on the road? Or because I thought it best to be covered before you came back to the room?"
Her honesty surprised him. And, yeah, it aroused him as well, so sue him. "Can't keep your hands off me, huh?"
"It's not my hands I'm worried about," she grumbled, reaching for the shoes she'd worn to the party last night and tucking them into her bag.
Ben's tension eased even as it intensified. Heidi seemed a reluctant victim of the "wanna stay, but gotta go" scenario. And he would've bet it was the first part giving her the most trouble. She was none too happy about wanting to stay, while he could hardly keep from rubbing his hands with glee.
He grabbed a T-shirt from his dresser drawer, slipped his bare feet into old canvas boat shoes. Then he headed for the bedroom door. "Let's go."
She crossed her arms over her chest and looked like she was sixteen years old again. "Let's go?"
"I'm starved. And Mrs. Jones makes apple pancakes like you wouldn't believe. Besides," he added, feeling ruthless in his ploy to keep her from leaving. "You told me you wouldn't run out on me. Ever again."
"I'm not running out on you." She couldn't finish her argument. Not when her voice sang with guilt. Leaving behind her bag and her attitude, she tentatively walked toward him. "But I am hungry. And I don't think I've ever had an apple pancake in my life."
Such an easy victory. He didn't even bother to gloat. But he did turn up the charm. "Don't tell me you've turned into a fruits and nuts kinda girl."
"Not really." She followed him down the stairs. "I'm more the no-time-for-breakfast kinda girl."
"Well, this morning you have plenty of time." He'd make sure of that. "And if you aren't sure about the apples, her second best offering is pecan."
&nbs
p; They stepped into the kitchen just as Mrs. Jones took up the last of the mesquite-smoked bacon from a cast-iron skillet. The line of her mouth wasn't as much disapproving as it was disappointed, no doubt because she'd had to wait this long to meet the first woman Ben had ever brought home.
"Mornin', folks. Bacon's hot, coffee's steamin'. And pancake batter's just waitin' for your order."
Ben walked up behind the feisty woman, tugged on her apron strings. "Mrs. Jones. I want you to be the first to meet an old friend of mine, Heidi Malone."
"An old friend, huh? It wouldn't hurt none to let me know when you're having company." Mrs. Jones shook her paring knife at Ben. He dodged, snatched away the coil of apple peel dangling from her other hand. "And an overnight guest at that. Did you at least put out clean towels? And a fresh bar of soap?"
"Yes," he hedged. He didn't know what towels Heidi had used. "Clean towels and the soap was fine. And if I'd known Heidi was coming home with me, I would've let you know."
"You have a phone in that truck of yours. Sherwood Grove is forty minutes away. Don't make excuses." Mrs. Jones didn't put up with nonsense. Shaking her head, she turned to Heidi. "I don't know where he learned his manners."
Heidi pulled out a straight-back chair from beneath the long pine table and perched on the edge. She nodded her enthusiastic agreement. "His conduct does need work, you're right. Can you believe that he left the dance last night without a good-bye or a thank-you to anyone?"
Mrs. Jones clicked her tongue, picked up the batter and stirred. "Shameful. Plain shameful."
Ben leaned back against the sink's edge, arms and feet both crossed. Planning his counterstrike, he lifted a brow. "You said we couldn't go back. Not when you were all wet."
Mrs. Jones stopped stirring. "Wet?"
"Sprinklers. For the rose gardens. At the club." Heidi blushed like a lying ex-virgin then glared at Ben. "I doubt Mrs. Jones is really interested in our night."
"Right now the only thing I'm interested in is hearing how you take your pancakes."
"Apple sounds wonderful, thank you." Heidi released a long sigh.
