Heart's Duo (Ugly Eternity #4) (14 page)

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Authors: Charity Parkerson

BOOK: Heart's Duo (Ugly Eternity #4)
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“You can take me to bed now.”

Joss’ chuckle at his claim carried away the last dregs of Maddox’s bitterness.

Chapter 7

January…

Sophie:
Red or Black?

Benton:
Is that what I think it is?

Sophie:
Oh yeah, baby. It is. Red or black?

Benton:
Both please?

Sophie:
Pics to come.

*

Benton:
I wonder if anyone’s phone is as molested as mine.

Sophie:
Damn. I’ve never been jealous of an electronic device before.

Benton:
I’ve never been jealous of a dildo, but there it is.

*

Benton:
Missing you.

Sophie:
Awww!

Sophie:
Missing you more.

February…

Sophie:
I sent you something snail mail because I can.

Sophie:
It isn’t much.

Benton:
Anything from you is more than I deserve.

*

Benton:
A green tie? Very domestic.

Sophie:
No sense in ruining a $1000 one the next time I see you.

Benton:
GBP is converting at $1.48 today so…

Sophie:
Smartass

*

Benton:
Happy Valentine’s Day.

Benton:
I have a messenger stopping by your work today.

Sophie:
Don’t spend money on me. But I love it, btw. They just left.

Benton:
I’d buy you the world.

Sophie:
I don’t want the world. Just the slice where you are.

Benton:
Missing you.

*

Sophie:
How was your flight?

Benton:
Landed safely 15 minutes ago.

Sophie:
I already miss you.

Benton:
Still at the airport. I could come back.

Sophie:
LOL

Benton:
I’m serious.

Sophie:
Superman. Get back to work.

March…

Sophie:
Miss you, Superman.

Benton:
What’s up with the Superman thing?

Benton:
and I miss you too.

Sophie:
You’re always flying from place to place, looking sexy and capable.

Benton:
I like that.

*

Benton:
We need to talk.

Sophie:
Nothing good ever starts that way.

Benton:
Sorry. Didn’t mean it that way.

Sophie:
I feel kind of sick now. What’s up?

Benton:
Not like this. Go to the airport. A ticket is waiting.

Sophie:
That sick feeling is getting worse by the minute.

Sophie:
I don’t need to fly 12 hours and miss work for bad news.

Benton:
Get on the damn plane, Sophie.

Sophie:
You’re lucky you’re sexy.

Benton:
No. I’m lucky because I have you.

Sophie:
Smooth-talking Superman.

*

The flight from Louis Armstrong International to Heathrow was the longest in the history of ever. For the life of her, she didn’t know how Benton stood making this trip all the time. Luckily, he’d never been forced to do it with an ominous cloud of doom hanging over his head. From the moment his text rolled in, her mind raced with possibilities. No matter what he said, nothing good ever started with “we need to talk.” Seriously, if he wanted to end things, he could’ve done that over the phone. That was better than forcing her to make this trip, working on an ulcer and having to fly back with a broken heart.

By the time Sophie cleared customs, she was ready to scream. Her nerves were beyond shot. He was waiting for her. Sophie’s breath caught at the first glimpse of Benton. He was wearing a maroon Henley and khakis. His shirt was too tight at the biceps and his hair needed to be combed. She’d never seen a sexier sight. Benton’s face lit when he spotted her. It started at his eyes before moving to his smile. If he was done, it didn’t show in his expression but it would kill her. She cared. Fuck her life. She hadn’t really cared about anyone the way she did Benton in years. It was beautiful and horrible—this new-found knowledge of all the ways he could destroy her.

Benton moved in her direction. Sophie couldn’t see anyone else. They could’ve been alone. Her haze of longing didn’t lift until his lips touched the corner of her mouth, lingering. When her fingers clutched the back of his shirt, the softness of the material surprised her into realizing she was grasping at his waist, scrambling for any part of him she could hang onto. She was fucked—totally and royally—fucked.

“Goddamn. I’ve missed you.” That accent. It never got old. If there was some way she could lick it, she would.

“More,” she somehow squeezed out.

“Are you ready, then?”

