by Nikki Chase
“You were the wild card. I wasn’t sure what to expect from you. But damn, that posole you made blew me away. And I couldn’t deny that you had a certain something about you. Beauty, brains, ambition—you’re not afraid of hard work. You don’t wilt under criticism. You were the answer to a question I didn’t even know I was asking. And I almost ruined everything because I was too afraid to let go.
“I’m a control freak, I admit it. After getting screwed over in L.A., I vowed never to let anyone take over my work for me. I made the decision that if I wanted something done right, I’d do it myself. I never imagined I’d find anyone I could trust again. But . . . here you are.
“And damn it, I almost lost you once, and that was more than enough to prove to me how important you are. You are my number one priority now. I swear. And if you will please find it in your heart to forgive me, I’m going to do everything in my power to keep you, Claire,” Ben declares firmly.
I smile warmly, feeling overwhelmed with happiness despite the pain I’m feeling from the accident. “So does this mean that from here on out, we have no secrets? Does it mean you’re going to let me into your world for real this time and stop pushing me away? Stop making decisions without consulting me first?”
He nods fervently. “Yes. Absolutely. I swear.”
“Good. Then kiss me,” I tell him, grinning.
Ben nearly knocks over his chair in his hurry to stand up and lean in to kiss me softly on the lips. When he pulls back, I can’t help but make a joke to ease the heavy atmosphere.
“Damn, Ben. You might want to think about that shower soon,” I tease him with a wink.
He bursts out laughing, both of us utterly ecstatic.
Ben
After a few days of rest in the hospital, a nurse is wheeling Claire out the front door with me at her side and our parents close at my heels.
The nurse parks the wheelchair, and I reach down and take Claire’s hand, slowly helping her up to her feet. The nurse takes the wheelchair back inside as her parents give a half-serious cheer.
“Alright, I think I’ve got a handle on things from here,” I tell our parents, who give me kind nods. “Thanks for being here, all of you.”
“Thank you for taking care of her,” Claire’s mom says, and I smile down at Claire lovingly.
“I’m not quite done yet, I think some spoiling is in order.”
Claire laughs at that, and we wave off our parents before heading to the car.
“So, what does ‘spoiling’ mean to you?” she asks playfully as I open the car door and help her in, even though she definitely doesn’t need it by now.
“Everything you want it to mean, of course,” I say with a wink, and I shut her into the car.
Less than an hour later, I’m fiddling with the lock to my apartment while pressing my phone between my shoulder and my face, waiting for someone at Ocotillo to pick up. Just as my door pops open and I let Claire in—still holding her hand—someone answers.
“Ah, Nathan, good, you’re just the one I wanted to talk to,” I say to one of my more experienced hosts as I shut the door behind us and lead Claire to a couch inside. “Anything on fire over there? How have things been?”
While Nathan gives a brief report, I make my way into the kitchen and start taking out broth, some raw chicken, a cutting board, and some star pasta, along with a large pot and any seasonings that look good off my spice rack.
“Great,” I say when he’s finally finished. “Good to hear. So, I’ll just be quick about this. You’re getting a promotion. I’m taking a few days off from work to help a certain someone recover,” I say with a wink back to the living room at Claire, who’s looking at me with a surprised face. “That means I need someone to be me while I’m gone. Yes, I’m sure. And yes, you’re qualified for the job. I’ll send you some of the details later this evening, including your pay increase, but for now, I need you to listen carefully, because I’ve got a handful of things I need to explain to you about running the place in my stead.”
I spend the next ten minutes chatting to Nathan over the phone while working in the kitchen. I slip off my blazer and shoes and roll up my sleeves to my thick forearms as I start preparing a hearty chicken soup, as rich and thick as I always make it for myself. Whenever I think about adding an ingredient that might be a little controversial, I carry it out to the living room—phone still at my head—and wave it for Claire to see.
