The Bottom Line (18 page)

“You’re staying, right?” Jules asked.

With a nod, Ben offered her his hand. “Thanks for helping get her home.”

Instead of shaking his hand, Jules gathered him into a quick hug. “Thanks for getting this place ready for her. The master suite’s great. Wonderful, actually.”

In turn, Danielle and Bethany also gave him a hug, murmuring their appreciation for what he’d done to help their friend. He hadn’t done it for their praise, but their words were nice to hear.

Standing at the front door, he made sure the ladies made it to their cars and exchanged waves with them as they drove away.

“Ben?” Mallory called, her voice weak.

“Coming, baby.” He took the stairs two at a time.

She was propped up on a mound of pillows, her eyes weighted as though she’d drop back to sleep at any moment. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Heading around to her side of the bed, he saw another pillow shaped like a round tube resting against her side, supporting her left arm. “You’ve got quite a collection of pillows.”

“They help. Danielle’s sister is a nurse. Her advice on stuff like that got me through the last surgery.” A yawn slipped out.

“You should sleep.”

Mallory nodded. “Stay with me?”

“Of course. Where else would I be?”

“With Amber.”

“She’s in Texas, remember?”

Her brow knit before understanding dawned. “Yeah… I forgot.”

Leaning in, he kissed her forehead. “Anesthesia and painkillers will do that.” His gaze took in the things the ladies had left on the nightstand. A glass of water. Tissues. Mallory’s phone. A prescription bottle. Problem was that they were all on her left. If Mallory was alone, she wouldn’t be able to reach with her left hand—at least not without causing her pain.

Good thing he’d stayed. “Need anything?”

“Nah.” With her right hand, she scratched Rascal, who was back at her side, behind the ears. The cat had curled up against her hip. Mallory patted the mattress. “You must be tired, too. Come lay down with me?”

Tired? Not a bit, but if it would help her sleep, he’d lie at her side until she drifted off. After kicking off his shoes, he almost flopped on the bed before realizing it might hurt her by upsetting her cocoon of pillows. Instead, he stretched out next to her, trying not to squish her cat by moving too close. Ben took her hand and cradled it against his stomach before closing his eyes.

“Thank you, Ben.”

“Stop thanking me.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Makes it sound like you think I did something special.”

“You did. I mean… look at this room and my bathroom. They’re wonderful.”

“You’re paying me for that, remember?” He allowed himself a smile. “I’m glad you like it, though.”

“That’s why I’m thanking you.” Her fingers squeezed his.

While he wanted to tell her he’d have done all of it for nothing, he bit his tongue. Mallory was doped up and in pain. Despite his earlier decision, this wasn’t the time to confess that he’d fallen in love with her. She’d forgotten Amber was with Theresa. She’d probably forget his declaration as well.

They’d be able to talk about something that serious when she was better.

On the other hand, the time he’d spent worrying about her in that waiting room had taken a toll. If there’d been any question at all that he loved her, that question would have been decidedly answered by the anxiety he experienced over her well-being and the relief that washed over him when the nurse told him she’d come through the surgery with flying colors.

Ben rolled to his side, wanting to see again that she was doing well. He was surprised to find her staring intently at him. Her chocolate eyes no longer looked sleepy. “Did you need something, Mal?”

“I do.”

He pushed up on his elbow. “What? A drink? Some ice chips? What do you need?”

“To tell you something.” She swallowed hard before a smile bloomed. “I love you.”

His heart slammed in his chest. She took the lead again the same way she did when they made love. Her courage was absolute, clearly much stronger than his own. The only thing spoiling her bold declaration was that her teeth now tugged on her bottom lip, betraying her worry.

He wasn’t about to leave her dangling in the breeze. Since she’d boldly declared her heart, he followed suit. “I love you, too.”

Her eyes searched his, and her hand trembled. “Really?”

Ben nodded.

“When did you decide you loved me?” she asked. “I—I mean, if you remember…”

“I don’t know. No special time. I guess I just… knew.” Although he sounded stupid, he couldn’t think of any better way to explain it. If he tried too hard to describe things—to tell her he’d known with perfect clarity the first time he’d made love to her—she might think his revelation was based on nothing but sex. Far from it.

He simply wasn’t good enough with words to say it so she’d “get it.” So he tried a diversion. “What about you? When did you know?”

Her laughter was a surprise. Not a big guffaw, but a sly giggle that made him believe she’d have understood if he’d taken the time to explain. Her words affirmed that notion. “I knew when you let me spank you.”

He had to laugh along with her. “Never thought I’d have a woman tell me she fell in love with me because I let her hit my ass with a belt.”

“I never thought some guy would let me hit his ass with a belt.” Her giggles were interrupted with a wince.

“Okay. Enough for you, little lady. You’re getting over surgery. You need your rest.”

Settling back against her pillows, Mallory smiled. “Tell me again. Then I’ll sleep.”

Ben carefully rose over her and pressed a kiss to her lips. “I love you, Mallory.”

