Take Me Under (19 page)

If she fought for him hard enough, they just might be able to smash right through it . . .

And reach the other side.

* * *

T
WO DAYS LATER, DESPITE A COUPLE OF HEATED ARGUMENTS,
B
EN STILL
hadn’t managed to change Reese’s mind about letting him sleep over again, her determination to keep those “limits” on their relationship impossible to crack. He also hadn’t managed to get any closer to getting his fill of her, the need continuing to dig its way deeper into him each day, impossible to ignore. He didn’t know how to explain it, or how to make her understand where he was coming from without revealing far more than he was comfortable with. All he knew was that when he was with her, he had this overwhelming feeling that he was
exactly
where he was meant to be. Yeah, she drove him crazy at times, too fucking stubborn for her own good, but she made him feel better than he had in . . . Hell, she made him feel better than he
ever
had. But like an idiot, he didn’t have the balls to tell her.

Sitting at his desk, he stared out the window at the windblown trees, thinking about the conversation they’d had last night, before he’d headed home. They’d been lying on her sofa, wrapped around each other, still damp with sweat from a deliciously long, grinding fuck, when she’d said, “I’m sorry I didn’t feel like going for a walk down on the beach tonight.” They’d been sticking close to home, since he hadn’t wanted to risk another disaster like the one with Denise. At least not until he had this thing with Reese on steady ground, and knew they could handle the shit from his past without it driving another wedge between them.

“No need to be sorry.” His voice had been rough with satisfaction. “There’s nothing in the world I’d rather be doing than what we just did.”

She’d laughed, but then went quiet as she’d snuggled back against him, hands wrapped around his forearms as he held her close. Eventually, in a soft voice, she’d said, “He told me I was boring.”

“What?”

She’d drawn an unsteady breath. “He said he was bored. Drew did. That he loved me, but that I wasn’t exciting enough for him.”

“I take back what I said before,” he’d ground out, so furious he could have snapped the fucker in two. “He’s not just stupid, he’s a moron.” A moron they’d learned was currently at a legal conference in Northern California with the receptionist Reese had caught him banging.

Smiling at him over her shoulder, she’d said, “For such a badass, you’re awfully sweet, Sheriff Hudson.”

“That’s just ’cause I’m trying to put you under my spell,” he’d teased, his voice still rough with anger. But he wasn’t going to take it out on her.

“Why?”

“Why what?” he’d asked, distracted by the way she was looking at him, her eyes all glowing and soft.

“What do you want out of this, Ben?” She’d sat up and turned toward him, tucking a glossy strand of hair behind her ear. “I promised myself I wasn’t going to ask you that question, but this week has been so overwhelming and . . .
intense
. I just . . . I need at least a glimmer of what’s going on in your head.”

Panic had instantly lodged itself in his throat like a boulder. Instead of answering, he’d bent one of his arms behind his head, and had asked, “What do
you
want out of it?”

Taking a deep breath, she’d held his gaze as she spoke. “I . . . I know that I don’t want to get hurt. But I don’t want to walk away from you, either.”

“Then don’t.”

When she’d realized that was all he was going to say, she moved to stand up, but Ben had caught her wrist and tugged her back down to the sofa, pinning her beneath the hard weight of his body. Pushing her hair back from her face, he’d stared down into her stormy eyes and struggled to find the right thing to say before he completely fucked things up. It took him a few moments, but he’d finally told her, “I don’t know how to have these kinds of conversations, Reese. I know I’m not any good at this, but if you can just be patient, I promise I’ll try not to screw it up.”

“I’m not trying to pressure you,” she’d said, staring up at him like she was trying to solve a puzzle. Trying to get inside his head and figure out what his fucking problem was. If he was worth fighting for, or if it was better just to wash her hands of him now and find some other guy who wasn’t so emotionally stunted. “I’m just trying to get you to talk to me.”

“I know, honey. But you want me to talk about feelings and all that shit, and I . . . I’m not any good at—”

“Just forget it,” she’d said, cutting him off. It’d been clear from her expression that she was disappointed. “You don’t have to say anything. This was obviously a bad idea. I’m being an idiot.”

