She wrenched her lips away, left him bereft as she swept them across his face, his neck, while her hands raced over him. Down his shoulders, teasing the muscles of his back. She fused her lips to his once again. Her hands tunneled through his hair. Gripped his shoulders. Circled his waist and held on.
He burned where she touched him.
His hands swept her sides, his lips brushed her cheek, her throat, nibbled at the pulse so visible there. Palms cruised over rough denim covering her hips, then up again over the ribbed cotton of her top. His thumbs brushed the sides of her breasts and there was a moan—hers. He would have offered anything to cover the bareness of them with his hands or—oh, God—his mouth, which was so close now.
He let his hands glide down again, back to her waist, to the place where ribbed knit tucked into denim and ripped it out until his fingertips found smooth skin.
And his knees grew weak.
Vehicles passed by. Honked. He pressed himself to her and sucked in air. Swept his hands down the length of her arms and back up again, caught her by the back of her head and nibbled greedily. Fulfilling his fantasy, he dug his fingers into her hair and popped the rubber band that held her curls hostage.
And finally, at long last, cradled her jaw is his palms as he gentled the kiss.
He reclaimed his tongue and brushed his lips over hers. Gently. Oh, so gently. Let them trail across her jaw to the smooth skin just beneath her ear. Propped his forehead against hers. And fought for breath.
Her chest heaved against his. Puffs of air gusted against his neck as she gasped. Her arms tightened around him, branded him.
He lifted his head. Her eyes were glassy, and as dark as storm clouds.
Whoa.
This—he—was out of control. He stumbled back a step. For years there’d been a parade of girls. Perky, sulky, witty, arrogant. Each beautiful, each different, each no more important than the last. Allie was just the next in line.
Wasn’t she?
A lifeline was what he needed. He planted a smirk on his lips, which still tingled from her kisses. “Yeah, I suppose I was good today.”
She was no longer breathless, and her eyes were lightened to pewter. “And you hit a home run.”
When her grin lit up her face his heart did a slow roll.
Shit.
He was sunk. Defenseless. Wave the white flag, beg for mercy. Allie was not the next in line.
She was the end of the line.
His eyelids drifted shut against a flash of green amusement and he prepared to surrender.
Hell, no. He snapped his eyes open again and studied her features. The features that belonged to the woman he… loved. If he did this, he was doing it right.
He pulled her back into his arms. Let his face soften, his gaze warm her until she melted into him. “A home run. Yeah, I guess I did.”
Standing in the meager light of a single fluorescent bulb, Allie shifted the brown paper bag and knocked. After six hours in the library her mind was mush. All she wanted was a glass of wine and a hot bath. Okay, two glasses of wine. But instead here she was, juggling the makings for spaghetti. And what did that say about her willpower?
She was pathetic, following Ben around like a little lost puppy. But somehow she couldn’t manage to stop. It was a battle she’d waged with herself for two weeks now, since that kiss in the parking lot. And every time he put his lips on hers her defenses grew weaker.
Oh, for Pete’s sake. Get a grip. She pounded harder, then tried the knob.
The chest she stumbled against as the door flew inward was muscular, golden—and bare. Her breath escaped in a whoosh. Her shoulders sizzled where his palms latched on to keep her upright.
“Hi, babe.”
His smile, just short of a leer, was positively sinful.
And that had the edge of her temper sharpening.
The lips that grazed hers widened into a grin as she marched across the threshold.
Oh, wasn’t he smug. She swept past him, dropped the sack on the kitchen counter. “I hope you’re hungry.” With her wrist tugged, she found her palms pressed against sun-kissed skin.
“I could eat.”
His lips were warm and soft as they touched hers again, but they didn’t linger. “Put a shirt on.”
His chin lowered as he followed her gaze. “I’m not cold.”
No, but she couldn’t concentrate. “Put a shirt on.” Because she’d said it more harshly than she intended she took a sideways step and let out a long breath. Slid a short stack of mail aside and emptied the sack of groceries onto the counter.
