Dave eyed him over his beer. ‘The two of you can’t keep going on like this, you know? You have a baby on the way.’
Ben’s head snapped back.
‘It
is
yours, isn’t it?’ Dave said, his eyes serious.
Ben hesitated and then nodded.
‘You need to sort it out.’
Ben stared down into his beer. The problem was they had sorted it out and this was the solution. He’d do what Meg needed him to do. Even if it killed him.
‘Look, why don’t you take the lady flowers and chocolates and just tell her you love her?’
Liquid sloshed over the sides of Ben’s glass. ‘I don’t love her!’ He slammed his glass to the table.
‘Really?’ Dave drawled. ‘You’re doing a damn fine impression of it, moping around like a lovesick idiot.’
‘Remind me,’ he growled. ‘We
are
supposed to be mates, right?’
Dave ignored him. ‘I saw the way you looked at her at the wedding. You could barely drag your eyes from her.’
‘That’s just lust.’ Even now her image fevered his dreams, had him waking in tangled sheets with an ache pulsing at his groin. It made him feel guilty, thinking about Meg that way, but it didn’t make the ache go away.
Dave sat back. ‘If it were any other woman I’d agree with you, but this is Meg we’re talking about. Meg has never been just another woman to you.’
Ben slumped back.
‘Tell me—when have you ever obsessed about a woman the way you’ve been obsessing about Meg?’
She was the mother of his child. She was his best friend. Of course he was concerned about her.
‘Never, right?’
Bingo. But...
The beer garden spun.
And then everything stilled.
Bingo
.
He stared at Dave, unable to utter a word. Dave drained the rest of his beer and clapped him on the shoulder. ‘I’m off home to the wife and kiddies. You take care, Ben. We’ll catch up again soon.’
Ben lifted a hand in acknowledgement, but all the time his mind whirled.
In love with Meg?
Him?
It all finally fell into place.
Piece by glorious piece.
Him and Meg.
He shoved away from the table and raced out into the mid-afternoon sunshine. He powered down the arcade and marched into the nearest gourmet food shop.
‘Can I help you, sir?’
‘I’m after a box of chocolates. Your best chocolates.’
The sales assistant picked up a box. ‘One can’t go past Belgian, sir.’
He surveyed it. ‘Do you have something bigger?’
‘We have three sizes and—’
‘I’ll take the biggest box you have.’
It was huge. Tucking it under his arm, he strode into the florist across the way. He stared in bewilderment at bucket upon bucket of choice. So many different kinds of flowers...
‘Good afternoon, son, what can I get for you?’
‘Uh...I want some flowers.’
‘What kind of flowers, laddie? You’ll need to be more specific.’
‘Something bright and cheerful. And beautiful.’ Just like Meg.
‘These gerberas are in their prime.’
The florist pointed to a bucket. The flowers were stunning in their vibrancy. Ben nodded. ‘Perfect.’
He frowned, though, when the florist extracted a bunch. They seemed a little paltry. The florist eyed him for a moment. ‘Perhaps you’d prefer two bunches?’
Ben’s face unclouded. ‘I’ll take all of them.’
‘All six bunches, laddie?’
He nodded and thrust money at the man—impatient to be away, impatient to be with Meg. He caught sight of a purple orchid by the till that brought him up short. A perfectly formed orchid that was beautiful in its fragility—its form, its colour and even its shape. It reminded him vividly of Meg on the night of the wedding.
He’d been such an idiot. He’d offered to marry her when he’d thought marriage was the last thing he wanted. He’d acknowledged that he and she were not his mother and father—their relationship would never descend to that kind of hatred and bitterness. He’d faced two of his biggest demons—for Meg—and still he hadn’t made the connection.
Idiot!
Meg brought out the best in him, not the worst. She made him want to be a better man. All he could do was pray he hadn’t left it too late.
The florist handed him the orchid, a gentle smile lighting his weathered face. ‘On the house, sonny.’
Ben thanked him, collected up the armful of flowers and strode back in the direction of his car. His feet slowed as he passed an ice cream shop. Meg couldn’t eat prawns or Camembert or salami, but she could have ice cream.
