She would stake her life on the fact that lots of someones had probably gotten hurt. Just not Bennett. How could those women not want more?
“I don’t do casual. Noah was my first. And only.” It was both a fact and a warning and she hoped he understood. Her throat tightened, and her next words came out on a whisper. “Until you.”
His arm flexed and he breathed her name. In his voice was a command she was happy to follow. Twisting in his arms, she found his lips in a kiss that weaved them together as surely and purely as the strongest Kevlar. All of her doubts fell away, fragile and unimpressive against long-pent-up desire.
In his bed, she discovered she’d been parched for a man’s touch and surrendered to the moment. To the man. To her own need. Time was measured by the passing of light into darkness, yet she didn’t feel any desire to face reality.
Tucked against him like they were spoons, she hardly needed the blanket to keep her warm. He played with her hair, the sweetness of the gesture turning her insides to mush.
“Are you happy?” he asked.
She didn’t answer immediately, taking a quick stock of the massive changes in her life over the last months. Her mother had shoved her out of the nest, and she had found her wings. It wasn’t just Bennett; it was the business, too. Her life was fuller and more exciting than she’d imagined it could be after Noah had died.
“I’m very happy. What about you?” She turned so she could see his face.
A flash of sadness crossed his face. “I’m happier than I deserve to be.”
This time she held the questions that threatened to pierce the cocoon they’d cobbled together. The scars on his leg and hip had their own story to tell. It might take a week or a year or a decade, but she would wait for him to trust her with his secrets. What was growing between them was worth that.
She wrapped her hand around his neck and pulled him in for a fierce kiss.
“Can you spend the night?” He rolled on top of her.
She shouldn’t. Would Ben miss her in the morning? Her body arched against his answering for her. Time enough for regrets and guilt later.
“Yes, I’ll stay.”
Chapter 18
Present Day
As the sky streaked with dawn light, they made love again. The rough impatience of the night before was only slightly muted by sleep. Afterward, she pulled the sheet up, her heart and breathing decelerating.
The passion between them was raw and primal and messy. Nothing like what her experience had prepared her for. She and Noah had fumbled their way through their first time, and when they’d made love shades of that innocence remained.
Bennett wasn’t acquainted with innocence. He probably hadn’t been for a long while. Harper was older now, too, and the pain of living left only memories of who she’d been. In old pictures she recognized herself but couldn’t recall what that girl had thought and felt.
Bennett was facedown on the bed, his dark hair stark against the white pillow. She reached out and skimmed her hand down his back. He arched with her touch like an animal getting petted and turned, unconcerned with his nakedness.
Harper couldn’t keep her gaze from wandering south. Damn. The scars on his body only made him more interesting, not less attractive. He would be the perfect nude model for her mom’s painting class. Not that she was going to make the suggestion, because he was hers and hers alone. For now.
She scooched into his side and took a bite at his neck followed by a soothing kiss. Over his natural scent was something more elemental. Sex. He smelled of sex and so did she. They’d marked each other.
She didn’t regret spending the night, but the implications went far beyond mind-blowing sex. There was Ben to think about. She needed to leave and put some distance between her and temptation.
“I have to go. Ben…” Her voice was muffled by his superheated skin. The man operated a few degrees higher than her.
“I know. I’m thankful that I had you as long as I did.” He tightened his hold on her before letting go.
She wasn’t ready, but then would she ever be ready to leave him? Slipping away, she grabbed her clothes and streaked to the bathroom. He might be perfectly comfortable letting everything hang out with her, but she wasn’t.
She cleaned up and dressed, and by the time she poked her head out he was up, in jeans and a flannel shirt, puttering in the kitchen. Their gazes met, but hers tripped away, awkwardness spreading like a stain that only got worse with scrubbing.
“All I’ve got is cereal and coffee.” He gestured toward a box of bran flakes.
“A quick cup of coffee, please.”
He poured her a mug. Her morning-after gawkiness didn’t seem to infect him. He sat down with a bowl of cereal. “What’re your plans for the day?”
“Head home and research coffee roasters.” She joined him at the table and perched on the edge of the seat.
“You’re not going to contract the roasting?” His eyebrows rose, but she didn’t feel like he was questioning her decision; he was merely curious.
“If we need to, but we have the room and the smell alone would be a selling point. Madeline has a handle on bean procurement and is excited to learn to roast. Think about walking into your favorite bakery and smelling the bread and pastries cooking. You walk out with more than you intended every single time. It’s part of the experience. I’ve come across a couple of used roasters at reasonable prices.”
“What about the equipment you bought at auction?”
“Expected delivery is two weeks from Monday.”
“Shop’s closed that day if you need the muscle to receive and move things around.” The look he cast her was testing.
She could do it on her own, but she’d missed his advice and steadiness. He calmed her tendency to panic over price or get overwhelmed at the enormity of the undertaking. “That’d be great. I’d love your help.”
She put her mug in the sink and ran her hands down her jeans. “I’d better go.”
He led the way down the stairs and through the shop, unlocking the front door and flipping the sign from Closed to Open. Birds having conversations filled the crisp morning air with song. The sun had risen over the line of trees, the bright light blinding.