With a box of pasta in one hand, a can of tomatoes in the other, she had to admit Reese was right. She’d been acting a shrew. She’d love to figure out why that was, but with her stomach quivering as if it had an infestation of butterflies she simply couldn’t think straight.
The bag was empty so she folded it, hid it in a cupboard. Reese had drawn her own conclusion, of course, and taken great joy in sharing it with her. It was a silly notion she had—outrageous really. After all, she barely knew the guy.
He still said nothing, was way too quiet as he stood with his head cocked and his eyes steady. Cans were now towered in a pyramid beside an onion and fresh mushrooms. Was he angry? Curious? She wished she knew.
Did she dare test Reese’s theory? Did she even want to? What if love had actually crept into her heart? She moved toward him, allowed his arms to encircle her. She probably could have denied it. Would have sworn love was a tame, orderly emotion rather than this jumbled confusion. But the blue embers now gleaming in his eyes spoke to her soul. And the peck he’d doled out earlier with a bland smile only left her craving more of him.
The sweep of his hand over her hair and across her back had the butterflies settling down for a nap. Well, what did she make of that?
A brush of her fingertips eased the furrow in his forehead. “I’m sorry.” Because she ached for him she tilted her chin, pressed her lips against his, let them rub until he pressed back. And immediately needed more.
With a shuffle of feet his back hit the counter, near a stale crust of sandwich and a half-empty milk glass, which he nearly upended. He tasted faintly of toothpaste, minty. His hands skimmed over her back and down to her waist, and her legs trembled.
Her heart stuttered. Her breath grew choppy when her fingers tunneled through the crisp hair sprinkling the chiseled plane of his chest. His heart thumped against her palms.
Her arms trembled too, grew weak when his lips traveled down her jaw, beginning at her ear and ending at the pulse pounding at the base of her throat. With his palms covering her hips he widened his stance and pulled her into the hardness of him. Her knees threatened to collapse.
Wait! This was crazy. Stupid. She wrenched away. Jerked back until his arms were forced to loosen around her. When her breathing slowed, when the tremors calmed—that’s when it would be safe to lift her forehead from his. Eyelids she knew held stubby blond lashes breezed across her brow. Full lips which were parted even now blew out uneven breaths against her neck. The muscles of his forearms were firm against her palms. He was beautiful. So beautiful.
But was he hers?
She dragged her face from his, hoped to distract herself by peeking around the apartment, where beer bottles littered the coffee table and a layer of dust covered every surface. “How do you live in this pigsty?”
She would have thought he’d turn, take a look. Perhaps offer an excuse. Instead he merely grinned. “It’s the cleaning lady’s day off.”
She could only roll her eyes. But when she spotted a jock strap poking out from beneath the couch she had to point it out. “Ben, that’s disgusting!”
His toothy grin settled into a carefree smile before it slid away and he deadpanned, “I have no idea how that got there.”
The pressure in her chest was achingly familiar as he tugged her close again.
“The hamper’s in the bedroom, Ben. Right by the bed.”
His smile bloome
d again, even as the heat of a long gaze scorched her. “Is that right?”
Her heart surprised her with a jolt. Tripped and skittered and tumbled into a puddle of chaotic emotion.
It was those denim blue eyes, damn him, that she couldn’t resist. It was that smile, sometimes shy, sometimes playful. And even now, it was the way he made her laugh when she wanted to stay angry. He was every young woman’s fantasy—and she was nothing if not a typical young woman.
But was he hers?
His jaws bristled her palms with a day’s growth of whiskers. It interested her that his eyes darkened to midnight with her touch. Did it matter that his exes were plentiful enough to line Sun Devil Stadium? That far too soon she’d be left with only memories of his hard-muscled strength and summer bright eyes? She sucked in a breath. Did it matter that he’d take her heart with him when he left?
The breath was released in a rush. No, it was too late for those things to matter. She shifted, pressed her lips to his ear in a whisper, and let him know she was his.
“Yeah, that’s right. Let me show you where it is.”