She wore no makeup. Her hair was mussed. And her eyes were clouded with fatigue and medicines. Yet her smile was breathtaking. “Love you, too, Ben.”

Mallory felt far too exposed sitting there with her new boob hanging out. It had been eight weeks since her surgery. She’d experienced no problems—no infections or trouble with the implant—and had been able to go right back to work in January.

The biggest problem was that since the surgery, she and Ben had only made love in the dark. She wanted him to wait and see her new breast when all the swelling had subsided and it looked much closer to the finished product. Once her nipple finally had some tint, she’d let him see her in the light and hope he liked the outcome.

His patience through everything had been extraordinary. The fact he was a fantastic lover didn’t hurt, either. He made her feel normal again, like an ordinary woman instead of like a woman who’d lost an important part of herself. And he loved her, a miracle which she returned with her whole
heart
.

Now she wanted to make love to him with her whole
body
.

At least the only people in the tattoo parlor were the Ladies and the two artists. She still kept a furtive eye on the door, worried about someone strolling in to choose some body art.

“We’re appointment only.” Her artist glanced up at her and smiled. “Relax. I locked the front door, and no one can see through the window tint.”

“Thanks.” She gave him a wan smile.

The buzz of the tool he held like a pen started again, drawing her attention back to her chest. The feeling against her skin was more of a tickle than a prick, which wasn’t surprising. While she could feel the needle forcing the ink into her skin, the sensitivity level had dropped markedly.

Her real breast had quickly responded to any touch or a change in temperature. The new nipple was constructed of skin, and because the surgery severed some nerves, it wasn’t nearly as sensitive. Nor would it contract with cold like a real one. Still… it looked better than if she’d opted for nothing but ink as some reconstruction patients did.

“Not hurtin’ you?” The artist glanced up again. This time he locked eyes with Mallory.

Her face had been hot with a blush from the moment she entered the parlor, but every time he made eye contact, her cheeks flushed warmer. “No. It’s fine.”

He gave her a lopsided smile and got right back to work. She much preferred seeing the top of his navy-blue bandanna than trying to make conversation. Her nudity made her uncomfortable. How could people get tattoos in other, much more private places? Did they really sit on the tables with their asses and genitals hanging out?

On the other hand, the new breast looked great. While it wasn’t quite a duplicate of the one she’d lost to cancer, it would do nicely. Mallory was anxious to show it off to Ben.

The tattoo parlor had been recommended by a couple of breast cancer survivors she’d met in the course of her treatment. Both had praised the professionalism and how the owner treated them with respect and patience when he’d restored color to their replacement nipples. Even then, she wished the owner or another artist had been female. No such luck. When she, Juliana, Bethany, and Danielle strolled through the door, they were greeted by two men who had ink from necks to wrists. But once she sat down with the owner, his kindness was evident, and she hadn’t even minded showing him her right breast so they could decide on the best color combinations to get a close match.

“You hanging in there, Mal?” Danielle asked.

Mallory didn’t even try to turn her head to reply. The Ladies were all behind her, working on some conspiracy. When they’d arrived, Jules announced that Mallory wasn’t the only one with an appointment. The owner introduced himself, led Mallory to one of the three workstations, and had her poring through color charts before she could find out what her friends were up to. Her back was to the other stations, so whatever the Ladies were doing would remain a mystery until they were ready to show her or her nipple’s tint was complete and she could get up and go to them.

“Mal?” This time the inquiry came from Bethany. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. Just ready to be done.”

“Almost there, sweetheart,” the owner said, not even glancing up this time.

“No rush. Jules? What are you doing?”

“I told you,” she called back, “it’s a—Ow!”

“You need to sit still, ma’am,” a deep masculine voice scolded.

Mallory stopped thinking about her nipple and let her curiosity take charge. “What are you all doing over there?”

Danielle stepped up to her side. “You can’t stand being out of the loop, can you?”

“Why is your chest so red?”

“What?”

“The left side of your chest is bright red.”

Her cheeks quickly matched her chest.

“Be patient!” Jules yelled before she let loose a moan like she was in pain.

“Are you getting something pierced?” Mallory asked. Then she remembered something Jules had mentioned, something Mallory had assumed was a joke. “Oh my God. Jules, you’re not getting your nipple pierced, are you?”

Judging from the chorus of laughter, everyone in the tattoo parlor enjoyed the question.

“Done.” Blue-bandanna man sat back, set down the tattoo gun, and smiled. “I think I nailed the color.”

Mallory dropped her chin, trying to get a good look at his work.

“Here.” He grabbed a hand mirror and gave it to her.

Taking a breath to brace herself, she positioned the mirror in front of the breast she’d thought was gone forever. But there it was. Right back where it belonged. Same size. Same shape. Same raspberry nipple.

Jerking the other side of her shirt open, she couldn’t stop staring at her breasts. With the exception of the thin red line of a scar, a person would have to stare closely to know that the left boob wasn’t real. The two of them made a nearly perfect pair of knockers.

