by Layla Hagen
The problem when it comes to Christopher is that I can't get enough of him no matter how often I see him. He seemed excited back when we made plans for the weekend, but what if he's not on the same page as me? My stomach constricts as I rewind our earlier conversation in my mind, searching for signs that he didn't want my company until dinner. I can't find any. He seemed genuinely excited when I told him I wanted to spend the day with him.
I'm being silly and overthinking things. Christopher has been very upfront with me until now. There's no reason to mistrust him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Victoria
When I arrive at the address Christopher gave me, the double gates at the front of the property are open. Behind them is a thick patch of trees, almost a small forest. I drive along until the woods spill into a large clearing. The Bennett home stands at the other end of the clearing, a proud three-story house. It's simple, yet beautiful. The facade is the color of vanilla, but the red roof gives it a vibrant appearance.
I pull my car next to the four others. After climbing out, I head to the four men surrounded by construction tools and materials near the house. I'll be damned, but the Bennett men are a sight for sore eyes. They're all over six feet, with a robust build, strong but lean, not bulky. They also share the same dark shade of hair. Christopher is the best-looking one, of course, but I dearly hope all of them will go on and have as many kids as possible. Such good genes must be spread around.
"Here's your girl, Christopher," one of them says, stretching out his hand to me. "I'm Blake."
“And these are my older brothers, Sebastian and Logan,” Christopher explains.
I shake hands with Sebastian and Logan next.
"I brought everyone cookies," I announce, fishing the Tupperware container out of my bag. Blake relieves me of it immediately. I peer behind them at the gazebo they’re building. They don't seem to have gotten very far.
"What's the trouble with the gazebo?"
Sebastian picks up an instruction notebook from the floor, handing it to me.
"These instructions are a deathtrap."
I scan them with attention, and while they’re not straightforward, they aren't overly complex either.
"Are you sure you followed these?" I ask carefully. The four men exchange glances.
"Not in the beginning," Logan answers. "I mean, we've built enough stuff before."
Ooooh, I recognize this. Mom dubbed it the caveman syndrome, in which a man relies on his gut and refuses to follow instructions, whether it’s for building something or finding an address, as if that somehow diminishes his masculinity. Dad did it all the time. We got lost on more trips than I can count because of his infallible orientation sense.
"Right," I say. "Well, from now on, you'll follow the instructions."
"You can translate them?" Blake asks.
"Yep."
Blake positively glows, munching on a cookie. "You make great cookies, and you know how to read instructions? Darling, if Christopher won't do, you can always marry me."
"Oh my. If I knew I'd get proposed to today, I would have dressed up for the occasion." I let out an exaggerated giggle, and Christopher instantly steps next to me, curling an arm around my waist.
"This one's very territorial." I point with my thumb to Christopher.
"Blake, you seem a little desperate of late," Sebastian remarks. "Why don't you find a girl for yourself?"
"We should put Pippa on your case," Logan says solemnly. "Looking at Christopher and Victoria here, it's clear our sister hasn't lost her touch."
Christopher gives an almost imperceptible wince.
"What do you mean?" I ask. Sebastian, Logan, and Blake exchange glances, all three men on the verge of laughter.
"Someone's got to fess up," Sebastian says. "I'll give you the cliff notes. Our dearest sister likes to think of herself as the family's matchmaker. She gave us a much-needed push."
"You too? You never told me that.” I take a step back, focusing on my man. He stares at his brothers as if he's considering what the most painful torture method would be. When he notices me watching him, his murderous expression morphs into a sheepish smile. Sheepish! I didn't think Christopher could even do sheepish.
"Yeah… well… when you worked for Pippa, she thought we'd be a good match."
"I see. Did she give you any pointers?"
"No."
"You're lying."
"Well, Alice did. She told me your favorite ice cream flavor."
"Ah!" I open my mouth theatrically. "And I thought that was a sign that we're meant for each other. Damn!"
"I like her," Logan whispers to Sebastian. I wink at Christopher's brothers.
"Anything else to confess?" I inquire.
Christopher doesn't miss a beat. "No."
"Is your name really Christopher Bennett? Just checking."
"You know, a few years ago that would have been a legitimate question," Blake says. "Max did steal his girl once when they were sixteen."
It takes me a split second to understand what he means. Max and Christopher are identical twins.
"Why didn't I know this?" I ask in amazement.
"I was hoping to keep my last shreds of pride," Christopher says.
"I'm here to kill that hope any time," Blake says. "You just have to ask."
"I wasn't asking," Christopher retorts.
"Blake!" I clap his shoulder, or rather his upper arm because he's so tall. "I think you're my new best friend."
He nods. "I have a favor to ask. For the sake of our friendship and out of consideration for the single people around here—"
"You mean yourself," Sebastian says with a grin. Blake cocks a brow.
"You will refrain from making puppy dog eyes at each other and kissing noises. Yeah?"
I tap my chin as if considering this. "So we can kiss if we don't make noises?"
Logan, Sebastian, and Christopher burst out laughing.
"Welcome to the family, Victoria," Logan declares.
