Once in a Lifetime (18 page)

O
nce again Aubrey woke up to a text message that was making her phone vibrate on her nightstand. But this one was from Ben and read:

Odd, she thought. He’d never felt the need to announce his presence to her before. In fact, he seemed to get a kick out of surprising her.

A glance at her clock told her that she had half an hour to get up and get out to water Mr. Wilford’s pumpkin patch—which still wasn’t growing yet, damn it—and be back here to open on time.

But the text was making her curious. Rolling out of bed, she tiptoed down the stairs to see what he might be doing that he’d found it necessary to warn her about.

He was sitting on the counter in front of the coffee and tea station, sipping from a to-go cup from Leah’s bakery. She could tell by his clothes—slacks and a button-down shirt topped by a jacket—that he was going to his job. His real job. She’d seen him in jeans and a tool belt covered in sawdust, and she liked that look a lot. She’d also seen him in nothing.
That
particular memory gave her a flash of heat, because Ben in nothing was the hottest thing she’d ever seen. That was definitely her favorite look, but seeing him like this, a little dressed up, his broad shoulders stretching his dress shirt to its limits, the top button undone, his tie still loose, as though he weren’t quite ready to settle into work for the day, did something serious to her insides.

Get a grip
. She tiptoed closer, wanting to catch him unawares, the way he always caught her. Two feet from him, she was grinning widely, like an idiot, her hands outstretched to scare him, when he suddenly twisted and locked eyes on her.

“Damn it,” she said.

“The top step creaks.”

“I should hire someone to fix that,” she said drily.

He didn’t answer. He was busy taking in the very skimpy tank top and tiny boy shorts she’d slept in. From the heat in his gaze, she could tell he liked the view. But when he reached for her, she took a step back, out of his range.

“Come here.”

Shaking her head, she covered her mouth with her hands. “Morning breath.”

“I don’t care.”

He wasn’t scared off by much, she knew. Well, except for a committed relationship, and at that thought, her mood went a little south. “I’m going to shower,” she said, and when his eyes darkened with interest, she shook her head. “
Alone
.”

He took another sip of his steaming drink. “I’m really good in the shower.”

Her nipples got perky, and she crossed her arms over herself, making him laugh softly.

“Go get dressed,” he said. “I’ve started a new book club.”

“What?” That’s when she realized she could hear voices.
Little
voices. And then another, not little voice, but a low baritone, and she stared at Ben in horror.

He straightened, set down his drink, and pulled off his jacket, which he wrapped around her. It was warm, and it smelled like him, and it fell to her thighs. Putting a finger to his lips, he took her hand, leading her to the half wall. Then, holding her in front of him, he pressed on her shoulders until she ducked low.

He crouched behind her, cradling her body within his, stroking a hand down her back while she did her best not to notice that he smelled so good she wanted to inhale him.

And/or lick him as though he were a lollipop.

Pressing his jaw to hers, he gestured with his chin to look ahead.

Seated on one of her couches were Pink and Kendra. Their legs were short enough to stick straight out, and they each held a stack of books on their laps. In between them was a man who looked so much like them he could have been their older brother. He was reading out loud from one of Aubrey’s favorite children’s books, and the girls were enraptured, staring up into his face, hanging on every single word.

“That’s their dad,” Ben whispered against her ear. “Dan Ingalls. He’s got visitation rights.”

She craned her neck and looked up at Ben. Once again, he had a several-day-old scruff going on his jaw, and she wanted him to rub it over her body. “Since when?” she whispered, barely staying on topic.

“Since always, apparently. He just didn’t exercise them. Until now.”

There was something in his voice. Relief, she thought, and reached for his hand. “You did this,” she said. “You brought them together.”

He shook his head. “It’s just a visit. I don’t know if he’s really into it.” He looked at the little girls hanging on every word as their dad read the book.

Her heart squeezed at how important this was to him. The girls had seriously insinuated themselves into his heart. He was invested, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

And as wrong as it was to think it, it gave her hope. Because maybe he could get invested in something else, too.
Someone
else.

