An Act of Persuasion

by Stephanie Doyle

  Funny, for all the times she’d ever looked at it, she never once thought of her and Ben in the scene. She didn’t see him taking off his shoes and socks and rolling up his trousers to spin her around on the beach. He was far too practical.

  But it never bothered her, his lack of whimsy. She loved his stability instead. Maybe that was why she liked the picture so much. Knowing it was a fantasy and nothing more. She would much rather have the man with the leveler and tape measure in his hand than some flaky guy on a beach without his shoes any day.

  “It’s perfect,” she said as she approached them.

  For the first time as she stood next to him and admired his precision, she wrapped her arm around his waist. She could feel him startle and his muscles tighten, but she didn’t let go.

  Last week following the furniture shopping, she thought she was ready for sex. But after that moment at her door had passed, she hadn’t followed up on initiating the sex. Anna had assumed Ben would press again and when he did, she was prepared to give in. Perhaps it was silly, but she thought it was important that he initiate it when they did finally have sex again. That way there would be no confusing what was happening between them.

  They would both know that he was openly acknowledging he wanted her. Even though he’d said as much to her over these past weeks, his deeds were what counted.

  Only, after days went by and there was no move on his part did she start to understand something she’d never realized before. Ben needed something from her, too. He needed to know, maybe as much as she did, that she wanted him, also.

  It wasn’t like her to make the first physical gesture. To take his hand first, or kiss him without any prompting. But she was coming to understand that if they ever were going to make it to that next step, she needed to show him how she felt.

  He glanced at her and the look on his face was hard to read. Eventually, he relaxed, too, and circled his arm around her, pulling her closer. She leaned her head against his shoulder and she tried to imagine them as a painting. A man with a leveler and a pregnant woman staring at a fantasy that would never be them.

  She liked it.

  “Hey, lady, we’re done.”

  The loud shout from the foyer broke them apart. Anna did a final walk-through with the movers then signed all the necessary paperwork. She had the check ready and a tip in a separate envelope for each of the men, thanking them for all the heavy lifting. Between what had already been delivered by the furniture stores and her personal effects, the house finally felt complete.

  She was home. Her home, with her colors and her taste and her stuff and no one could ever make her leave it.

  Ben had done this. He’d given this to her. Not a possession, or a property but, instead, a lifetime of security.

  She could feel the tears coming and tried some shallow breaths to stop them.

  “Oh, no. Here she goes,” Ben muttered to Mark. “Turns out she’s a pregnant crier.”

  In retaliation Anna offered him a discreet view of a particular finger centered on her hand.

  Mark chuckled. “There are worse things. See you two later. I’m having dinner with Sophie and her grandparents.”

  “Good luck.”

  “I’ll need it. Last time I had dinner with them I got her to speak five words. But only two of those were together. This time I’m going for a record-breaking ten. Maybe even a full sentence.”

  Anna wiped her eyes as Mark left and suddenly the house, which had been a beehive of activity all day, was still.

  “I can’t believe it’s done,” she said, joining Ben once more in the living room. “I can’t believe I’m here.”

  “You’ve spent the past few weeks doing nothing but getting ready for this day. I imagine you’re allowed a sniffle or two.”

  “You’re so generous. Want a final tour?”

  “Of course.”

  She held out her hand and he took it, giving hers a gentle squeeze. She walked him through each room and talked about the colors she’d chosen and what she was trying to accomplish with the furniture. All her dishes and knickknacks were still in boxes, but she had everything labeled and waiting in the appropriate room to be unpacked. It shouldn’t take her more than a day to have all that work done.

  She led him upstairs and took him to the nursery first. She hadn’t yet decided on a crib, but she had found a soft rocking chair that looked like it had been swallowed in pretty soft green pillows.

  Sitting in the chair she rubbed her belly as she pushed her foot against the floor. “I mean I know all those old-fashioned rocking chairs look great, but let’s face it, they’re not very comfortable. If I’m dealing with the fact that this kid will wake me up in the middle of the night, I should at least be comfortable while I’m feeding it, right?”

  Ben nodded. “Sounds like a reasonable theory.”

  “I’m having a mural artist come paint a scene. All the catalogs I’ve looked at show the nursery with fluffy clouds on the ceiling. I’m not sure why the kid wants to think its outside, but whatever. Since I can’t draw a stick figure, I’m leaving it up to the professional. I think we’ll do a blue sky with clouds and then maybe some cartoon animals.”

  “I’ve always been partial to Bambi.”

  “Then when that’s done, I’ll get serious about the furniture. I joined this online new-mommy group and I can’t tell you how much stuff this kid is going to need. Forget the crib, there are, like, a hundred other pieces of equipment it will require, not the least of which is something called a Diaper Genie. You don’t even want to know what that’s all about.”

  She knew she was rambling, but he didn’t seem to mind. He simply leaned against the door with his arms crossed over his chest taking in everything she said.