We start working on the gazebo, and after a while, Christopher says in a low voice,
"Are you sure you want to stick around for this?"
"Your trouble is my trouble," I say, repeating what he said to me a few nights ago. "Except your trouble is more fun."
"You do have some original romantic lines, don't you?" Christopher asks.
"No, but I'm an excellent copycat."
"Wouldn't have expected this from someone who claims to love mushy stuff like Gone with the Wind."
"Oy," Blake exclaims from behind us. "I forgot to say. Too much cutesy is just as insulting as noisy kissing."
"We should definitely talk to Pippa," I whisper to Christopher.
***
After about an hour, I make a quick trip to my car to bring the second Tupperware container of cookies. When I return, Christopher is alone. Peering past him, I see his brothers entering the house. I observe him in silence. Wearing rugged jeans and a simple shirt, he's a damn sight to behold. Strong hands grip the hammer, expertly maneuvering it. As he turns his head slightly to the side, I admire his three-day beard, perfectly groomed, as always. There's something distinctly manly about him today, and his occasional grunt reminds me of the delicious sounds he makes when loving me. Almost involuntarily, my mind slides toward dangerous—or shall I say dirty—territory, wondering if jumping his bones here is a possibility. Then I remember his brothers are around. The inside of the house later, though…?
"Hey, beautiful," he says, snapping me out of my dirty dream. "What are you doing over there?"
I shrug, interlacing my fingers behind my back. "I wanted to admire you in silence. And then my thoughts spiraled into dirty territory, and I ended up weighing the pros and cons of trying to seduce you here or in the house."
Christopher nods, then he turns back to his work as if I wasn't here at all.
"What are you doing?" I ask, confused.
"Waiting for you to finish weighing those pros and cons and decide
. Personally, I'd add my car as an option too. Plenty of space."
We both burst out laughing, and then I close the distance between us, walking with quick steps until I'm a breath away from him.
"You're unbelievable," I inform him.
"You started it." His grin stretches wider. "I was just trying to be helpful."
Hooking an arm around my waist, he pulls me in for a kiss. His lips move over mine gently, his tongue exploring my mouth expertly until he coaxes a whimper of pleasure out of me. I cup his face with my hands, his rough stubble grazing lightly against the sensitive skin of my palms. He makes it so easy for me to lose myself in him. By the time we pull apart to breathe, my entire body is humming.
"In all fairness," he says in a low, gruff voice, "I'll have to ask you to wait with those dirty plans until we leave."
Disentangling myself from his arms, I take a step back, putting some distance between us, and also assessing the amount of work still necessary. My guess is we'll be here for dinner too.
"Did you grow up here? It's a beautiful house."
"Nah. We grew up on a ranch. My parents sold it and gave the capital to Sebastian to start Bennett Enterprises. Three years ago, it came up for sale, and Sebastian bought it back for them. They turned it into a B&B and spend a lot of time there."
"Wow. You all have a nice relationship with your parents. It reminds me of mine, though my surprises were on the low-end variety. I miss them so much," I find myself saying, and realize I haven't said those words out loud to anyone since they passed away. I was afraid I'd break down if I did, but right now, I just feel an immense sadness engulfing me.
"They'd be really proud of you," he murmurs against my hair, pulling me into his arms again. He simply holds me, and it's perfect, his strength and warmth chasing away the sadness. I love this about him. How strong and stable he is, as if nothing could uproot him.
When I step back, I decide it's time to lighten the mood. "So are you going to work on this, or are you waiting for your brothers to do all the work?"
"I could build the whole thing by myself. At the risk of sounding cocky—"
"No risk. You do sound cocky very often," I state.
He pinches my ass, which has the unexpected effect of turning me on. To hell with it all. Is there anything this man can do that wouldn't set my hormones haywire? I school my features, trying to hide the slightly dubious side effect of his pinching.
"Well, I know what I'm doing."
"I want to help. I can do more than explain the instructions to you guys."
"Are you any good with a hammer and a nail?" He wiggles his eyebrows.
"Are you dirty talking to me right now?" I inquire, just to be sure. His smirk is my answer. I rehearse my reply in my mind, shooting for sexy vixen. "I can learn to use any tools of yours if you show me what to do, Mr. Bennett."
Christopher exhales sharply. Holy bejeezus. My attempt at sexy vixen actually worked.
“I know how to assemble furniture, Christopher. I’ve had to do it for my clients on countless occasions when the people who were supposed to do it botched their job.”
He clears his throat, clearly still thrown off by my sexy vixen moment. "Okay."
As we work together for the next few minutes, the clouds of doubt gather in my mind again. I toy with the idea of not saying anything about it, but I just know I'll drive myself crazy.
"Christopher, it's okay I came by, right?"
He stops midtask, snapping his gaze up to me. By the playful set of his mouth, I can tell he was planning to shoot back a sarcastic answer, but something in my features must alert him that I'm serious because he changes gears, straightening up.
"Of course. Why are you asking?"
I shrug, trying to backpedal, feeling a little foolish. Okay, a lot. "It's just that we've been spending a lot of time together lately, and I was wondering if you need some time for yourself."