Someone like her…

Two days later, Aubrey closed the store, ran her receipts, and realized something shocking. “I broke even today,” she said aloud in surprise.

Ben, who’d showed up after work, changed into jeans, and gotten busy on the back shelves, poked his head around the corner. He was covered in a layer of sawdust. “What?”

“I broke even,” she marveled.

He flashed her a smile. “Congratulations.” He held out a hand. “Come on. I’ll buy you a drink.”

They went to the Love Shack.

Aubrey was halfway through a tall, cold beer when Pastor Mike walked in the front door and headed to a table. He stopped short at the sight of Aubrey at the bar and then changed direction and headed straight for her.

Crap. She shoved her beer so that it was in front of Ben and lifted her hands the way a basketball player did when he’d just fouled but was trying to pretend he hadn’t.

“Aubrey,” Pastor Mike said, calm and quiet as ever, but the concern and worry were there in his eyes as he took in the two beers in front of Ben. He glanced at Ben, nodded, and then his attention came back to her. “How are you doing?”

“I’m good.
Really
,” she added.

He nodded. “And you know you can call me.”

“Yes,” she said emphatically. “I know I can call you.”

“Anytime.”

“Anytime,” she repeated, adding what she hoped was a confidence-boosting nod. “Thank you.”

When he’d walked way, she blew out a breath, belatedly realizing Ben was looking at her. “What?” she asked.

“Anything you want to tell me?”

“Such as…?”

“Well, either you’re having a fling with Pastor Mike or he thinks you’re an alcoholic.”

Aubrey grimaced. She wasn’t sure which excuse to go with. “Maybe I found God.”

Ben just looked at her.

She racked her brain, but there really wasn’t a good option. “Okay, I didn’t know how to tell you, but Pastor Mike and I are madly in love.”

Ben shook his head. “Don’t ever play poker.”

Damn it. “Okay, so he thinks I’m an alcoholic.”

“Well, I guess that’s better than your sleeping with him,” Ben said.

Interesting that
that
would bug him.

“Why would he think you’re an alcoholic?” he asked.

“It’s…complicated.”

A laugh gusted out of him. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Oh, like
you’re
a piece of cake,” she said, and crossed her arms, insulted. “You know what? I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Do you ever?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re not exactly Mr. Talkative yourself, you know. You’re always sticking your nose in my business about the list and all, but you’re holding on to plenty of secrets yourself.”

He tossed back his drink and set it down. Then he stood up and held out his hand. “Come on.”

She looked at him, suddenly wary. “Where to?”

“Chicken?” he asked quietly.

How was it that he knew all her buttons? “Of course not.”

“So then…” He waggled his fingers.

She stared at them and then, with a sigh, let him pull her up.

He brought her to his place. Jack’s side of the duplex was dark. So was Ben’s, until he unlocked and opened the front door, reached in, and turned on a light.

“What are we doing here?” she asked, hesitating on the front step. Nothing good was going to come of stepping inside.

Okay, scratch that.
Everything
good would come of it, but—

“I want to show you something.”

“Oh, boy, I know this game,” she said with a lightness she didn’t feel.

He smiled. “Something else.”

“What?”

He looked at her for a long moment. “Okay, but after I show you, I don’t want you to get all weird and try to close yourself off.”

“I don’t do that.”

He gave her a long look.

“Fine,” she said, caving. “I totally do that. It’s my thing.”

“Don’t do it to me,” he said very seriously, very solemnly.

She stared into his eyes, butterflies bouncing around inside her now. “All right.”

“Promise.”

“Seriously?” She sighed when he didn’t budge. “Okay, I promise not to shut you out. Jeez, I didn’t know you had such tender feelings.”

He out-and-out laughed at that, and then pulled her through the living room to the kitchen. There, he shoved open a door that led to his garage.

He gave her a look that made an odd feeling begin to course through her. Nerves. Then he flipped on the light, and she gasped at the beautiful handmade wooden dollhouse.

H
eart pounding, Aubrey walked to the dollhouse and ran her fingers over the meticulously handcrafted wood. It was beautiful. She wasn’t sure how long she stood there before she felt Ben’s hand run down her back.