He strode inside and ordered a family-size tub of their finest. His arms were so full he had to ask the salesgirl to fish the money out of his jacket pocket. She put the tub of ice cream in a carrier bag and carefully hooked it around his free fingers.
She placed his change into his jacket pocket. ‘She’s a lucky lady.’
He shook his head. ‘If I can pull this off, I’ll be the lucky one.’ He strode to his car, his stomach churning.
If he could pull this off.
If.
He closed his eyes.
Please, God
.
CHAPTER TWELVE
M
EG
HEAVED
A
sigh and pulled yet more lids from the back of her kitchen cupboard. From her spot on the floor she could see there were still more in there. She had an assortment of lids that just didn’t seem to belong to anything else she owned. She’d tossed another lid on the ‘to-be-identified-and-hopefully-partnered-up’ pile when the doorbell rang.
She considered ignoring it, but with a quick shake of her head she rolled to her knees and lumbered upright. She would not turn into her father. She would not let heartbreak turn her into a hermit.
Pushing her hands into the small of her back, she started for the door. Sorting cupboards hadn’t induced an early nesting instinct in her as she’d hoped—hadn’t distracted her from the hole that had opened up in her world. A hole once filled by Ben.
Stop it!
Company—perhaps that would do the trick?
She opened the door with a ready smile, more than willing to be distracted by whoever might be on the other side, and then blinked at the blaze of colour that greeted her. Flowers almost completely obscured the person holding them. Flowers in every colour. Beautiful flowers.
Then she recognised the legs beneath all those flowers. And the scent of leather and whisky hit her, playing havoc with her senses.
That was definitely distracting.
Her pulse kicked. Her skin tingled. She swallowed. This kind of distraction had to be bad for her.
Very
bad.
She swallowed again. ‘Ben?’
‘Hey, Meg.’
And she couldn’t help it. Her lips started to twitch. It probably had something to do with the surge of giddy joy the very sight of him sent spinning through her.
‘Let me guess—you’re opening a florist shop?’
‘They’re for you.’
For
her
? Her smile faded. An awkward pause opened up between them. Ben shuffled his feet. ‘Take pity on a guy, won’t you, Meg, and grab an armful?’
It was better than standing there like a landed fish. She moved forward and took several bunches of flowers out of his arms, burying her face in them in an attempt to drown out the much more beguiling scent of her best friend.
She led the way through to the kitchen and set the flowers in the sink, before taking the rest of the flowers from Ben and setting them in the sink too.
‘Careful,’ she murmured, pointing to the stacks of plastic containers littering the floor.
Every skin cell she possessed ached, screaming for her to throw herself into his arms. Her fingers tingled with the need to touch him. Ben had hugged her more times than she could count. He wouldn’t protest if she hugged him now.
Her mouth dried. Her throat ached. The pulse points in her neck, her wrists, her ankles all throbbed.
She couldn’t hug him. She wouldn’t be hugging him as her best friend. She’d be hugging him as her dearest, darling Ben—the man she was in love with, the man she wanted to get downright dirty and naked with.
And he’d...
She closed her eyes. ‘What are you doing here, Ben?’
When she opened them again she found him holding out a box of chocolates. ‘For you.’
His voice came out low. The air between them crackled and sparked.
Or was that just her?
She took the chocolates in a daze. ‘I...’ She moistened her lips. ‘Thank you.’
A silence stretched between them. She wanted to stare and stare at him, drink in her fill, but she wouldn’t be able to keep the hunger from her eyes if she did. And she didn’t want him to witness that. She didn’t want his pity.
He started, and then held out a bag. ‘I remembered you said you’d had a craving for ice cream.’
She set the chocolates on the bench and reached for the ice cream with both hands, her mouth watering at the label on the carrier bag—it bore the name of her favourite ice cream shop.
‘What flavour?’
‘Passionfruit ripple.’
He’d remembered.
She seized two spoons from the cutlery drawer, pulled off the lid and tucked straight in. She closed her eyes in bliss at the first mouthful. ‘Oh, man, this is good.’
When she opened her eyes again she found him eyeing her hungrily, as if he wanted to devour her in exactly the same way she was devouring the ice cream.
She shook herself and swallowed. Maybe he did, but that didn’t change anything between them. Sleeping with Ben wouldn’t make him miraculously fall in love with her. Worst luck.
