I take a deep breath and look down. Frustration taking over me. Frustrated he won’t give me a real answer. Frustrated he’s here. I sigh. Frustrated that I don’t want him to leave. Looking back into his eyes, they soften as I see he’s trying to read my thoughts.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asks softly.
I bite my lip, tears stinging my eyes, unsure how to answer. Sure, I could call him out on it. Tell him I know about his girlfriend and make things totally awkward between us or I could let it slide, be friends with the man and have fun. Well, not the kind of fun I normally have, but just enjoy his company for the next few months. I mean, after the wedding in September, our encounters will surely dwindle away. Too afraid to speak, I slowly shake my head. Bentley’s right hand squeezes my hip while the other cradles my cheek.
“Let me finish mowing and then I’ll fix you breakfast,” he says and presses his lips to my forehead.
My arms move around his body and we stand in my driveway in a tense embrace. His light chest hair brushes my cheek as I lean my head against his chest. His hands move up and down my back slowly. This feels so comfortable, like I’m meant to be here in his arms. Confident that the tears are gone since I got my sweet Bentley fix that I needed, I lean back wiping my wet cheek from his sweaty chest.
“Yuck!” I say, scrunching up my nose.
I smile as I hear his deep chuckle, falling back into that vulnerable spot I know I should stay away from. “You hugged me, that’s all I’m saying,” he says, holding up his hands.
Shaking my head and laughing, it hits me that I don’t have any breakfast food in my house other than a box of Pop-Tarts. “Umm… breakfast might be a little tough, I need to go grocery shopping,” I admit. Not to mention that I still shop like a college student living on Ramen noodles and Red Bull.
Taking my chin in his fingers, his dimple appears again and he reassures me, “No worries, Jules. I brought some stuff over in my cooler.”
He walks back to the mower and pulls the cord making it roar back to life. Bentley makes a couple of passes in the grass and I watch him like a lovestruck teenager until I realize I’m still standing in my driveway in my underwear. Glancing up, Bentley meets my eyes and gives me a wink. My body thunders at this simple gesture and I head inside before my neighbors see me in my skivvies.
Safely in my bedroom, I pick up my jeans I wore last night and fish out my phone. Hitting my ICE contact, I wait for Paulie to pick up as I pace back and forth. It’s the fourth ring when he finally answers.
“Good morning, Julianna,” he says and I know he was waiting on me to call.
“Why is Bentley mowing my grass… at seven in the morning?”
“It was getting long,” he says with a laugh. I let out a scream, forgetting about my dull headache and making my brother laugh more. “Relax, Jules. He found out I was going to do it today and offered to take care of it for me.”
Mmhmm, like I believe that. “You never mow my yard in the morning.”
He laughs and I hear Bri talking in the background. “Yeah, well, I received some pictures last night and figured you might need an early morning wake-up call. I gotta go, Jules. Call me if you need anything.”
I toss the phone on the bed and lay back, a smile spreading across my face. As much as I was trying to avoid him, I can’t deny that I’m glad he sought me out. It’s my summer, no work, no school, and I should be living it up, but for some reason, a reason named Bentley, I haven’t gotten back in the dating scene ever since Kevin and I broke up. Maybe Emmy wasn’t his girlfriend… or maybe she was, I don’t know, but I’m going to stop fighting him and just let it happen.
Excited to face the day with Bentley, I take a quick shower and throw on something more than just my nightwear. Following the scent of bacon, I walk to the kitchen in a worn, fitted Cardinals shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. My hair, still damp, hangs over my shoulders. With a loud growl, my stomach greets the chef before I can.
Cracking eggs into a bowl, Bentley turns his head and lifts his eyebrow. With a laugh, he says, “Guess you’re hungry?”
Red creeping over my face, I shrug. “Maybe a little.”
Wiping his hands on a dish towel, he walks over and takes my hand leading me to the kitchen table. Then he moves to his cooler sitting by the stairs and pulls out a can of Coke. Popping the top, he sets it in front of me.
“Heard through the grapevine that you’re not much of a coffee drinker. Sip this and it should help your hangover,” he instructs before turning back to finish cooking. “Greasy bacon and eggs will be done in a few minutes to help cure it, too.”