Sophie didn’t think he expected an answer since he linked fingers with her and towed her toward the door. As much as she wanted to demand answers, her heart wouldn’t stop sighing over simply being with him. Women’s heads turned his way as they passed. He belonged to her. For now, her stupid brain chimed in, reminding Sophie why she was here.

Somehow she held onto her impatience until they were safely ensconced inside Benton’s Cayenne. “I’m here.”

A dimple appeared in Benton’s cheek, but he kept his eyes locked on the road. “You are.”

“We need to talk,” Sophie reminded him, trying to get the ball rolling. She swore the dimple deepened, but he didn’t respond. At that moment, Sophie hated him a little. “If this was simply a ploy to get me here, you have a cruel sense of humor. I’ve worried myself sick all the way here. You could’ve dumped me over the phone and spared me a trip.”

Benton glanced over, shooting her a look that froze the blood in her veins. The line in his brow said more than words. “Don’t be an idiot.”

She was fairly certain he’d called her an idiot at least three times since they’d met. The third time wasn’t a charm. “Don’t call me an idiot.”

He chuckled, setting her teeth on edge. “Don’t be daft then. Is that better?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Sophie grumbled, making him laugh harder. She loved it when he made that sound. It wasn’t until Benton’s garage door slid down behind them that Sophie realized she’d allowed him to distract her. “Would you put me out of my misery already?”

Benton pulled her luggage from the back, refusing to meet her gaze. “Just come inside.” When she refused to budge, his gorgeous eyes finally found hers. “Please?” Damn it. She couldn’t resist him. It wasn’t fair. Determination to drag the answers she needed from Benton had her feet moving for his front door. She beat him there. It beeped. That brought her up short. “It’s unlocked,” Benton said behind her, towing her luggage up the front steps.

“That’s awesome. I didn’t know you could have a keyless entry for front doors. I’m old school lock and key.”

“It’s connected to my security system,” Benton explained.

Warm air swept over Sophie as she threw open the door. A happy sigh left her before she could stop it. The twenty degree drop in temperature from NOLA to London was fucking with her big time. She seriously hated the cold. Two steps inside the house, Sophie froze. For a minute, all she could do was blink at the vision in front of her. There was a nude woman lounging on Benton’s couch. It was obvious she was attempting to arrange herself in the most provocative way she could. She was good. Sophie couldn’t deny it, but it didn’t change the fact that she was still naked and on Benton’s couch.

“Um, Benton. I don’t think you had that the last time I was here. I mean, when you said I probably didn’t want to know what all this couch did, this didn’t even make the list of things I imagined.”

“Who the hell are you?”

Sophie had been so busy watching Benton, she’d missed the woman’s seductive pose transform into a scramble for cover and outrage as she barked her question. In Sophie’s defense, Benton’s cold indifference held her captivated. Naked women were nothing new. Sophie saw those all the time, but this stranger standing where Benton had been only seconds earlier was new. However, the screeching harpy couldn’t be ignored, but she would have to try harder if she wanted to get underneath Sophie’s skin.

“I’m feeling a bit overdressed. Who are you?”

The brown-haired hooch ignored her, choosing instead to focus on Benton. “Who is this twat?”

Sophie couldn’t help it. She snorted. There wasn’t any doubt it was meant as an insult, but never in her life had she been called such a thing. She didn’t know what the hell was going on, but she knew, she wanted no part of it. Sophie motioned helplessly in the woman’s direction while trying to get a read on Benton. “Um, okay, so some naked chick just called me a twat. I’m not sure what that’s all about. Do I need to go put my things away…go to my brother’s for a little while…I’m at a loss here.”

An odd expression crossed Benton’s features as if she was the strange one in the room. He kissed her forehead. There wasn’t an ounce of warmth in it. As a matter of fact, she was almost positive an ice crystal formed between his lips and her skin. He handed her the suitcase. “It’s okay, baby. Go put your things away and I’ll take care of this.”

The woman was on her feet, moving to intercept Sophie without a scrap of shame before Sophie made it two steps. “Hold up there, trollop. You’re not going anywhere in my house.”