  “We’ll need two car seats. Everyone says that’s the most practical. To leave one in each of our cars so we’re not always swapping one out. Then there are the carriers—the backpack kind and the newborn baby kind. I don’t necessarily see you wearing one of those sling things, but you could probably make it work. Then there’s all the bags I’ll need to hold all the stuff to cart this kid from point A to point B.”

  “Anna, you’re going to be a good mom.”

  She looked at him. She could see in his expression that he heard the fear in her voice. “How do you know?”

  “You’re one of the most caring people I know. Sometimes you put on a front and act tough, but I know deep down there is soft goo under the act. It’s why you used to scare me so much, I think.”

  “I scared you?”

  “Yep. You were this chaotic mess of light and softness. Sometimes I used to worry if I touched you, I might break you. But then I found out you’re strong, too. Lord knows you could always put me in my place. So strong, in spite of all the soft goo I know fills up your heart. You’ll love this baby and that will make you like a lot of other moms. But you’ll protect this baby with ferocity and that is what will make you a great mom.”

  She smiled and tried to let what he said fill her up so she could really believe it. Because she desperately wanted to. “Every once in a while you say really nice things.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I think, though, that I’m probably going to be scared until the kid gets here and I can prove to myself I’m nothing like my mother. I mean, what if she was like me in the beginning? Buying stuff and painting rooms, looking forward to meeting me and curious about how I’d be. But then when I was born it all changed.”

  Ben looked at his shoes a moment then met her gaze. “You’ve talked about some memories. Ones that weren’t bad. Like the damp cloth on the back of your neck. So she must have cared for you.”

  “Yeah, but watching over me when I was sick sort of gets canceled out by the fact she left me. Why did she do that?”

  Anna rubbed her hands on the mound that was her stomach. It baffled her—she didn’t even know this kid’s name yet and already the idea of being separated from it was like tearing off a limb.

&nbs
p; “Anna—”

  “No, I don’t want to talk about that. Or her. This is my first night in my new home. My forever home. I want it to be a happy one. I want to remember it, always, as the best night ever.”

  “I think I can handle happy. For you, I’m guessing that means pizza with mushrooms and anchovies—which continues to boggle my imagination—and a quart of some type of ice cream you will name at the very last minute.”

  Anna’s stomach rumbled at the mention of pizza. It had been maybe only an hour since she snuck in a peanut butter and banana sandwich, but suddenly she found herself craving something she couldn’t name.

  “Then we can segue from pizza into a movie. Something sappy that will have you in tears, which you will insist are happy tears, whatever the hell those are.”

  No, she didn’t want a movie or pizza or ice cream. Suddenly Anna realized the thing she was ravenous for was him. It was as though a rolling wave of desire slammed on top of her, filtering down from her head to her knees to her toes.

  She wanted him.

  This wasn’t about trying to make them work as a couple. This wasn’t a relationship experiment. This wasn’t some random moment of weakness that they would try to brush under the rug after it happened. It was her, Anna Summers, wanting a man in her bed, wanting to get sweaty and hot with him. Wanting him to touch her. Claim her.

  She scared him. He’d told her so. It was the most romantic thing he could have said because simply knowing that she had the power to make big, bad Ben Tyler afraid made her own fear less powerful. Less controlling.

  “I don’t want the pizza or the ice cream or the movie. Well, maybe the ice cream, but later.”

  “No?”

  She shook her head. “I want something else entirely. I want you.”

  Ben smiled and offered her a hand to help her out of the rocking pillow. She accepted it and let him pull her close until her arms were circling his waist and her round belly was pushing against his.

  “Yeah, I sort of figured that out.”

  “You did, huh?”

  “You’re looking at me like I’m the ice cream.”

  “That’s funny because I do have the word lick on my mind.”

  She felt a vibration flow through his body. “Anna, don’t tease me. I’m on a very short trigger.”

  “No teasing. I want this. I’m ready for it. Really ready this time.”

  He frowned. “You sound like you’re bracing yourself for a dentist visit.”

  She rubbed his chest in a soothing gesture. “No, I’m excited. Nervous, but excited.”

  “You know, we have done this before.”

  “That night was a Dali painting. This will be real. I want it to be different.”

  “I thought we did pretty okay last time.”

  She shook her head, knowing she has having trouble explaining herself. “Last time everything seemed to happen—like it was happening to us. We weren’t thinking. Not really. We were going through the motions without really being aware of one another.”

  He lifted her chin so she could see the truth in his eyes. “You’re wrong. There wasn’t one second I didn’t know who was in my arms, Anna. You were always there. I just didn’t handle the after part correctly.”

  “To be exact, you fell asleep after,” she teased, trying to lighten the intensity she felt from him.

  “And I imagine I will do so again. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll call out your name several times during the act so you’ll know I know who I’m screwing. Now let’s go.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  ANNA SAT ON the bed and watched as Ben shucked his T-shirt and toed off his sneakers. He’d worn shorts in deference to the early September heat and she admired his calves and the muscled bulk of his thighs. Then he lost the shorts and the underwear and she was admiring something else entirely.