I pull my knee up to my chest as I sip the soda and watch him move around my kitchen. Wearing tan cargo shorts and a t-shirt with the sides cut down to the waistband, I can still enjoy that sculpted back of his. He whistles while the bacon sizzles in the skillet and he scrambles the eggs. This is the most action my kitchen has ever seen since I’ve lived here.
“Let me guess…Florida Georgia Line?” I comment with a quirked eyebrow.
Glancing over his shoulder, he nods with a grin. “You’re a fast learner,” he says and places a plate of deliciousness in front of me.
“Mmm…” I moan and dig in. My stomach grumbles its appreciation as well, which allows me to see Bentley’s dimple again. This is definitely the best hangover cure I’ve ever had.
I’ve already inhaled my plate while Bentley sits across the table chewing on a piece of bacon. As I reach for another piece, I notice him watching me closely and I start to pull back my hand. His fingers pick up the last piece of pork and he hands it to me.
“Ready to tell me why I haven’t seen you in a month?”
I shove the bacon in my mouth to stall as my cheeks burn up. Chewing as slow as I possibly can, thoughts run wild in my mind and I’m too hungover to even come up with a lame excuse. His hand slides across the table and takes mine in his, interlocking our fingers. He gently pulls my hand and I stand up, walking around the table and he drags me into his lap.
“I’m not sure what I did to scare you off, but next time let me know because the last thing I want is to send you running,” he says as he pushes my hair out of my face.
If the words had been spoken by any other man, I would’ve already been gone. My stomach flip flops as I inhale his woodsy scent and nod.
“I really like you, Jules,” he says confidently, not taking his eyes off me although I’m trying my best to avert my eyes.
Swallowing hard, I look up into his dark eyes. “I like you, too, but I think for the sake of the wedding, we should just be friends.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, it’s like someone is punching me in the stomach.
Unwavered by my statement and it’s implication, Bentley nods and puts his hand on my cheek that I lean into way too easily. “Friends it is then,” he says softly, his thumb rubbing back and forth on my cheekbone.
We’ve both agreed, but why do I feel like we’re going to end up as so much more than friends? Part of that thought is exciting, while the other part scares me more than anything.
***
I just got handed the friends’ card yet she’s sitting in my lap. Her soft, delicate skin presses against my hand and I take a deep breath, inhaling the hint of jasmine from her shampoo. I lean my forehead against hers, not wanting it to end anytime soon. She makes the sweetest sound as she sighs and I rest one hand on her thigh.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” Jules asks out of the clear blue.
The question shocks me, making my stomach drop, and I hesitate briefly, not sure how to answer. Quickly hiding any emotion, I lean back to look in her eyes. My fingers push through her hair. “Julianna, you’re the only girl friend I have right now.”
She bites on her lip nervously as I anxiously await to see if she buys my response. A few seconds later, she leans forward, wrapping her arms around me tightly and I feel her body relax. Guilt burns my stomach but this feels right, her in my arms and not a care in the world. Besides,
she just wants to be friends… for now.
Chapter 14
Somehow “just friends” morphed into Bentley and I spending every free moment we have together. In the past month, I’ve learned how to bait my own gummy worm, load a twenty-two, and I know every word to all the Florida Georgia Line songs. Likewise, Bentley’s crafting skills have improved thanks to the Pioneer Woman and he’s learned the difference between Vera Bradley and Vera Wang.
We both hum along with the radio as I sit on the tailgate of his truck and he packs up the tackle box. Tucking away the last bobber, Bentley shuts the lid and hops up to sit beside me. His left hand takes mine and I lean into his bare chest as the song ends. This is the gray part of the “just friends” agreement. He hasn’t kissed me, Lord knows I want him to, but he’s respecting the boundaries I’ve set… kind of. Apparently, we’re the type of friends that kiss each other on the cheek, neck, shoulder, forehead, anywhere but the mouth or other naughty places, not to mention the regular hand holding and cuddling.
“I’ll be out at the fair all next week,” Bentley says into my hair.