Christopher puts his tools down, closing the distance to me. When he's right in front of me, he places a hand on my waist, cupping my cheek with the other one.
"I don't need space."
"Sorry, I'm being silly," I say quickly.
"No, you're not. I want you to talk to me whenever there's something on your mind."
I laugh nervously, biting my lower lip. "Okay."
A gust of wind ruffles my hair and Christopher brushes it away from my face, resting his forehead against mine. "I have a problem, Victoria."
"Hmm?"
"I can't get enough of you."
"Funny, we have the same problem." Butterflies flutter around in my belly, filling me with a giddy happiness.
"I think about you all the time when I'm not with you."
I flatten myself against him, needing to feel him nearer.
"You're an amazing woman. You're funny, loving, loyal. Sometimes I smile to myself like an idiot in my office thinking about you. Once, I completely blanked out during a meeting, but I made it pass as weighing the benefits of Max's proposal. By the way, if my brother mentions it, don't tell him the truth. I'll never live that down."
"I'll keep your secret," I assure him, unable to withhold a smile. The thought of Christopher, wearing his business face and matching cufflinks, losing the thread of his thoughts because of me is delightful.
The air between us is loaded with emotions as we both become aware we're headed toward unchartered territory, with no certainty as to where this will lead.
"I love every minute we spend together. Even when you're against me and make me watch a terrible, awful movie," I begin.
"We really need to work on your taste in movies."
"Shush, you're interrupting my speech."
"Please continue."
"You make me laugh, and you're adorable with my siblings. And you're just strong and big… and I totally didn't mean that in a sexual way," I finish lamely. Completely flustered, I make myself small, resting my head in the crook of his neck. Feeling his pulse against my chin has the unexpected effect of calming me.
"I wouldn't take offense if you did," he says with a chuckle.
"Of course not."
"Look at me, Victoria."
I pull away from him, straightening up so I can see him better. Those eyes, the color of chocolate that I adore so much.
"I've never laid myself bare this way, to anyone," I say honestly.
"Neither have I." He caresses my cheek with the back of his hand, pressing his thumb gently at the corner of my lip. "It never felt right before, but it does now."
A rush of euphoria fills me at his confession, and I rise on my tiptoes to press my lips against his in what is definitely an “I adore you forever’ kiss. The boys return shortly afterward, and there are no more kisses.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Victoria
As I predicted, dinnertime comes and goes, and we're still at his parents’ house. We all hoped that by forgoing a dinner break, we'd finish sooner, but we're all starving. Blake caves in first, threatening to go on a hunger strike if we don't order food. Twenty minutes later, we're wolfing down tacos. Another two hours later, the gazebo is completely done.
Christopher and I drive to his apartment separately since we're both here with our cars. The new plan is for both of us to shower and then go out to explore the city, because we had some after-dinner places we wanted to visit. But once we've showered and changed—I have an overnight bag with me—it's clear we're both bone-tired.
"We can just stay in," I suggest.
"Well, I did have an indoor, nocturnal activity planned."
"You don't say. And what might that be?"
"You'll see. Follow me."
To my surprise, he leads me out of his apartment. We walk down the corridor in the opposite direction to the elevator. I've never been this way. He pushes open a door that leads to a staircase. We climb a flight of stairs and arrive in paradise.
"I completely forgot you had one of those fancy rooftops."
Christopher's building has a veri
table garden on top, with several lounge chairs and cozy sitting areas. There is also a possibility to grill up here. But the pièce de résistance, in my opinion, is the indoor heated pool, surrounded by glass walls so you can swim and have an amazing view at the same time.
"How do you already have access?" I inquire as he lets us in the pool house. When I picked up Christopher's keys, the building management said that it would be another sixty days before the residents would have access to the rooftop.
"I called in some favors for tonight." He offers me a cheeky smile.
"Of course you did. Can we use the pool?"
"Absolutely."
"Why didn't you tell me to bring a swimming suit?"
"That would’ve ruined the surprise."
Tiptoeing around the edge of the pool, I start taking off my clothes. "Underwear it is, then."
“No skinny-dipping?”
“Sorry, not gonna happen. My wild days are behind me.”
Christopher lifts an eyebrow in a silent challenge. Once we’re in our underwear only, we lower ourselves in the water.
"This is amazing," I tell him honestly, walking around in the pool. The water is pleasantly warm and covers me up to my neck. The glass walls around the pool area offer an amazing view. "I can't believe they actually build these things on top of a residential building."
"Why not?" he asks, swimming away.
"Well, it's more difficult. Sorry, just nerdy stuff. I don't want to bore you."
He smiles, swimming to back to me. "Nothing you ever say bores me."
"Aren't you a charmer," I say softly, drinking him in. Taut skin covers his torso, with shapely muscles—lean and strong—showing off just how much he likes to work out. I can barely believe this is my life now. I’m in a heated, indoor pool on a rooftop, with a gorgeous and kind man. What did I do to deserve this?
"I'm actually serious. Intelligent conversation turns me on. It also helps that your bra shifted, so your boobs are practically in my face."