“No, you’re not.” He’d lowered his head, kissing his way across a soft, freckled cheek. “You’re beautiful and fun and so sexy I can’t think straight when I’m around you.”

“You’re nuts,” she’d whispered, turning adorably pink.

His voice rough with emotion, Ben had stared into her eyes, swallowed back his fear, and finally forced out at least a few of the words he’d wanted to say. “I
want
you, Reese. More than I’ve ever wanted anything. Just . . . give me a chance to prove that to you, okay? To prove that I won’t hurt you.”

Which could very well be bullshit, he realized in the bright light of day, furious with himself for being such a pathetic bastard. If his track record was anything to go by, there was a good chance she wouldn’t come out of this unscathed. Not if he stuck around long enough to do the damage. According to Brit, it was a learned behavior for him: Hurt before you get hurt. One he’d no doubt picked up at an early age, after watching his parents’ screwed-up marriage. He could fight it all he wanted, but Ben had a strong suspicion that the harder he fell for Reese, the stronger that instinct would eventually kick in.

But Christ, he didn’t want that to happen.

He’d been telling himself from the beginning that she wouldn’t want anything serious. That she’d be happy with an exclusive, but short-term arrangement, same as him, until they both decided it was time to move on. But as he’d lain on that couch, staring into those dark blue eyes, he’d had to question if that was really what he wanted. Because the idea of walking away from her made him feel like he’d been kicked in the gut. Somehow, his old lifestyle wasn’t some safety line waiting down the road for him. It was a fucking death knell ringing in his ears, because it meant that the best damn thing to have ever happened to him would have slipped through his fingers.

She’d had an early lunch date with Brit at eleven, and was going to meet up with Connie after that to do some shopping for a few new pieces of furniture. Hoping she was done, Ben tried to call her cell phone—he’d given it back to her on Wednesday evening—but it went straight to her voice mail. He left her a message, telling her that he had to finish up some work at the station and to give him a call if she wanted him to bring something over for dinner. Even though they weren’t sharing a bed, they were still eating together every night, and then screwing like a couple of minks, until she kicked his ass out when it got late. And he was getting damn tired of that scenario. With any other woman, yeah, it would have been the way he played it. Screw her through the mattress, then head home, where he could enjoy a good night’s sleep without someone clinging to him, setting expectations he was never going to meet . . . and didn’t even want to. But everything inside him rebelled against the idea of leaving Reese alone.

Just like he had on Monday night, Ben wanted to hold her through the quiet hours of darkness. Wanted to feel the warmth of her breath on his chest, the softness of her skin pressed along his. He just . . . wanted her. Badly. And even though it still scared the shit out of him, there was a part of him that just didn’t give a damn anymore. That just wanted to get the woman in his arms and keep her there.

Maybe tonight he’d just wear her out until she collapsed in exhaustion, and she’d fall asleep before she could ask him to leave. If she was prickly about it in the morning, he could always soften her up with his tongue before letting her out of bed. God knew there was nothing he enjoyed more than getting his mouth on that sweet little cunt. He couldn’t get enough of the way she felt, the way she smelled . . . and Christ, the way she tasted nearly killed him. It was a goddamn sensory overload every time he went down on her, his body reverting to some kind of primitive state where her pleasure became an insatiable craving, and he was strung out on the feeling. So much so that his mouth was already watering, his dick loaded and rock hard in his khakis, just from thinking about it.

“Cool it, for chrissakes,” he muttered under his breath. The station was no place for a fucking hard-on. Not if he wanted to avoid being the butt of bad jokes for the rest of his life.

He put in a quick call to Alex, checking to see if his brother had made any progress with the favor he’d asked him. On Wednesday evening, when he and Reese had gone down for another walk along the shore, Ben could have sworn he’d caught sight of the same dark-haired male he’d seen at the beach on Tuesday. But he’d lost him in a crowd gathering for a big beach volleyball tournament, and hadn’t been able to spot him again. Though he couldn’t fucking place him, Ben was positive that he knew the guy from somewhere, and so he’d asked Alex to do some asking around to see what he could uncover. But with so little to go on, Alex still didn’t have anything for him.