He’s been telling me about the county fair where he volunteers. He camps out there for an entire week which means I’ll be alone for the first time since we reconciled. It makes me sadder than I want to admit. I thought if we were “just friends,” I wouldn’t get so attached, but I know I’m in way too deep. As though he can read my thoughts, he runs his finger under my chin and lifts my face up to look at him.
“Hey, don’t be so upset. You’re going to come out and see me, right?”
Smiling, I nod. “Of course!”
He pats my leg. “Good, that’s what I want to hear.”
The sky turns a blend of orange and red as the sun sets behind the lake.
“Jules…”
“Yeah?” I ask looking into his coffee colored eyes.
His hand moves to my hair, pulling it out of the ponytail and letting it fall around my shoulders as our eyes stay locked. He leans in toward me and I lick my bottom lip in anticipation, my heart pounding against my chest.
“Bentley! Jules! Time for dinner!” Mrs. Ladner yells from the top of the hill.
Leaning his forehead against mine, he starts laughing and I smile. I give him a quick peck on the cheek and jump off the tailgate. He swats my backside, still laughing as we both crawl into the lifted Ford. A familiar tune fills the cab and I sing along with the boys on the radio. It’s a short drive to the house and Bentley cuts the engine, but I keep singing along. Grinning over at me, he leans over and kisses my cheek.
“You really like them now, don’t you?”
Nodding as I finish the song, he takes my hand. “How about I take you to the concert next month? Bri and J.P. can go with us… a double date if you will.”
My eyes light up and I nod excitedly, moving across the cab to give him a hug. He pulls me close, neither of us letting go. I take in a deep whiff of his sweaty, woodsy scent. Softly, I whisper, “Friends don’t go on double dates.”
Bentley’s fingers wind through my hair and he gently pulls my head so that’s we’re eye to eye. “Julianna, I think it’s safe to say we aren’t friends.”
Tingles flood through my body and my stomach jumps at his words, but it’s when his lips touch mine that I melt into him. No, Bentley Ladner and I are not just friends.
The next week, a much welcomed cold front has hit Missouri making the evening time in July perfect. Sitting in a golf cart, my feet kicked up on the dashboard, I sip a cold beer as I stay warm in a pair of old jeans and one of Bentley’s Mizzou sweatshirts. I’m drowning in the material, but I couldn’t care less because I’m fully encompassed by Bentley and his scent.
In the twilight of the night, the only light is from the flood lights strategically placed around the lower parking lot at the fairgrounds. Bentley stands in the middle of the road looking sexy as ever in cowboy boots, tight, hug-your-buns dark denim jeans, and a navy and white plaid button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up as he waves a bright orange flag directing cars where to park. It’s been amusing to watch women from every age group flirt with him as they get out of their car. Of course, being the true gentleman that he is, Bentley gives each of them a wink and tells them to have a good time.
Although I easily could, I don’t get to spend the entire evening just watching Bentley. I’m in charge of driving the elderly and families with little kids up the hill in the golf cart. It’s even more amusing to listen to the grandmas say how cute he is, but it’s most entertaining when the wives tell their husbands. It’s late in the evening and we’re just waiting for the lot to fill so we can abandon our posts. Lost in my thoughts and Bentley’s hotness, I don’t realize he’s calling my name.
“Jules. Jules! Julianna!” he yells, waving his flag to get my attention.
Startled, I jump up out of the cart and walk toward him. He laughs at my reaction and when I’m within arm’s reach, he extends his arm and pulls me to him. Smiling down at me, he gently presses his lips on mine and I melt into his mouth as our tongues roll against each other’s. Slowly, he pulls away, but keeps his arm around my waist. Needless to say, I’ve really enjoyed the last week of kissing Bentley.
“We’re just about done. Once we close the lot, we’ll go enjoy some rides and I’ll even get you some cotton candy,” he says with a wink and I giggle.
Twenty minutes later, Bentley and I are mindlessly wandering through the crowds of people. His hand is stuck in my back pocket to keep us from getting separated while I devour the sweet, sticky deliciousness of my cotton candy. Bentley grabs a piece with one hand and with the other, he takes my hand and pulls me to walk faster.
