Frayed (Connections #4)
Page 52“It was breathtaking,” the other throws in.
“Thank you,” is all she says, and I notice her hands are trembling.
I grab one and then the other as I stand behind her. She doesn’t flinch or pull away until the doors open. When they do, the four older people in front of us vacate the space quickly, calling good-bye over their shoulders. I follow right behind them, taking the lead in front of her, and finally feeling my stride, I slink back to grab her hand.
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“I want to show you something.”
“I thought you wanted to talk.”
“I do,” I say.
Pulling S’belle to my side, I reach over the valet stand and grab my keys. “I’ll bring them right back.”
“But, sir, you can’t do that,” the valet calls.
S’belle turns. “He locked his keys in his car.”
I laugh and bend to whisper in her ear, “They’re in my hand. How could I have locked them in my car?”
She shrugs. “I know that, but he’s still trying to figure it out.”
“Silver tongue,” I joke. God, I missed her.
A slight giggle escapes her and when I stop at the car I have to take a moment to admire her. This girl has occupied so much space in my mind for so long and I had no idea why. But I do now. It’s because she’s perfect for me—we are perfect for each other. I just hope she feels the same way.
I pop my trunk and pull out the large red box that I loaded before I left my house. “This is a little late, but Merry Christmas.”
Her expression falls. “I can’t take this.”
“Please, S’belle, just open it. It will help me explain.”
She sighs and sets it on the ledge of the hatch. “Ben, I think we need to talk.”
“And we will as soon as you open this.” I push it toward her.
Her hands hang at her sides.
I lift her chin and stare at her with an intensity that I hope conveys just a little bit of how much I care about her. “Please.”
She looks down at the box and then back up to me.
I nod, my eyes pleading with her.
With resignation she pulls the box toward her and lifts the lid.
She glances up at me with a puzzled look on her face.
I pull her closer to me. “You said you wanted more than just tomorrow. I’m shit with explaining my feelings, but I had this gift ready for you weeks ago. I want you to see that I never only thought of you in terms of just the next day. To me there was always more. I just didn’t know how to tell you. S’belle, I think about you all the time. Everywhere I go, everything I do. Fuck, I even steal napkins because they remind me of you. Look, I know I can be an ass**le, but I can promise you more than just tomorrow if you let me.”
She crushes her lips to mine.
I close my eyes and savor the sensation of her body pressed against mine—soft, warm, and tender. Then I wrap my arms around her and pull her as close as I can so I can feel all of her—every single inch. When we’re both breathless I lean back. “There’s more in the box.”
She reaches for it and removes the rest of the napkins before pulling out the shiny key from the bottom. She looks up at me. “A key?”
I nod. “To my house. I want you to move in with me. That’s what I was talking to Kale about that day you overheard us. How to ask you.”
Her mouth drops open in shock. “I can’t do that.”
“Why?”
“I—I—I’ve never lived with a guy,” she stammers.
I grin at her. At how f**king adorable she is. I open her hand and place the key in her palm before closing her fingers one by one. “Lucky for you I’m not just any guy. I love you and I want you to live with me. Say yes?”
My breath stops as I look down at the myriad of emotions crossing her face.
Her hand slides up my chest to my cheek. Tears glisten in her eyes and she closes them tightly.
“S’belle, open your eyes. Did you hear me? I know I’m really shitty at this relationship stuff. I’m nowhere near perfect and I never will be. I’m not a heart-and-flowers kind of guy. I don’t even know how to be one . . . but I’m the guy who will love you with everything I have.
“I can’t bear to be away from you. I want you near me all the time. Not just in my bed but I want you sitting across from me at dinner, I want to go to the market with you, I want to do everything with you. I want to be the one who makes you smile for no reason. I want to be the one you can’t stop thinking about. I want to be the one who rocks your world.”
She opens her eyes. A shiver passes through her before she finally speaks. “Ben Covington, you’ve rocked my world from the first time I laid eyes on you. I love you too,” she says, her words hoarse and soft.
Bending down closer to her mouth, I whisper, “Is that a yes? You’ll move in with me?”
“Yes.” She throws her arms around my neck.
“Yes!” I crouch down so we are eye to eye and grin at her. My hands move to her h*ps to hold her close against me.
“I can’t believe Misty was right.”
“Misty?”
“A fortune-teller. Never mind, you’d never believe me,” she giggles.
I kiss the corner of her lip, taste it, tug on it. “You’re crazy. Just the kind of crazy I need in my life.”
She laughs.
“Shhh . . . ,” I whisper, and place my finger over her mouth. “We can talk about all that, talk about everything, but first I want to kiss you.”
Her lips part and I lower my mouth to hers. I kiss her more softly this time, sweeter, maybe full of love. When she moans I can’t hold back my own groan. I want her so much. I need her so much. But instead of throwing her in the backseat of my car and taking her here as I really want to, I decide we should go back upstairs. I have to make things right with her family. I know it isn’t going to be easy, but I also know I love her enough to do it.