A confused yet giggling Claire then gives me either a thumbs up or down depending on whether she likes it, and I give her a grin before disappearing back into the kitchen.
“Alright, that should be everything,” I say at last, both to Nathan and to myself as I watch the simmering soup get steady and step back to let it do its thing for a few minutes. “Text or call if you have any questions. Oh, and do me a solid and order six boxes of doughnuts on the company card for tonight. Tell the staff it’s an apology from me, and there’s more to come.”
I turn the phone off at last, and I take a deep breath as I make my way out to Claire, who has been watching me patiently this whole time.
“There’s that,” I say, putting my hands on my hips and looking down at her with a smile.
“That was a lot of delegating,” she says, impressed.
“I’ve got a lot of very important work that needs my attention,” I reply with a smile.
I reach down to gently turn Claire back around, standing behind her seat on the couch and putting my hands to her shoulders. I start to massage them gently, careful not to hurt any muscles that might still be sensitive after the crash. But as I work her shoulders and move up and down her neck, the soft groan and broad smile on Claire’s face tells me that all of this is good territory.
She turns her head up to keep looking at me upside-down, clear blue eyes twinkling at me playfully. “Are you sure, though?”
“About what?”
“About taking a few days off from the restaurant you’ve been pouring your heart and soul into for months, obviously.”
“For you?” I say, giving her a smug smile. “I’d take off a year.”
“Yeah, except I totally don’t need that,” she points out, smiling right back at me.
“You totally don’t,” I admit, rolling my eyes. “But I totally want to spoil you, because I’ve totally been an asshole and owe you something back and more.”
She doesn’t look entirely convinced, but finally, she gives a contented sigh. “I suppose I can be okay with that.”
“Good,” I say, leaving her shoulders and heading back to the kitchen, “because I would hate to waste all this chicken soup on myself.”
“How much does a restaurateur actually cook for other people?” she asks.
“Not nearly enough,” I admit, “but I hope just being close to you let a little of your good cooking rub off on me.” I serve up a couple of bowls and carry them over to the couch, setting mine on the table on a napkin and sitting back with hers. “Besides, honestly, it’s chicken soup. If I screw up chicken soup, I think I’m legally obliged to sign my restaurants over to someone more competent.”
She laughs at that, and I blow on the bowl of soup to cool it off a little.
“Wait, which one is—” she starts to ask, gesturing between our bowls, but I answer for her by taking a spoonful of her soup and holding it out for her. She flutters her eyelashes, perplexed, then laughs. “You can’t be serious.”
I raise my eyebrows and move the spoon a little closer to her mouth. I will not be deterred.
She laughs again, blushing, and she tries to turn her face away while fighting back a smile, but when the spoon is so close she can smell the soup, she laughs and accepts the bite.
I feed her soup through more laughing protests until the bowl is half gone.
Finally, she wrestles the bowl from my hands and takes it for herself, telling me I need to start eating mine before it gets cold. I gracefully accept, and we cuddle close together as we eat the hot soup with each other’s warmth as
company.
“This is really good, by the way,” she says.
“Chicken soup restaurant is next in line,” I joke.
“Really, though, I don’t want you to go out of your way just for me,” she says, looking over at me with a warm expression. “I know the restaurant means everything to you.”
“You mean everything to me,” I correct her, nudging her with my elbow and cuddling closer. “Claire, when you got hit by that car, I saw a hundred different terrible, terrible outcomes. In that moment, I realized there was a good chance I wasn’t going to get to see the rest of our lives together. That was the most terrifying moment I’ve ever gone through.”
She has stopped eating, and I stop too. We look at each other, neither of us wanting to spoil the good mood, but it needs to be said.
“I love you, Claire,” I say, “and I don’t want to miss out on a second of your life just because of some work that I could easily spread out among other people. I want as much of my life to overlap with yours as possible.”
Her eyes glassy with tears, she leans in to kiss me on the lips. We linger against each other for a few seconds. We break away, but then she presses another kiss to me.