  For a moment she took in the sight of him. Tall and lean with corded muscles. His hair had grown in all over his body and she could see that he’d spent time outside without his shirt on this summer because his skin had a nice healthy glow to it. She knew he enjoyed swimming and had probably spent time at his club rebuilding both his endurance and strength.

  Before the cancer, he had been a man who always looked ten years younger than he was. Now, as he recovered, she could see he was returning to form.

  She remembered a time during the first days of his treatment when the impact of the chemo started to make itself known. She’d been kneeling beside him in the bathroom while he’d retched for what felt like hours but was really only minutes. When his stomach finally stopped heaving, he looked at her and she saw the fury in his expression. That his body had betrayed him, that it had brought him to his knees in front of her, his assistant. She remembered thinking that if his cancer was a man, Ben would have killed him.

  Now, he stood in front of her naked, proud and strong. Like a warrior, he’d fought with everything he had. Ben was a man who vanquished his enemy, he never surrendered.

  She should have had more faith in him. When he told her his plan to have the embryonic stem cell transplant, she should have believed more in the power of the man to overcome death. Instead, she’d run scared.

  She wondered if he would ever truly forgive her for that. She could see now why he’d been so hurt. It wasn’t only that she’d left him, it was also that she hadn’t believed in him.

  She should have. She should have believed more in Ben than in the cancer.

  “You’re beautiful,” she whispered. Her very own original work of art.

  “Men aren’t beautiful.” He ran his fingers softly over her cheek. “Your turn.”

  Anna squirmed a bit under his gaze. Now was the time of reckoning. She stood and kicked off her flip-flops. She took off the oversize T-shirt she’d bought as a transitional maternity top.

  Her boobs seemed to pop out and instantly his hands cupped them. “Wow. They’re huge.”

  Anna grumbled. “They’re bigger, they’re not huge.”

  “Anna, we’re talking grapefruits on their way to becoming small cantaloupes.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and instantly he recanted.

  “You’re right. They’re barely there. I can hardly see them. It’s probably the bra.”

  “You’re not making this any easier,” she said tightly. “This is the first time someone is seeing me naked and pregnant. Where before I was only…you know, naked.”

  “I loved you naked. And I’m really liking the start of you pregnant and naked.” He pulled her hands away then slid his hands around her back to unhook the bra. It released its precious weight and slid off her body. The skirt she wore was a stretchy black cotton thing that clung to the belly she no longer could hide from him.

  “I can’t wait to get my hands on this,” he said, pressing his palm to the bulge of her pregnancy. “I didn’t think it would be such a turn-on, but—” He slid his hands inside the skirt and her panties and started to push them down her legs in one inexorable motion until they drooped around her ankles and she kicked them loose.

  He fell to his knees and rested his face on her belly. She could feel the scratch of his late-afternoon beard, but it didn’t bother her. In fact, it made her think of other places on her body where she would like to feel his cheek.

  Sitting back on his haunches, he ran his hands over her bump, as if memorizing each curve, each ripple. He was totally entranced by her body.

  There had been no reason for her to be nervous.

  “Who would have thunk, Ben has a fetish for pregnant women.”

  “I have a fetish for you. Seeing you like this, knowing it’s my child inside you… I never thought… I never thought I would have this moment in my life. Thank you.”

  The sincerity in his eyes made her slightly uncomfortable. She knew she’d been ready to take their relationship to this place for a little while, but, for the first time, Anna considered how this would change things between them.

&
nbsp; Adding sex to the mix would only make the intimacy grow and deepen. She would have to give more and more of herself to him and she would expect more and more of him in return. Only she didn’t know if he had more to give her. It was a big risk for her. Because she didn’t know what would happen after this night. But she sensed—no, worried, deep within—that she would need him even more.

  He stood and nudged her gently onto the bed. She thought about where he might like to be touched and what she should do next, but he didn’t give her much chance to act. With his legs between hers he spread her thighs wide then he bent over her to kiss her mouth, plunging his tongue deep inside her as if he were announcing this kiss as something different. This wasn’t a kiss to claim, or a kiss because it was all she would allow. This kiss was the beginning of sex.

  He moved from her mouth to her neck and began to find spots to nip and lick. Her earlobe, where her neck met her shoulder. Then her nipples. He didn’t give her any lead-up, preliminary kisses or any soft touches. Instead, he sucked a firm nipple between his teeth and pulled deep until she could feel an answering rush of wetness between her legs.

  She thought again about what she read, how hormones and pregnancy could cause horniness, among other things. Irony at its finest, as far as Anna was concerned, that when a woman was her most round, she wanted sex more than ever.

  But she was starting to believe the effects as touch after touch of Ben’s mouth on her body instigated a tidal wave of sensation throughout her. She wondered if he tugged a little harder on her nipples, then she might come from that alone, which had never happened to her.

  It seemed they had only started and already she was running her legs along the outside of his thighs and tilting her hips to touch the hardness that was just out of reach of her body with the way his hands were braced on the bed beside her head.

  “Ben,” she moaned.

  “All right,” he grunted. “We’ll play next time.”