“I don’t have any tissues,” he said, “but you can use my shirt if you want.”

She let out a laugh to hide her sob. “Why? Why did you do this?”

His hand was still on her. He was stroking her as though he just liked the feel of her beneath his hand, but it didn’t escape her notice that he didn’t answer.

With an unsteady breath, she touched the dollhouse again. It was a three-story Victorian, as hers had been when she was a child. Unlike that one, however, this dollhouse was made entirely of wood—no plastic or cardboard anywhere—and it was of heirloom quality. If she’d been a child, she’d have spent hours having her dolls run up and down the spiral staircase, peek out the numerous windows, and swing open the front door. “Thank you,” she whispered. Ali and Leah were right. Her gut was right. She needed to tell him why he was on the list.

But she wasn’t ready to lose him.

A little voice deep inside her warned that the longer she waited, the worse the consequences would be, but she told that voice to shut up. She arched a little so that Ben’s hand pressed harder against her back. “Ben…”

He stroked her again, slowly this time, more purposefully. She waited for him to speak, but he didn’t. His silence was loaded now, weighted with hunger and desire. Her heart kicked into a fast, heavy beat, and everything within her tightened with need.

For him. “
Ben.
”

His hand moved on her again, stroking her hair, then softly sweeping it aside. She felt his mouth against the nape of her neck and was working at drawing in a desperate breath when he turned her around to face him. Cupping her jaw, he kissed her, stealing away the air she’d managed to drag in. His mouth was firm, just like the rest of his hard, warm body, and so male that she melted into him. By the time he finally lifted his head and met her gaze, she’d wrapped herself around him like a pretzel.

“Your choice,” he said.

There was no choice. She needed him more than she needed air. And she needed air pretty damn bad. There were a lot of reasons why she should still take the closing-herself-off option, but she knew she wasn’t going to. She wanted him to put his hands and his mouth on her. She wanted him to work his magic, and he
was
magic. He was a masterful lover, intuitive and shockingly sensitive. She wanted him to do all the things his eyes were promising, and she wanted that now. “My choice is you,” she said.

She’d barely gotten the words out before his mouth was back on hers. He kissed her hard and then pulled back to look at her for a beat before he kissed her again.

And then again.

And then he lifted her up so that her legs wrapped around him. He carried her from the garage to his bedroom, letting her down by his bed, slowly sliding her along his body. Then he stripped her with slow care, groaning as he bared her to his satisfaction. Lowering his head, he splayed his hands on her bare back, drawing her close. Opening his mouth on first one breast, and then the other, he teased her with his tongue, sucking and nibbling.

She moaned—a low, desperately hungry sound—as she slid her fingers into his hair, holding his head to her. She couldn’t help it. She was trying to climb his body as though it were a tree when he stepped back and pulled off his own clothes in a few smooth, economical movements.

She just stared at him. His body was incredible, and she didn’t think she’d ever get tired of looking at it.

He still hadn’t spoken a word.

She might have thought he was entirely unmoved, except he was sporting an impressive erection that made her mouth water. She was still staring at it in awe, thinking
In me now
, when he gave her a nudge and she fell backward onto the bed.

He followed her down, and she moaned again when he kissed her, long and deep. And then he kissed every inch of her, slowly and thoroughly, until she came. Exploded, really.

He put on a condom and entered her, and she came again. Instantly. She cried out in surprise and shock as it went on and on, endless shudders and ripples of pleasure. She was vaguely aware of the sounds she was making and might have been horrified, but she realized she wasn’t the only one. When her senses returned, Ben was still over her, muscles quaking, breathing as harshly as she.

After a moment, he rolled off the bed and went into the bathroom.

She told herself to get up and get dressed and then get out. She needed to do so before her heart got any more invested than it already was. Trembling like a leaf, she took a long moment to even sit up, and by then Ben was back. He stood at the side of the bed, voice low, eyes dark and direct. “Stay,” he said. And then he slid in beside her, pulling the covers over the top of them, dragging her in against him.