With Allie curved to his chest Ben rode out the wave of tremors, let a soothing lethargy flood him as his racing heart settled. His palm swept the front of his shirt and was halted by two buttons fastened across her breasts. He tugged her closer with ease, and slowly, slowly her pulse slowed. This was nice, easy. Nothing to be frightened of.
Her dimple intrigued him so he traced the corner of her mouth with the tip of his finger. “Have you always had this?”
“Always. My dad used to say it made me look mischievous.” When she twisted to lay on her back her familiar scent hung on his pillow and teased his senses. “What about you? Were you a trouble maker? Ever break any bones?”
He brushed her hair from her cheek, considered untangling the sheet from her waist. “Nose once, thanks to Nick and a wild pitch. My pride many times.” He missed the heat of her. Followed her onto the warmth she’d left on the sheet between them. “You have a brother. No sisters?
“Nope, just Ryan. How about you? Just brothers?” With a shuffle, she kicked her legs free of the covering.
He could have whimpered in thanks. “You kidding? With our pack she would have ended up pitching for the Yankees.” When his hand had wandered an exposed length of thigh, he skimmed it back upward.
She chuckled. “So your deal was baseball. Mine was always school. I made Ryan play it with me at home.
He traced a slow finger along her collarbone. Shifted onto his back, pulled her into his shoulder and was rewarded with a soft sigh as she wriggled closer still. “So you dreamed of becoming a teacher even back then.”
“I guess I did. And T-Squared is under construction.
When she chuckled at her own pun he could only shake his head and grin. “I’ll give you that one. Cheeky. Clever. You’ll fit right in with my family.”
And because the idea of it rocked him to the core he plowed ahead as if he hadn’t just glimpsed his future.
“Plans for the company are coming right along. We’re already bidding jobs, and my dad keeps us from drowning in paperwork. He tells us where to sign, we sign.”
“So your dream is lumber and hardware?”
It was the timing as much as the question that made his heart suddenly stop. Perhaps if he hadn’t mentioned family, if he hadn’t just pictured her in a room surrounded by children, the query would have slid right through their conversation and fallen into a black hole.
Perhaps his silence wouldn’t have been noted.
He closed his eyes so he could ignore the way her smile disappeared and the green flecks deserted her eyes.
He should have expected this. They were talking about their futures after all. So why, for God’s sake why, did the idea of dreams suddenly conjure up a home with a yard, and—oh, sweet Jesus—the pitter patter of little feet.
But that was all in the future. He lifted his eyelids, brushed his lips across hers softly, with hope. And then more eagerly until her eyes sparkled again and soft purrs vibrated in her throat. With Allie in his bed all he would think about was tonight. In one smooth movement he landed on his side, trailed a finger down her arm, light as a feather and designed to raise another batch of goosebumps. “C’mere.” He drew her to him, beneath him with the whisper. And as her eyes did a slow roll back to stormy he prepared to ride the tempest.
The ordeal was nearly over. They’d studied for years. Ordered caps and gowns, and announcements, met with advisors for credit checks—a myriad of details. Suddenly final exams were behind them and graduation was here. The only thing keeping Ben from shouting for joy were the thousands of people packing the arena.
Allie’s ceremony had occurred in the late morning. A smaller, dignified ceremony that he’d attended with her parents. He didn’t mind sitting beside her dad. He seemed like a nice guy. They met at Easter and he received a warm welcome from the History professor in a worn corduroy blazer. The same man who earlier today sat in an elegant tailored suit as he clutched his wife’s hand, beaming with pride at the young woman who was his daughter.
This evening he swam in a sea of maroon and gold, and people swarmed around him. He craned his neck, located Allie in the throng.
His heart skipped a beat and he waved. For months he’d run scared. She’d become too important too fast. He didn’t expect to fall in love. If anyone told him he was ready he’d have sworn they were nuts. But once he admitted his feelings to himself he wasted no time moving forward. He smiled to himself. Graduation was not all he’d been arranging. A trip to see his father put the finishing touches on his plans for tonight.