Ben had only just set his cell phone back down on his desk when it starting ringing. Thinking it was Reese, he picked up before the second ring, a smile in his voice as he said, “Hudson.”

“Ben, it’s Mike. There’s been an accident.”

He knew, without even being told, that Reese had been involved. The blood drained from his face as he jerked to his feet, his pounding heart trying to lodge itself in his throat. “What happened?” he barked, keeping the phone against his ear as he grabbed his keys and headed for the station’s front doors.

Mike’s tone was grim. “I was in town, having coffee across the street from where it went down. Reese is on her way to the hospital now, but it doesn’t look good, man. She was hit by a fucking car.”

13

B
EN’S STOMACH ROILED, VISIONS OF THE ACCIDENT ON
T
UESDAY
morning still fresh in his mind. Christ, not Reese. The thought of her delicate body caught up in a bone-crushing heap of twisted metal made him want to bellow with rage—but instead, he found himself silently pleading, repeating the same choked words in his head, over and over . . .

Please, God, no
.
Please don’t let her be hurt . . .

Ignoring the worried looks being sent his way as he raced out of the station, Ben sucked in a ragged breath and struggled to find his voice. “What road was she on?” he finally bit out, sunlight glaring into his eyes as he headed for his truck, the phone still pressed against his ear. “Was it a head-on? What the fuck happened, Mike?”

His brother pounded on his horn and shouted at someone for driving like a jackass, then said, “She wasn’t in her car. She was getting ready to cross O’Neill Street on foot. I don’t know all the details. Just that a minivan knocked her into the air and she came down hard.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“I’m sorry, man. I’m on my way to the hospital now. I’ll meet you there, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Feeling like he’d had the goddamn ground ripped out from under him, Ben lowered the phone from his ear, shaking so hard he could barely manage to end the call.
Fuck.
She hadn’t had another one of those creepy texts since that one about flowers, and now this. Had she been hit on purpose . . . or had it been an accident? And why the fuck was the hospital all the way on the other side of town? Turning his siren on, Ben floored the gas, but the minutes that it took him to reach her were still the longest of his life. He’d seen accidents like this too many times not to know how much damage could be done by a moving vehicle. When it was metal against flesh, the body almost always came out the loser. The thought made him physically ill, but he didn’t have time to indulge in any roadside vomiting. He just needed to haul ass and get there as quickly as possible.

He barely remembered parking his truck and running through the hospital corridors. There was nothing but a dark, suffocating desperation churning inside his head until he finally burst into her room, the irritated nurse from reception hot on his heels, and saw for himself that Reese was alive. Hurrying to the side of her bed, he swallowed back his panic as he did a quick visual sweep. “What the hell, baby? Are you okay?”

“I swear it looks worse than it is,” she croaked, giving him a wobbly smile. “I’m fine, Ben.”

“Like hell you are,” he growled, noting the scratches and bruises that covered her arms and face. And those were just the parts of her he could see! Carefully gripping one of her battered hands in his, he asked, “How the fuck did this happen?”

“I don’t really know,” she told him. “One minute I was walking to my car, waving at Connie over my shoulder, and the next thing I knew there was this awful noise and all the air was shoved out of my lungs, really hard. When I tried to move again, I realized I was lying facedown on one of those strips of grass that line the streets in the center of town.”

“Jesus. You’re lucky you’re not dead.”

“Trust me, I know,” she whispered, squeezing his hand.

Narrowing his eyes, he asked, “What was the driver’s story?” He’d been so frantic to reach the hospital, he hadn’t even put in a call to whomever had been on the scene from the sheriff’s department. Did they even have the bastard in custody?

“It wasn’t the minivan’s fault,” Connie said, drawing his gaze to the window, where she was standing, arms crossed tight over her chest. Ben had been so focused on Reese that he hadn’t even noticed she was there. “The van was just reacting to the asshole in the truck.”

His gaze got even sharper. “What truck?”

Connie’s mouth was a flat, tense line, her face still pale with fear. “I don’t know. It sped off after Reese was hit. But it had been pulling up beside her for some reason, on the wrong side of the road. When the van turned the corner and saw the truck in its lane, the driver swerved, and that’s when she was hit.”