Oh, God. God, he felt so good. But this wasn’t real. She needed to remind them both of that and set some boundaries. For his sake. “Ben—”

“Sleep,” he said, voice gruff.

“But—”

He tightened his grip. Her cheek was on his chest, her thigh between his. She was breathing in his scent with every breath and couldn’t remember ever feeling so content in her life. She didn’t close her eyes, she didn’t want to miss a second of this, because it wouldn’t last. It couldn’t. Unable to resist, she let her hand drift over his chest. It was a beautiful chest, broad and sculpted and spattered with light hair from pec to pec. He was warm and hard, and he hummed his pleasure at her touch. “Okay?” he asked quietly in the dark, tightening his grip.

She nodded against him. She was so far more than okay that it was terrifying.

They slept some then, and she woke up in the gray light of dawn, violently aroused. Ben was between her legs, working his magic with his tongue. She came before she had all her faculties working, and then he rose over her and kissed her, slow and unrushed.

Their joining was much more leisurely this time, but no less hot. Maybe it was because they knew each other’s bodies now, or maybe it was just sheer animal magnetism, but when he finally slid into her and began a series of driving thrusts, she went out of her mind. And when she climaxed, she nearly burst out of her skin as well.

Afterward, he held her for a long time, and Aubrey reveled in it, afraid of what might happen when full daylight came.

“Shh,” he murmured, sounding sleepy.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re thinking so hard you’re making me tired.” He stroked a big hand down her back to possessively cup her ass, holding her close. “Sleep.”

She didn’t. Couldn’t.

He made a noise like that of a rumbling lion and rolled her beneath him, pinning her to the mattress.

“What are you doing?” she asked, already breathless.

“Wearing you out so you can sleep.” He kissed her mouth, her chin, her throat, her shoulder. A nipple. And as he headed further south, she gasped and arched, sliding her fingers into his hair. “Omigod.”

“No,” he said. “Just Ben.”

She started to laugh, but then he got creative with his tongue, and she cried out instead.

He made good on his promise. A long time later, they both flopped to the mattress, breathing raggedly, sated, and completely worn out.

When Aubrey woke again, the sun was shining. She slipped from Ben’s arms and stared down at him, still asleep on the bed. He looked relaxed and young. His jaw was rough with stubble, his hair wild from her fingers. And if she wasn’t mistaken, he had a bite mark on his shoulder. She’d marked him. Fair enough, she thought, since he’d indelibly marked her. On the inside…

She’d done the unthinkable and started the slippery fall from lust to love.

Or maybe she’d fallen for him a long time ago…

Either way, big mistake. She began scooping up her clothes, but she was still trembling, little aftershocks of great sex. She stilled for a moment to gather herself, and then felt two warm hands settle on her arms and pull her back against an even warmer chest. And then a mouth brushed her shoulder.

“Pastor Mike?” she murmured.

A soft laugh huffed against her skin, and then he bit her. She laughed, too, but her smile fell away, and, unable to keep it inside any longer, she turned to face him. “Ben, what are we doing?”

“About to have some hot morning sex?” He reached for her, but she stepped back, her knees wobbling so badly she sank into a chair.

“But it’s
just
sex,” she said, meeting his gaze, trying to be as calm as he always was. “Right?”

He held her gaze but dropped his hands from her. “Aubrey—”

“I need to know, Ben. I need to know because I can’t be in this all by myself. I can’t. I—” God, she was such a hypocrite. She wanted him, like this, just like this. But there was the secret between them, one he didn’t even know about. She covered her face.

“Hey,” he said gently, kneeling beside her chair, placing his hands on her legs. “I thought you wanted it to stay simple, too.”

“I do.” But as he’d pointed out several times, nothing was ever simple with her. “Or I thought I did,” she added.

He held her gaze, but his own was a little hooded now. “I think of you all the time. And I know an awful lot of it is sex—an awful lot,” he said. “But not all.”

Her heart did a funny dance. Either hope, or terror, she wasn’t sure which.

Both
, she decided. Definitely both.