He propped a shoulder against a column. Each step she took away from him was harder than the last. This leave-taking was like ripping a Band-Aid off an extremely hairy, sensitive body part.
She pivoted around. “How is this going to work?”
“You’ll drive home, do your thing while I’m doing my thing up here, and I’ll see you Sunday evening.” Thankfully, he didn’t play dumb.
“Okay, but—”
“Harper. Darlin’.” He descended but stayed on the step above her, forcing her to tilt her head way back to see him. He circled his hand around her nape and massaged. Like his touch was magic—maybe it was—she relaxed and her worries dissipated like morning fog. “We’ll manage.”
“How?”
“Texting. Phone. We’re not that far apart. It’s all good for now.”
“For now?” The temporary qualification shot a chill through her.
He laughed, but no amusement tracked to his eyes. “I don’t know what comes next. I’ve never done this before.”
She was the inexperienced one when it came to matters of the body, but he was the innocent one when it came to matters of the heart.
“You’ve never…” been in love? The words hung between them.
“You asked me once why I never came to the team cookouts and parties. The truth was I never fit in with the happy husbands and families. I told myself I felt sorry for them. Anchored to one woman with responsibilities that kept them up at nights when we were deployed. But the truth was I was envious. I’ve never had a woman look at me the way you are right now. You scare the hell out of me.”
“Why?” A whisper was all she could manage with her heart in her throat.
“Because until now, I’ve always been able to walk away.”
Until now. The words raced through her heart and veins like the “Hallelujah Chorus.” She tingled all over and hoped she wasn’t going to embarrass herself by needing medical attention. “You’re not walking this time?”
“I tried. After that first day, I tried.” His lips quirked. “You tracked me down.”
“Oh.” Unable to come up with anything more emotionally intelligent, she wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned into him, her ear pressed against his heart.
If it was possible, his heartbeat paced even faster than hers. He was as nervous and scared and unsure as she was. She wanted to laugh.
“I’m not walking, either.” She spoke softly but knew he’d heard when his arms tightened reflexively.
Except she did have to walk away, in reality if not metaphorically. She had responsibilities. Welcome ones.
He skimmed his hands up her arms to cup her face and leaned in for a kiss. This one was sweet and held promises of days and nights and moments shared.
When he pulled away, she fluttered her eyes open, swaying on the step. She’d taken hold of his wrists at some point. Now she laid a kiss on one of his palms before turning and retreating to her car on unsteady legs.
She tried not to look back—this wasn’t a permanent good-bye—but she watched him grow smaller in the rearview mirror as a tear slipped out. Even a temporary parting was like losing a vital internal organ. Maybe her heart.
* * *
The week passed in fits and starts. The days flew by as she worked every aspect of the burgeoning business, keeping in close contact with Joyce and Madeline and Allison. The nights made up for the quick days, the seconds ticking away like a clock whose battery was run down.
Lying in bed with the moonlight wavering ghostly shadows on the ceiling, she listened to the night sounds from the cracked window. The continuity from childhood offered a shot of peace to her restlessness. Although things were changing at warp speed, some things stayed the same, like the push and pull of the moon on the tides.
Sleep eluded her, and she pulled her phone closer, the screen blank.
RU up? She tapped in.
Only a few seconds passed.
Miss U.
It was an admission he wouldn’t have been comfortable making even a week earlier. And probably still wasn’t comfortable making face-to-face.
Miss U2.
I admire Bono as much as the next man, but …
She giggled. U know what I meant. How’s work?
Taking an overnight group tomorrow. Three corporate types. Should be interesting.
I’m nervous about the delivery.
Why?
Success or failure crept closer. This was the first chance she’d taken in a long time. Since she’d gone off to college and later when she’d married Noah. Both had scared her.
Delivery makes it real. Scary. The point of no return.
Your plan is solid. You have lots of support. A decent chance of making it.
Decent?!
I meant great.
Sure you did.
Bennett was realistic and honest—if not entirely forthcoming. If he thought she stood a decent chance, then maybe she should take that as a good sign.
I need my beauty sleep. Talk when I get back?
Harper smiled. Is Jack London with you?
Snoring next to me. Way hairier and not as sexy as you were in my bed.
Kiss him from me. A tiny electrical current powered her response. Sleep would be a long time coming.
I’d rather be kissing you.
Bennett wasn’t a lighthearted flirter. If he said he’d rather be kissing her, then he meant it. When nothing else came through, she set her phone on the nightstand and pulled the covers up over her head.
Morning came with a swiftness that left Harper’s eyes gritty and underscored by dark half circles. But even with her lack of sleep she was jittery. Coffee only made it worse. Getting Ben up and ready for preschool offered a brief distraction.
Every once in a while, Ben’s sunny, funny nature would be interrupted by a pensive silence. He folded the place mat into a square, a frown on his face.
“What’s up, buddy?” She cast him a look under her lashes as she fixed him a bowl of cereal. He didn’t answer. She slid his cereal in front of him and took the chair at his side. “Are you sad or worried about something?”
“Are you and Big Ben going to get married?”