Ben scowled, wondering why the truck had been pulling up beside Reese. “Did you see who was driving the truck?” he asked Connie. “Or get a license plate number?”

She shook her head as she frowned. “I’m sorry, Ben, but no. The windows were tinted, so I don’t think anyone got a clear look at the driver. And once Reese was hit, we were all just trying to help her.”

He gave Connie a look that said they needed to talk more later, then looked back down at Reese. Pushing her hair back from her bruised face, he asked, “What have the doctors said?”

“That I’m fine, just like I told you.” She struggled to sit up a little higher, until he told her to hold still and reached down, pressing the button on the control panel that raised the head of the bed. She thanked him, then said, “They want to keep me overnight, just for observation. And they’re going to do an MRI in a little while, just to make sure everything’s okay. But there aren’t any real concerns.” A wry grin curled the corner of her mouth. “I’m apparently very bouncy.”

His chest shook with a breathless laugh. “Well thank God for that,” he murmured, leaning down and pressing a careful kiss to her scraped forehead.

A nurse came in with some pain meds and to check her vitals, and after making a quick phone call to the station, Ben joined Connie by the window, deliberately keeping his voice too low for Reese to overhear. Despite having survived the ordeal with miraculously minimal damage, he knew the experience had left her shaken. He didn’t want to say anything that would upset her even more at that moment, but he was worried as hell about what the truck had been doing so close to her. Had the driver planned to abduct her? Sideswipe her? Shoot her with a fucking gun? Whatever the reason, his gut told him that she’d been a target, and it made him want to go for blood.

He hadn’t been talking to Connie for more than a few minutes, the nurse still busy with Reese, when another nurse opened the door to her room and poked her head inside.

“Ms. Monroe, there’s another visitor here to see you. A Mr. Leighton.”

Reese’s jaw instantly dropped. “What?” she gasped, looking completely stunned.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Ben snarled, moving toward the door with a hard, purposeful stride.

The nurse shot a startled look in his direction. “Sheriff Hudson? Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine,” he barked, his tone sending her scurrying back as he grabbed the door, jerking it wide open. “Tell Mr. Leighton that I’ll talk to him in the hallway.”

“Ben, no!” Reese protested, trying to lower the safety bar at the side of her bed as the nurse she’d been talking to quickly left the room.

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, jabbing his finger at her in an order for her to stay put. “You set one toe out of that bed, Reese, and I’m spanking your ass. You understand?”

Ben didn’t wait for her response, more than ready to confront this son of a bitch on his own. Shutting the door to her room behind him, he turned and headed toward the hotshot lawyer, who was waiting a few yards down the hallway, near the nurses’ station. Mike stood nearby, back braced against the corridor wall, his dark gaze focused sharply on Leighton, who was dressed in an expensive-looking suit and tie, a young, aggressive looking blonde hovering near his side. Mike had obviously made it clear that Leighton wasn’t getting past him, and the guy wasn’t happy about it. The lawyer’s pretty-boy face was flushed with anger, a scowl wedged deep between his golden brows.

Planting himself in the middle of the hallway, Ben crossed his arms over his chest and locked his hard gaze with Leighton’s. “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded in a gritty rasp, thinking it was a good thing he’d left his gun locked in his glove box. If he found out this prick had tried to hurt Reese, he knew he’d be tempted to shoot him.

Looking thoroughly insulted by his question, Leighton said, “I could ask you the same thing. I happen to be here to see my
wife
.”

Ben gave the jackass a sharp smile. “
Ex
-wife. Let’s not forget that she divorced your sorry ass.”

The lawyer’s pale blue eyes narrowed with suspicion. “If I had to guess, I’d say that you’re not here in a professional capacity, Sheriff Hudson.”

“And you’d be right,” Ben drawled, watching Leighton’s face get redder as his breathing quickened. The guy looked like he was hanging on to his control by a thread, and Ben had every intention of pushing him further, needing to see just how violently the arrogant prick would react. “And now you’re going to tell me what the fuck you’re doing in Moss Beach.”