The noise level was loud and lighthearted, and drew his attention back to the arena. Handmade banners waved, congratulating loved ones on their accomplishments. Over the din, the racket, the commotion, the orchestra tuned their instruments.
At last it was time to begin. In alphabetical order as they had since they were children, he jostled Jake good-naturedly and then stood stock still for the pledge and the invocation. He swallowed hard to hide the lump in his throat as the orchestra played the alma mater, and then, finally, with all the pomp and circumstance he worked so diligently toward the past four years, he was a college graduate. And thank God for that.
He endured a final round of hugs and congratulations from parents and friends, then draped his arm across Allie’s shoulders and led her to his car.
“Are you sure Jake and Reese have plans together?”
“Yeah.” He opened the car door for her and helped her in. He was surprised, too, especially since Jake abruptly pulled the plug on their relationship weeks ago. “He said they were meeting friends. Probably hitting the bars on Mill. They’re big kids now, babe.”
He started the engine and adjusted the stereo to her favorite station before pulling out of the parking space. Although the evening was warm he left his sport coat on during the ride. As they entered her apartment, however, he shrugged it off and draped it over the corner of the sofa.
Pacing the living room, sweat beaded and trickled down his back even as the air conditioning cooled the room. He picked things up from her tables, her shelves, turned them over in his hand, set them right back down again. He turned on a lamp and flipped the wall switch to turn off the overhead light. Chose a CD and slipped it into the stereo. Alabama. The music played softly and soothed him.
He took a deep breath and settled on the left side of the sofa. “Hey, come here Al.” He had hoped for a playful tone, but it was amazing he could speak at all over the thrumming in his chest. “Come sit with me.” Stretching his arm along the seat, he patted the cushion.
“I’ll be there in a sec, I just want to put these things away,” she yelled out from the kitchen, then poked her head around the corner. “Hey, do you want something to drink? We’ve got wine, or there’s beer.”
“Beer, thanks. Then bring your cute little ass in here and sit with me. I’m lonely.”
She grinned at him over her shoulder
as she ducked back into the kitchen. The refrigerator opened, then slammed shut the way it did when she kicked it with her hip.
The bottles clinked as she set them on the coffee table. “Don’t whine.” She climbed onto the sofa and snuggled into him with her knees drawn to her chest. “You’re a college graduate now, that means you’re officially a grown up. Be charming.” She leaned into him and nibbled the corner of his mouth, flirty little kisses that any other day would rev him up fast.
She leaned closer to deepen the kiss, but he backed away with a small smile. He let the smile bloom on his face as he smoothed her curls with the back of his hand. She was so damn beautiful. The song changed in the background, something soft and sensual. His hand lingered on the back of her neck, rubbing slowly. “I love you, Allie.”
He released her nape, took both of her hands in his and smiled into eyes which were sparkling. I’ve been a jerk. I should have told you a long time ago, but I was scared. I thought I wasn’t ready.” And now he wanted to shout it out loud until the neighbors called the cops.
She shifted to face him fully, kneeling beside him on the cushion. Her lips curved slowly until she was grinning with her hands cradling his jaw. “I’m glad you’re ready now, because I love you too.”
She loved him. He let his eyes slide shut as he hauled her into his arms and squeezed. His heart expanded in his chest. He was torn between laughing in relief and crying in thanks. Eyelashes winged across his brow as butterfly kisses tickled his eyelids.
“Are you still scared?”
His eyelids flicked open and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Show time. “No, babe. I’m not scared anymore. Not of loving you.” He paused a beat, tightened his arms around her, before he released her and hauled in a breath. “Of losing you, of not having you in my life—that scares the shit out of me.”
Allie blinked sharply, and he allowed his smile to grow as his eyes searched her face. He rifled through his jacket, pulled a blue cardboard package from a pocket and proceeded to remove the lid. “Marry me, Allie.”
Twice in a Lifetime (Love Found) Page 4