I hear the sound of ceramic on wood, and I see she has set her bowl on the table. Her hands, now free, move up my thighs. I smile into the kiss, knowing where she’s going with this, and I desperately want it, but . . .
I stop her, gently taking her hands and squeezing them, breaking the kiss.
“Okay, I know I did say I was going to listen to you more from now on,” I say as she gives me a confused look. “But . . . doctor’s orders were that you take it easy for a little while longer, and I think I need to side with medicine for now.”
She sticks out a lip to pout, making me chuckle from how adorable she looks. I kiss her on the cheek until she’s giggling.
“Don’t worry,” I say, growling into her ear in a low, husky tone. “You’d better not think for a second that I won’t make up for it.”
Claire
“Hey there, Miss Danger, how are you feeling today?” Tessa asks in a jaunty voice when I pick up the phone from the bedside table and slide it open.
I snort at the little title she’s given me and roll my eyes, leaning back against the pillows stacked behind me in Ben’s bed.
“Miss Danger? Really? It’s not like I intentionally drove into a pole,” I chuckle.
“I know, I know, but it’s still pretty badass that you survived it. People die in less dramatic car wrecks all the time, you know,” she says matter-of-factly.
“Thanks for the grim reminder, Tess,” I laugh. “I’ll try really hard not to fixate on that lovely statistic when I finally recover to the point of being able to drive again.”
“You’re going to drive again after what happened?” she gasps. “You couldn’t get me behind a steering wheel ever again for a million dollars if I was in an accident like that. I’d be scarred for life. So scary.”
“Well, you say that now, but trust me, after being in the hospital for a while and now being on bed rest for a couple weeks, I’m more than ready to get out of the house and go somewhere. Literally anywhere at all. I’ve been fantasizing about going to a coffee shop for a latte or even just doing some routine grocery shopping. It’s that bad.
“I’m not used to sitting around doing nothing. Usually, I’m so busy I hardly have time to sleep, much less lounge around the house all day like an invalid. I’m so bored, Tess. I must have watched every episode of Wheel of Fortune ever recorded by now,” I groan.
She giggles. “Not going to lie, that actually sounds pretty amazing to me. Just lying in bed, watching game show re-runs, having a sexy man dote on you and fulfil your every need. I’d love to boss my husband around for a bit,” she sighs wistfully.
“Yeah, I mean, I am definitely grateful to have Ben around to take care of me. He’s at work a lot, but whenever he’s home, it’s like he wants to make up for lost time. He treats me so well. I’m really spoiled here with him,” I gush, my mouth forming a happy grin that Tessa can probably hear over the phone from all the way in Denver.
“Good! You deserve a break, girl. Even before the accident, you were working your butt off.” Half-jokingly, she adds, “Ooh, what if this accident is just fate intervening to force you to take some time off?”
I can’t help but laugh. “Well, if that’s the case, I sure wish fate could have found a less painful way to make that statement. I’m healing up nicely, but it still hurts.”
“You’ll get there. Just be patient,” she advises.
“I’m certainly trying. But patience is, um, not my forte,” I admit with a chuckle.
“I know, hon. But you’ve got to heal so you can get right back in the saddle again. Oh, and speaking of bed rest, by the way,” Tess begins cryptically, “I have some news for you.”
“Uh oh. What’s going on?” I inquire curiously.
“Don’t worry. It’s good news!” she exclaims, and this time I’m the one who can hear her grinning through the phone. “I’m pregnant again!”
I gasp. “Oh my God. Tessa, that’s great! Congratulations!”
“Thank you, thank you. I’m pretty excited about it. Luke and I have been trying for a while, so it’s really the answer to our prayers. We want a big family, and this brings us one step closer to our dream,” she says.
“How far along are you? Can you, you know, feel it yet?” I ask.