“But,” he went on slowly, still holding her gaze prisoner, because he was far braver than she was, “I didn’t need this. I didn’t want this in my life,” he said.

“I know.” She rose abruptly. “I’ve worked hard to keep this just sex—for you, Ben, for
your
comfort level, so you wouldn’t think I was trying to drag you into a committed relationship.” She turned back and found him standing right there, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You’re not going to turn into a lapdog, Ben.”

His arms closed around her hard. “No?”

“No. And even though I risk breaking my own no-emotions clause, I care about you,” she admitted. “More than I wanted to. Much more.”

He stared at her as if she’d just told him she was carrying a nuclear bomb.

“It’s supposed to be a compliment,” she said, and backed away. “One you aren’t expected to return. You know that, right?”

“Goddamn it,” he said, and she started at his shocking vehemence, because he never raised his voice. In fact, unless he had his tongue in her mouth, or any of his other body parts entangled with hers, it was difficult to tell what he was feeling.

But she felt his feelings now, loud and clear. Shock. Anger.

Fear.

Sympathy flooded her. He, the guy who was seemingly afraid of nothing, was afraid of her feelings for him. Or maybe he was afraid of what he felt for her.

Not that she blamed him. He’d already given a woman everything he had, and she was gone. “My feelings aren’t meant to be a burden,” she said softly. “But I won’t apologize for them, or take them back.”

He closed his eyes. “I care about you, too, Aubrey, but…”

“But you don’t want to. I get it.” It shouldn’t hurt. At all. “Never mind,” she said. “Subject change.”

“You knew my feelings on this,” he said. “From the beginning.”

“Yeah. Got them loud and clear,” she said.

He studied her for a beat. “Caring about someone means you’re open,” he finally said.

“What are you saying, that you’re not open?”

“I’m open,” he said. “I’m an open book.” He lifted his hands out to his sides. “What you see is what you get.”

Suddenly she knew what he was getting at, and her heart kicked again. “And you don’t think that’s the case with me.”

“You’re smoke and mirrors, Aubrey.”

Her heart started pounding. He knew. Maybe not the what exactly, but he knew something. “How so?”

“Forget it.”

Forget it?
Was he serious? She’d pulled on her dress. She had one boot on, the other in her hand. “Tell me or I’ll throw this at you.”

He shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “That,” he said. “That right there. You dress like you’re going to some fancy tea, but underneath the clothes you’re ready to brawl for anything you believe in. You want people to think you’re tough and that you don’t care what anyone thinks, but you do. You care. A lot.” He met her gaze. “You care too much.”

“Well, I’m not going to apologize for that, either!”

“So why do you keep it your dirty secret?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your list,” he said, and her stomach sank, because here it came. Doomsday. “When are you going to tell me about the list?” he asked quietly.

She looked into his eyes and knew it was a huge risk, but she had to do it or lose him right here and now. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

She let out a long, shaky breath. “About a month ago, I kind of wandered into a weekly AA meeting by accident.”

“How do you wander into AA by accident?”

“Well, I was—” Running from
him
, in fact. “That’s not the important part. The important part is that when I was there, something happened.”

“Pastor Mike.”

She nodded. “No. Well, yes. Pastor Mike happened. He thought—” She broke off with a grimace. “He thought I was an alcoholic, so he brought me into that meeting.”

He stared at her. “You went to an AA meeting even though you’re not an alcoholic.”

“Yes. I know. But in the meeting I heard something that struck a chord with me.”

“And that was?”

“Make amends with people you’ve wronged.”

He stared at her, and then his eyes softened. “Everyone’s made mistakes, Aubrey.”

Some more than others…
“I know,” she said. “I’m just trying to own mine.” She was going to have to tell him, and her knees went weak with fear and anxiety.

A frown of concern creased his brow, but just as he stepped toward her, there came the unmistakable sound of Ben’s front door opening.

Ben had his jeans on in a wink. Leaving them unfastened, he headed out to the living room, eyes flat and calm, body perfectly relaxed and yet somehow braced for violence at the same time.