“Come on! We can get on next,” he says urgently.
I look up and looming before us is the ferris wheel at least fifty feet tall. My heart begins to race and despite the light breeze, I can feel sweat beads forming on my forehead. I try to stop us, but Bentley’s too focused on getting on the next cart. As he takes the steps up to get on, I drop his hand and stand in place.
Looking back at me confused, he asks, “What’s wrong?”
Trying to talk in a steady voice, I slowly admit, “I’m afraid of heights.”
Taking the two steps back to ground level, his calloused hands cup my face and he looks into my eyes. The chatter of the people around us and the carnies yelling for people to “Step right up!” all fades into the background. Bentley speaks softly when he says, “Julianna, I won’t let you get hurt. Trust me.”
My stomach flip flops, not at the carnival ride in front of me, but at his words. I love the way he says my full name and when he says he won’t let me get hurt, I know he means more than just my fear of heights. I one hundred percent trust him so I take his hand and let him guide me onto the unsteady ferris wheel.
This is a little bit better than the Arch since it’s not enclosed, but I still think I might puke. The carnie slams the door closed, making the cart wobble and my hand moves to Bentley’s thigh. As the ride starts and we slowly move higher, I start to tighten my grip on his leg, but then remember Kevin’s reaction and pull my hand back.
Bentley moves one arm around my shoulders, pulling me to him. When he notices my hand moving off his leg, his free hand takes mine and laces our fingers together. Feeling his body against mine only slightly takes the edge off. I glance over the edge and gasp. My breathing quickens and I start to get dizzy. Bentley quickly moves his hands to my face and makes me look at him.
“It’s okay, Jules. Talk to me,” he says.
My eyes dart from side to side, looking at the ground too far below us. Bentley’s fingers tighten on my chin, forcing me to look back at him.
“How do you like your eggs?” he asks.
I hear his words, but my brain doesn’t comprehend them. My chest heaves up and down as I start to panic even more. Then, out of nowhere, Bentley’s lips crush mine taking me by complete surprise. He tongue is strong as it moves along my lips, forcing me to open my mouth and let him in. I c
lose my eyes and focus on the kiss. I’m actually enjoying it as a moan slips out and the ride jerks to a stop, sending us teetering back and forth. I don’t have time to look down or panic as Bentley pulls his mouth away, but keeps his hands firmly on both of my cheeks.
“I like mine over medium. You know, hard on top, runny on the inside. What about you?” he asks as though we aren’t just dangling fifty feet above the Earth.
Taking a deep breath, I nod and answer in a shaky voice, “Scrambled.”
“Mmm, I like that, too. With salsa?”
I quirk an eyebrow. “Salsa?” I’ve never heard of anyone ever eating scrambled eggs with salsa, the idea is completely foreign to me.
He nods. “Oh yeah, it’s the best. Adds just a little bit of flavor to your eggs. Oh, and if you have scrambled eggs then you gotta have cheese. Right?”
“Wait a minute, you seriously put salsa on your eggs? That is so weird!” I exclaim, still trying to wrap my head around this idea. Salsa is not a part of the breakfast food group.
“It’s not weird! It’s got peppers and tomatoes in it so it’s like adding vegetables to your first meal of the day. It’s actually quite ingenious if you think about it,” he says with a smirk, extremely proud of himself.
I laugh as I playfully pinch him and he pulls me in for another kiss. The ride starts up and our teeth hit each other. I pull away nervously, my heart racing again. For a brief moment while we were stopped, Bentley actually had me forget how high off the ground we were. The ride starts to descend and I bury my head in his shoulder. His large hands rub up and down my back.
“Did you have a dog growing up?” he asks.
My stomach lurches and I nuzzle my face harder against his chest. I’d rather talk about eggs. His kisses my forehead softly, understanding I don’t want to talk about furry animals.
“Okay, what about you and J.P. Tell me about the two of you.”
I snuggle my face into him again, not wanting to talk about that either. I take a deep breath and inhale his woodsy cologne mixed with the blueberry cotton candy we were eating. He pulls my legs over his so I’m almost sitting on his lap with his arms wrapped around my waist.
Spring Into Love Page 101