The question sent an organ-rattling shock through her. “No. I don’t know.” She forced herself to stop and take a breath. “How would you feel if we did get married?”
“Where would I live?”
“With me. Always with me, pumpkin.”
“What about Yaya?”
The future was bright but indistinct, and she couldn’t honestly assure him of anything. “Yaya will be around one way or another. I promise.” She watched him drink the milk out of his bowl. “Do you not like Bennett?”
“He can do card tricks and stuff. Plus, he has a cool dog.” Ben shrugged off his worry and hopped up to grab his backpack for school.
Back home after dropping him off, there was nothing she could do except for wait and worry over things that were in motion and couldn’t be changed.
Her phone buzzed midmorning. It was an unknown Fayetteville number. She tensed preparing herself for a problem with the lease or equipment or something bigger she couldn’t even anticipate.
“Hello.” She clutched her phone with both hands.
“Har-r-per.” Allison’s voice was wavery.
It was disconcerting how a tone could rocket her back to the moment she’d opened the door to the Navy chaplain saying her name. Some moments lived like an indelible ink stain in her memory, every nuance stored away forever. A splinter biting into her palm where she’d clutched the doorframe. The spring breeze on her face carrying the scent of blooming flowers. The face of the man who had stood on her front porch, the message he had yet to impart written in the lines of his face.
In Allison’s whisper of her name, a shift occurred, although Harper couldn’t map the seismic changes yet.
“What’s happened?”
“It’s Sophie.”
Harper’s stomach went into riot mode. She’d been expecting to hear Darren’s name. “Is she okay?”
“No.”
“How bad?”
Allison’s silence was answer enough.
“Where are you?”
“The children’s hospital.”
“I’m on my way.”
Allison disconnected and Harper stared at the blank screen, her body frozen as her mind whirled in the aftermath of an EF-5 emotional tornado. Ben. Harper controlled an urge to go check on him even though he was safe and sound.
Her mom’s footfalls on the stairs accompanied her off-tune singing of a pop song. The mundane was comforting, and Harper only watched her mom pour coffee and wrap her hands around the mug, taking a deep sniff and smiling.
After her first sip, she glanced over, her smile turning into a tense, thin line. “What’s wrong? Is it Bennett?”
Harper shook her head, not sure if she could sort out the words rampaging through her head. “Allison’s youngest. Little Sophie’s been hurt. I’m not sure what happened or how bad it is.”
“Do you need to go to her?”
Harper nodded.
“Don’t worry about Ben. I’ll take care of him.”
“I know.” Harper’s voice croaked and her mom swept her into a hug that smelled of coffee and her lotion. Harper dropped her forehead to her mom’s shoulder and took a deep breath. For a second, she wished she could leap back in time to when things were simple and easy and her biggest worry was whether she’d play red rover or tag at recess.
“Are you okay to drive?” Her mom pulled away, the fantasy slipping away.
Her emotions realigned from inward to outward. What must Allison and Darren be going through right now? “I’ll be fine. Promise. I might be there a couple of days depending…”
<
br /> “Whatever you need to do for Allison.”
Harper took the stairs two at a time and threw some clothes into an overnight bag.
“Call or text me as soon as you know what’s going on.” Her mom was waiting at the door with a to-go mug of coffee.
After another brief hug, Harper got on the road, cursing the red lights and traffic. The tourists were sparse but increasing as the weather warmed. She finally reached the highway and had a hard time keeping her car near the speed limit. Was the blank screen of her phone a good or bad sign?
Bennett would be out in the wilderness with his phone tucked away. At best, he might check it later that night. Even so, he couldn’t leave a set of corporate clients in the Dismal Swamp to fend for themselves.
She willed Allison to call with an update. The longer the silence lasted, the worse the scenarios her imagination produced.
With still no word from Allison, Harper entered the hospital and was directed to the children’s wing waiting room. She stepped off the elevator into a cheerily decorated hall. Brightly colored butterflies took flight on the wall and gauzy 3-D dragonfly models hung from the ceiling. In opposition to the pretty displays was the smell of antiseptic and sickness.
She followed arrows to the waiting room. Allison stood straight and still looking out a large window overlooking the parking lot while Darren sat crunched over, his head in his hands. A family whispering Spanish to one another took up another set of chairs. Worry permeated the room from all corners.
“Allison,” Harper said softly, her voice breaking the solemn calm of the room like a rock thrown into a placid lake.
Allison tripped over the leg of a chair making her way to hug Harper. Except it was less a hug and more a surrender. Her weight fell across Harper’s shoulders. She guided Allison toward a chair near to Darren, but Allison resisted, instead steering them back toward the window.
“I feel like the walls are closing in on me.” Allison’s breathing was shallow and fast and sweat popped on her forehead.
Darren hadn’t moved to acknowledge Harper’s presence, so she focused on Allison. Harper forced her to sit, grabbed the nearest magazine, and fanned her. The picture of a smiling, happy celebrity couple on the cover was tone deaf to the surroundings. Maybe someone would find comfort in the superficiality of their life, but if the couple had been standing in front of Harper she might be tempted to punch their perfect, fake smiles.
The Military Wife Page 22