Sophie’s eyebrows hit her hairline. It was a toss-up between trollop and her house. One or the other was about to get the woman’s ass handed to her. Sophie hadn’t decided which one yet. “I haven’t been to jail in this country, but I’m not opposed.” This woman didn’t know her. Sophie spent her days dealing with pissed off tenants who were always late with rent and belligerent. Not to mention, she’d been raised in a military family and was the oldest of four children. This woman didn’t know who she was fucking with.

“Was that a threat?” A wicked smile tugged at Sophie’s mouth, but she didn’t respond. “I should’ve expected as much from some little American whore.” Oh. Fuck. No. Sophie set her bag aside. This bitch was going down. Benton snagged her from behind before she could tear out the woman’s extensions.

“Whoa. There’s no need for that. Sophie meet my ex now sister-in-law, Genevieve. Where is Wesley, anyhow? I can’t imagine he would be happy to know you’re here.” Sophie didn’t struggle against Benton’s hold. She was too fascinated by the way Genevieve’s spiteful expression transformed into the perfect pout. It was like she practiced it in the mirror. Her dark-brown hair, blue eye mixture belonged on a china doll. An evil china doll. Not the cute ones.

“We split up months ago. He tried so hard, but no one can replace you.”

Sophie tried moving out of Benton’s grasp, but he held tight. Glancing over her shoulder, Sophie winked. “It’s okay, babe. I’m definitely going to put my things away now. There’s nothing I can do to her that could possibly make her more pathetic than she is.” The hatred spilling from Genevieve and coating Sophie’s skin was almost enough to choke her, but Sophie persevered. Picking up her bag, she headed for the hall, determined to make it to Benton’s bedroom without further incident. It wasn’t to be.

She almost made it to the doorway leading to the hall before Genevieve attempted one last jibe. “Bitch.”

“Cunt,” Sophie shot back without bothering to as much as glance behind her. If she looked, she might have to kill her. The sound of shuffling feet and a low grunt from Benton tested her, but Sophie didn’t look. Benton and Genevieve would do whatever they would do. She had no control over it whatsoever. All Sophie could do was hope he cared enough about her to throw the whore out.

*

The time spent away from Sophie was slowly killing Benton. He hit town as often as possible, but no more than once every couple of weeks. Even then he couldn’t stay longer than a night before being forced to get back on schedule. It was hell. Some people are lucky in love while others are lucky in money. Rarely do the two things meet. For Benton, those two things never met. Until today, he hadn’t believed it was the universe conspiring against him on the matter. Now, there could be little doubt. He was fate’s bitch. It had been months. Hell, it had been close to a year since he’d heard a peep from Genevieve. Yet on the very day he’d made big plans for Sophie, here the woman was in all her glory—literally. Sophie was probably on her phone, making plans for a return flight even as he attempted muscling Genevieve out the door.

“How could you bring another woman into our home, Ben?” Obviously, she’d parted ways with reality. Benton didn’t bother responding to her nonsense. “Is this how you would treat me after all I’ve meant to you over the years?”

Because he was a bastard and angry, enraged actually, he put her out sans clothes. It was worth it to see her expression as she realized he intended to leave her in that state. “No.” The horror in her voice almost made him laugh. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a damn thing funny about this situation. He ignored her plea, but he couldn’t quite let things go without having some say.

“You mean nothing, Veve. You never have,” he added before locking her out. To be on the safe side, he slid the chain in place. Her incessant banging would only last as long as it took the authorities to arrive or for her to gain some self-respect. It was almost worth wagering over. She’d gotten her licks in. Benton wasn’t walking away unscathed. Tomorrow, he’d likely sport a good-sized bruise across his ribs where her elbow landed. No doubt, his shins would never be the same. None of it came close to matching the ache blooming in the center of his chest.

In his head, the day had gone differently. He’d possessed the highest of hopes. Now, he’d spend part of his day attempting to discern how Genevieve had convinced his alarm carrier to allow her access to his home. The rest of his day, he’d dedicate to getting lit because he definitely didn’t want to remember any of this tomorrow. But first, there was the little matter of allowing Sophie to rip out his heart because no way in hell would she let a naked woman in his house slide.

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