“Not quite yet. But soon, I think. I’m already starting to crave pickles and peanut butter again, just like with the last pregnancy. Of course, that may just be my own gross craving and have nothing to do with the baby,” she says, laughing. “You should totally come visit sometime, soon! I would love to catch up and hang out in person. You know, once you’re able to move around and stuff more easily.”
“Oh, definitely. I’m dying to see you guys and the little one. Ben and I both work so hard, but we’re trying to be better about remembering to take a break now and again. So, yes, a visit would be a great idea!” I tell her enthusiastically.
“Yay! And of course, you should bring Ben. I can’t wait to meet him. And thank him for taking such good care of my best friend,” Tessa says warmly. I hear what sounds like a soft, whiny voice in the background and Tessa adds, “Oh! Looks like Kayleigh just woke up from her nap. I better go check on her before she starts wailing. Can I call you back tonight after she’s gone off to bed?”
“Yeah, sure! Of course,” I reply. “Tell Kayleigh that Auntie Claire says hi.”
“I will. She’ll love that. Bye!” my friend chirps brightly.
“Later, Tess,” I say, hanging up.
With a happy sigh, I glance over at the clock on the bedside table.
It’s still only mid-afternoon. I have hours to wait until Ben gets home from work.
I decide that the fastest way to make the time go by is to take a nap, so I carefully slide down under the sheets and watch daytime soap operas until I drift off to sleep.
The sun has already gone down by the time I wake up to the soft, gentle prodding of the man I love. I’m still wrapped up in the sheets, loopy and hazy.
At first, I don’t even notice Ben is here, because he’s creeping up from the end of the bed so slowly. When I see him, I burst out laughing in surprise and he chuckles, leaning forward to kiss me on the lips, his hand cupping my cheek.
“How was your day, babe?” he asks, sitting next to me and stroking my hair.
I shrug. “Ah, it was good. Boring, mostly. I sat here watching TV like the doctor ordered. Oh! And I got a call from Tessa earlier. She told me she’s pregnant again.”
His eyebrows arch in surprise. “Wow, really? That’s a big deal.”
I nod and reply, “Yeah, she’s really excited about it. She and her husband Luke want a big family, so it all makes sense. Her day sounded much more riveting than mine, just sitting here. It feels weird, not being busy.”
“I know what you mean. I always feel so restle
ss when I’m not working. Or at least, I used to feel that way. But now, I find myself kind of wishing the work days would go a little faster. I’m sure you can probably guess why,” Ben insinuates, giving me a wink.
I giggle and reach up for him, taking his hand and tugging him down to the bed.
“Well, you know . . . it’s been long enough that we don’t need to worry about that anymore,” I say with a smile I’ve been waiting all day to give him.
He raises his eyebrows and stares at me, scanning me from head to toe. “Wait, are you sure?”
“If I wasn’t,” I say, holding his eyes captive while I slowly undo his belt and slide his pants down. “I wouldn’t be doing this.”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says gently despite the fire burning in his eyes.
My heart is pounding. I’ve waited long enough. We’ve waited long enough.
“Then we’ll be gentle,” I assure him with a smirk, and I guide him onto the bed.
His clothes come off and his cock springs forth. It’s already stiff and ready, probably swelling up from the moment I touched his hand. The effect I have on Ben is something I’ll never get tired of.
I get on my knees on the bed while he sits back. I lick my lips, staring down at his impressive cock before I open my mouth and take him between my lips.
My tongue brushes against his velvety head as I massage his shaft with my hand. It’s like we never took a break from being intimate.
I don’t care about waiting anymore. I need this, and he sure as hell needs this. It doesn’t take long before I feel his cock pulse against my tongue. I get bolder, going further down his shaft and feeling more of him in my mouth.
He grips the sheets and groans, the thick sound coming from his chest urging me on. I work my tongue along the underside of his cock until I feel his crown touching the back of my throat. I work past the natural resistance of my body, working him up and down with my lips tight around his cock. Then there’s no room for my hand on his shaft anymore, and I start playing with his balls too.