“So I saw your brother in the bathroom before I saw you,” I confess.
“Xander?”
“No, River.”
Her eyes widen. “How’d that go?”
“Let’s just say it went better than could have been expected,” I whisper in her ear.
“Oh, that’s really good.”
“It’s going to be okay. They don’t have to love me, but I’ll make you feel comfortable enough that we can all be together—I can guarantee you that.”
I pull back to look at her. Her smile is wide and bright—just the way I like it. There is no fear or concern anywhere on her face. Also the way I like it.
“I believe you.”
I step closer. The heat in her eyes flames, proof of the passion that’s always between us, and I reconsider the backseat plan. I stare at her lips but quickly raise my gaze back to her eyes. They exude such innocence and trust they make me remember I’m really trying not to always take. But f**k, this isn’t easy. With my mouth now hovering over her lips, I grab her hand and say, “Come on, let’s go up to your brother’s wedding. I’d like to say congratulations.”
She yanks my hand and pulls me back to her, flush to her body. Close enough that I can feel the hardness of her ni**les through her dress and my shirt. She grips my tie and pulls the knot from it. “The festivities were just ending when you arrived. Xander arranged a private fireworks display for Ivy and whisked her off on some yacht to watch the show alone. They’re actually headed to Mexico on that boat for their honeymoon.”
“Does that mean you’re mine, all mine, for the rest of the night?” I lick my lips.
“I am,” she purrs. “I even have a room on the fifth floor. Would you like to see it?”
“See it? Oh, baby, I want to do more than see it,” I growl in her ear.
The sound she makes in response sends my body into overdrive. My hands are skimming down her body and around to her back when the unpleasant memory of that guy’s hands in the same place as mine comes to the forefront of my mind. “Who was the guy with his hands all over you?”
“Leif?”
My eyes drift down her body and back up. “I’m asking you.”
“That was Leif Morgan. He’s the guy I told you about that took Jagger’s place in the movie.”
“Oh yeah, right. Lucky for him I didn’t punch him out, then.”
“Ben, we’re just friends.”
“I’ve told you I’m jealous as f**k, haven’t I?”
Fuck me.
CHAPTER 36
Our Song
Bell
Three weeks later
Happiness fills me, all of me, every part of me. I never thought two people so lost in this world could make each other feel found, but we have. I slip back into bed as the sun makes its way up on the horizon and look over at Ben, his bare back tan from our time out on the beach teaching me how to surf, his head buried in his pillow, and his hair a rumpled mess—he couldn’t look any hotter. I know he’s tired but I can’t resist letting my tongue draw a line from his neck down.
In a flash he has me on my back. “What time is it?” He shifts a squinting eye toward the clock.
“Six.”
“In the morning?”
“Yep.”
“That’s illegal for a Sunday.”
I laugh. “That’s my line.”
His mouth travels down my neck with a lick and a suck. “I like your lines.”
A throaty moan escapes my throat and I shift beneath him.
He lifts his head. “Why are you up so early?”
I arch my back, pressing my body into his. “I had to pee.”
He pulls away with a grin.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he says, rolling us so he’s on his back and I’m straddling him. “Nothing.”
I moved into Ben’s house two weeks ago. It was the week after we got back together. He kept his promise, doing everything he could to make things with my family comfortable. And moving day couldn’t have been a bigger testament to his desire to make things work. It was definitely a family move. My whole family insisted on helping and so did Ben’s. My mom and Jack were of course really easygoing and more than welcoming toward Ben, but I already knew they would be. River, well, he and Ben didn’t actually speak to each other, but they didn’t fight either. And Ben and I both agreed we could live with that. At least they proved they could be in the same room together without killing each other. I even think I heard River mumble, “Nice place, cool tree,” under his breath when Ben was in his proximity. I got a laugh out of that. They’ll come around with each other; I know they will—someday.
Once we finally leave the bed, we spend the day out. We meet my mom and Jack at the Farmer’s Market where we buy a few things for the house as well as some groceries. Once we get home and get our bags unloaded, I turn on the music, pour two glasses of sparkling water, slice a lemon, and suck on a wedge. I notice Ben’s stare as I do and a wave of relentless desire sweeps through me. I can feel my pulse racing and my breath quicken with every move around the kitchen he makes. He can feel it too, I can tell.
I lean back to watch Ben make dinner—stir-fry. He finally convinced me to try it, but it wasn’t that difficult. I’ve had a weird need to eat carrots. It’s as if I’m Bugs Bunny lately. I would never admit it to Ben, though, because if he knew I wanted to eat vegetables, God knows what he’d have me eating. So instead I wrinkled my nose at the idea and hesitantly agreed. But first he had to promise a few sexual favors in return. That part was fun. And since Ben’s always telling me what a whiz with a wok he is, I really did want to see him in action.