She pushed a spoon towards him. ‘Tuck in.’
He didn’t move. Standing so close to him was too much torture. She picked up the ice cream tub and moved to the kitchen table.
He’d brought her flowers. He’d brought her chocolates. And he’d brought her ice cream.
She sat. ‘So, what’s the sting in the tail?’
He started. ‘What do you mean?’
She gestured. ‘You’ve brought me the sweeteners, so what is it that needs sweetening?’
Her appetite promptly fled. She laid her spoon down. Was he leaving? Had he come to say goodbye?
She entertained that thought for all of five seconds before dismissing it. Ben wanted to be a part of their baby’s life. He had no intention of running away.
She went to pick her spoon up again and then stopped. There was still another three months before the baby was due. Maybe he was leaving Port Stephens until then.
It shouldn’t matter. After all, she hadn’t clapped eyes on him for almost a month.
She deliberately unclenched her hands.
Get over yourself.
He’d only be a phone call away if she should need him.
Need him? She ached for him with every fibre of her being. And seeing him like this was too hard. She wanted to yell at him to go away, but the shadows beneath his eyes and the gaunt line of his cheeks stopped her.
She picked up her spoon and hoed back into her ice cream. She gestured with what she dearly hoped was a semblance of nonchalance to the chair opposite and drawled, ‘Any time you’d like to join the party...’
He sat.
He fidgeted.
He jumped back up and put all the flowers into vases. She doggedly kept eating ice cream. It was delicious. At least she was pretty sure it was delicious. When he came back to the table, though, it was impossible to eat. The tension rose between them with every breath.
She set her spoon down, stared at all the flowers lined up on the kitchen bench, at the enormous box of chocolates—Belgian, no less—and then at the tub of ice cream. Her shoulders slumped. What did he have to tell her that could be so bad he needed to give her all these gifts first?
Flowers and chocolates—gifts for lovers. She brushed a hand across her eyes. Didn’t he know what he was doing to her?
‘I’ve missed you, Meg.’
And his voice...
‘I needed to see you.’
She shoved her shoulders back. ‘I thought we had an agreement?’ He was supposed to stay away.
Was this a fight she would ever win? Her fingers shook as she pressed them to her temples. Would she ever stop needing to breathe him in, to feast her eyes on him, to wipe those haunted shadows from his eyes?
I love you!
Why couldn’t that be enough?
She dragged her hands down into her lap and clenched them. ‘Why?’
She might not be able to harden her heart against him, but she could make sure they didn’t draw this interview out any longer than necessary.
‘I realised something this afternoon.’ The pulse at the base of his jaw pounded. ‘And once I did I had to see you as soon as I could.’
Her heart slammed against her ribs. Just looking at him made a pulse start to throb inside her. She folded her arms. ‘Are you going to enlighten me?’
He stared at her as if at an utter loss. ‘I...uh...’ He moistened his lips. ‘I realised that I love you. That I’m
in
love
with you.’
Three beats passed. Bam. Bam. Bam.
And then what he’d said collided with her grey matter. She shoved her chair back and wheeled away from him.
Typical! Ben had missed her and panicked. She got that. But in love with her? Fat chance!
She spun back and folded her arms. ‘The Ben I know wouldn’t have stopped to get flowers and chocolates if he’d had an epiphany like that. He’d have raced straight over here and blurted it out on the front doorstep the moment I opened the door.’
‘Yeah, well, the guy I thought I was wouldn’t have believed any of this possible.’ He shot to his feet, his chair crashing to the floor behind him. ‘The guy I thought I was didn’t believe in love. The guy I thought I was would never have thought he could feel so awkward and at a loss around you, Meg!’
Her jaw dropped. She hitched it back up. ‘None of that means you’re in love with me. I accept that you miss me, but—’
‘Then how about this?’
He strode around the table and shoved a finger under her nose. His scent slugged into her, swirling around her, playing havoc with her senses, playing havoc with her ability to remain upright.
‘For the last month all I’ve been able to think about is you. I’m worried that you’re hurting. I’m worried you’re not eating properly and that you’re working too hard. I’m worried there’s no one around to make you laugh and to stop you from taking the world and yourself too seriously. Every waking moment,’ he growled.