“That’s none of your business,” the blonde sneered, curling her lip as she plastered herself against Leighton’s side. Ben would have been willing to bet some serious money that this was the infamous Lizzie, whom Reese had caught her husband screwing. He couldn’t imagine what the idiot had been thinking, cheating on his wife with this bitter bitch. She had the curves and a store-bought finish—towering heels, a pricey business suit, and makeup that looked like it’d been professionally caked on—but it wasn’t hard to see that beneath the glitz, she was hard as stone.

“I told you to keep your mouth shut if you came with me,” Leighton muttered under his breath, jerking his arm out of the blonde’s hold. Then he turned his attention back to Ben. “I’m in town because I wanted to make sure that Reese was doing okay after the move. The last time we talked, she sounded . . . upset.”

Lowering his arms, Ben took a step closer. “She told you she was fine and to leave her alone.”

Those pale eyes went wide, then narrowed again to hot, glittering slits. “You were with her when I called, weren’t you?”

Hooking his thumbs in his front pockets, Ben curled his lips in a sly smile. “Reese and I are neighbors now, so we get to spend a
lot
of time together.”

A shudder moved through Leighton’s stiff frame. His nostrils flared. “You fucking touch her and I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Ben pressed, knowing damn well the lawyer didn’t have the balls to fight him. It was written all over the asshole’s face. Leighton might be pissed, but he was still a fucking pussy. He’d never go up against someone bigger and meaner than he was, but God, Ben wished he would throw a punch so that he could go ahead and wipe the floor with the smarmy bastard.

Ready to cut through the bullshit and start getting some serious answers, he opened his mouth to ask his next question, but was cut off by Reese’s tense voice coming from behind him. “What are you doing here, Drew?”

“What the hell?” Ben growled, shooting her a dark look over his shoulder. “Get back in bed, Reese!”

Completely disregarding that sharp bark of command, the stubborn woman started shuffling toward him, arms holding the overlapping sides of a robe closed at the front to hide the thin hospital gown she was wearing. She had scrapes on her forehead and chin, the way she was favoring her right side no doubt the sign of some serious bruising on the left side of her body. But the steely look in her eyes was anything but cowed.

Leighton’s next words came out hoarse with concern. “My God, Reese. Look at you. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” She moved a little closer to Ben’s side, but kept her eyes locked on her ex. Ben noticed that she hadn’t even spared a glance at Lizzie, who was still hovering near Leighton like a protective pit bull. Voice surprisingly steady, Reese said, “You shouldn’t be here, Drew.”

A possessive gleam burned in the lawyer’s eyes as he held her stare. “I know you’re angry, but I’m not going back to Boston until we talk. I miss you and I want—”

“Don’t come near me!” she snapped, when he took a step toward her.

Leighton’s jaw tightened. “What the fuck, Reese? You’re my
wife
.”

She pulled her shoulders back. “Not anymore. Which should be evident by the woman you’ve brought with you today.”

“Lizzie came as my friend,” he said emphatically. “Nothing more.”

A tired laugh slipped past her lips as she shook her head. “I couldn’t care less why she’s here. I just want you both gone. But first, Drew . . . first I want to know how you got my new number.”

His lips thinned. “You gave it to Valerie before you left town. She gave it to me when I asked for it.”

“Who’s Valerie?” Ben murmured, sliding a supportive arm around Reese’s waist, since he needed to hold her, and she looked like a strong wind might blow her over. But he knew she was a hell of a lot tougher than she looked.

Reese glanced up at him as she answered his question. “She’s a friend I worked with in Boston who I thought I could trust.” Glaring at Leighton again, she added, “I was obviously wrong.”

The guy turned a violent shade of red, his furious gaze taking in the way Ben was holding her, before cutting back to her face. “It was just a fucking phone number.”

“One that I didn’t want you to have, so please don’t call it again.” She took a deep breath, then quietly added, “And don’t text me, either.”

“I haven’t sent you any damn texts,” he bit out, rubbing a rough hand over his mouth. Then his pale gaze slowly darkened with understanding. “This is about more of that stalker bullshit, isn’t it? God, Reese. You can keep throwing it in my face like you did in Boston, but I’m not the one responsible.” He shoved his hair back from his brow, before muttering, “If the asshole even exists.”