He planted his hands on his hips and started to pace. ‘And then I worry that you might’ve found someone who makes you laugh and forget your troubles.’ He wheeled back to her. ‘Are you dating anyone?’
He all but shouted the question at her. For the first time a tiny ray broke through all her doubts. She tried to dispel it. This was about the baby, not her.
‘Ben, no other man will ever take your place in our child’s affections.’
‘This isn’t about the baby!’ He paced harder. ‘Every waking moment,’ he growled. He spun and glared at her. ‘And then, when I try to go to sleep, you plague my dreams. And, Meg—’ He broke off with a low, mirthless laugh. ‘The things I dream of doing to you—well, you don’t want to know.’
Ooh, yes, she did.
‘For these last two and a half months—eleven weeks—however long it’s been—I’ve been feeling like some kind of sick pervert for thinking of you the way I have been. For having you star in my X-rated fantasies. I’ve struggled against it because you deserve better than that. So much better. It was only today that my brain finally caught up with my body. This is not just a case of out-and-out lust.’
He moved in close, crowding her with his heat and his scent.
‘I want to make love to you until you are begging me for release.’
Her knees trembled at his low voice, rich with sin and promise. Heat pooled low in her abdomen. She couldn’t have moved away from him if she’d wanted to.
‘Because I love you.’
He hooked a hand behind her head and drew her mouth up to his, his lips crashing against hers in a hard kiss, as if trying to burn the truth of his words against her lips.
He broke away before she could respond, before she’d had enough...anywhere near enough.
He grabbed her hand and dragged her towards the back door. ‘Where are we going?’
‘There’s something I want to show you.’
He pulled her all the way across to Elsie’s yard, not stopping till they reached the garden shed. Flinging the door open, he bundled her inside.
In the middle of the floor sat a baby’s crib. A wooden, hand-turned baby’s crib. She sucked in a breath, marvelling at the beauty and craftsmanship in the simple lines. She knelt down to touch it. The wood was smooth against her palm.
‘I’ve been coming here every day to finish it. I wait until you leave for work. I make sure I’m gone again before you get home.’
Her hand stilled. ‘You made this?’
Drawing her back to her feet, he led her outside again. He gestured across to her garden. ‘Who do you think is taking care of all that?’
For the first time in a month she suddenly realised how well kept the garden looked. She swallowed. It certainly wasn’t her doing. She swung to him. ‘You?’
‘Tending your garden, making that crib for our baby—nothing has filled me with more satisfaction in my life before. Meg, you make me want to be a better man.’
He cradled her face in his hands. She’d never seen him more earnest or more determined.
‘I want to build a life with you and our children—marriage, domesticity and a lifetime commitment. That’s what I want.’ His hands tightened about her face. ‘But only with you. It’s only ever been you. You’re my destiny, Meg. You’re the girl I always come home to. I just never saw it till now.’
For a moment everything blurred—Ben, the garden shed, the sky behind it.
‘And if you don’t believe me I mean to seduce you until you don’t have a doubt left. And if you utter any doubts tomorrow I’ll seduce you again, until you can’t think straight and all you can think about is me. And I’ll do that again and again until you do believe me.’
She lifted her hand to his mouth. ‘And if I tell you that I
do
believe you?’ She smiled. A smile that became a grin. She had to grin or the happiness swelling inside her might make her burst. ‘Will you still seduce me?’
That slow, sinfully wicked grin of his hooked up the right side of his mouth. He traced a finger along her jaw and down her neck, making her breath hitch. ‘Again and again and again,’ he vowed, his fingers trailing a teasing path along the neckline of her shirt back and forth with delicious promise.
‘Oh!’ She caught his hand before he addled her brain completely.
‘
Do
you believe me, Meg?’ His lips travelled the same path his finger had, his tongue lapping at her skin and making her tremble.
‘Yes.’ She breathed the word into his mouth as his lips claimed hers.
The kiss transported her to a place she’d never been before—to a kingdom where all her fairytales had come true. She wrapped her arms about his neck, revelling in the lean hardness of his body, and kissed him back with everything she had.
It was a long time before they surfaced. Eventually they broke off to drag oxygen into starved lungs. She smiled up at him.
He grinned down at her. ‘You love me, huh?’