Tears pooled in her eyes, and although she tried to blink them away, a few spilled over her lashes.

The battle had finally ended, and she’d emerged scarred but victorious.

She’d really won.

“Oh, Mallory.” Danielle leaned down to wrap an arm around her shoulder. “I know it’s not perfect, but—”

“It
is
perfect. It’s absolutely
perfect
.”

The artist grinned, took the hand mirror, and set it aside. “Now, here’s what you need to do…”

Mallory tried to listen to his instructions on caring for the new tattoo, but she was too wrapped up in figuring out what her friends were up to. Thankfully, he bandaged the left nipple and then gave her a sheet with instructions before she buttoned up her shirt. On suggestions from the other cancer survivors, she’d left the bra at home.

The artist held out his hand and bowed at the waist. “Let me help you down, m’lady.” He even affected a good British accent.

She had to smile at his teasing. “How kind, good sir.” She placed her hand in his and let him help her down from the table.

“It’s great to know I made you so happy.”

“You did,” she assured him. “Thank you so much. You did a really great job.”

“Sure I can’t talk you into a nice butterfly or a pink ribbon, too?” he asked with a wink. “Either would look mighty pretty on your pale skin.”

“No, I think I’ll skip another one. But thanks.”

“You come on back if you change your mind.” He busied himself with straightening up his supplies.

Mallory stared at Bethany openmouthed when she came over and hopped up on the empty station. “What are you doing?”

“It’s my turn.” Beth flashed a smile at the artist when he nodded at her. Then she unbuttoned her shirt. After a timid glance to the artist, she pulled her shirt open to bare her left breast.

“What on earth are you doing?” Mallory shifted her gaze to Danielle. “All of you… what are you doing?”

“C’mere,” Jules called over her shoulder.

Coming around the side of the second station, Mallory saw that Jules had her left boob bared as well. The artist was working on some art, but he was bent so close, she couldn’t see what he was drawing.

Danielle went to the opposite side of the table. Then she opened the first few buttons on her shirt. Funny, but Mallory hadn’t noticed they’d all worn button-front shirts as well.

“We did these for you,” Dani said as she flipped open her shirt. “All of us.”

Halfway down her breast was a small pink ribbon with “Mallory” written in beautiful scroll right below it. A quick look to Jules revealed the same tattoo almost completed. The buzz coming from the station Mallory had sat at was no doubt Beth getting her pink ribbon.

There were no words to express the love in her heart for these women. They were so much more than friends. They were sisters as close as if they’d all shared the same womb.

“Thank you.” Mallory’s words were more mouthed than whispered.

“Don’t you dare cry,” Juliana scolded. “As soon as Beth and I are done, we’re all going out for margaritas. Ben’s the designated driver. We’re supposed to text him when we’re good and drunk.”

* * *

“Good night,” Ben said as Juliana let herself into her condo.

“Thanks for drivin’.” She tossed her purse on the table and shut the door in his face.

Forgiving her was easy since she was too drunk to know she’d been rude. The other women were all home, probably already safe in their beds. The last one, his own Lady, waited in the Escape.

Mallory hadn’t acted too awfully drunk, especially compared to her friends. Her speech wasn’t slurred, and she hadn’t experienced any trouble getting into the car. Bethany and Danielle were probably too wasted to drive, but they negotiated the walk to Bethany’s apartment with minimal difficulty. They also swore they’d stay put and not try to go out again. Juliana, on the other hand, was good and soused.

“She’s pretty drunk. Should we stay and help her?” Ben asked as he slid behind the steering wheel.

“Nah. She’s fine. Did she lock the front door?”

“Yeah. I heard the dead bolt go into place.”

“Then she’ll go right to bed. Probably in her clothes. She’ll probably sleep ’til noon at least.”

He pulled into traffic. “How did the tattoo go?”

It wasn’t like he expected her to pop open her shirt and show him, but he was curious as to how the finished product turned out. Since Mallory was in such a good mood when he’d walked into the bar, he couldn’t help but think she was pleased. Maybe she’d get up enough nerve to let him see when they got home.

Her hand moved to his thigh, and she rubbed closer and closer to his groin. “Thought I’d show you and let you decide.”

His body responded so quickly, it was a wonder he wasn’t dizzy from the blood leaving his brain. “You’ve been drinking, Mal. I don’t want to take advantage.”

“I had three margaritas and more than enough chips and pretzels to make up for the alcohol. Besides, maybe
I’ll
be taking advantage of
you
.”

The husky sound of her voice sent more heat rushing to his cock. “I’d like to see you try.”

Her palm pressed against his erection. “Oh, you will, Ben. You
will
.”

Breaking most of the speed limits, Ben headed back to her house. He’d be spending the night, something he didn’t get to do often—not nearly as often as he would’ve liked. He wasn’t about to leave Amber alone all night, and Mallory always claimed she understood. She never tried to make him feel guilty when he had to head home. Instead, she always kissed him good-bye and told him what a great father he was.

Her praise meant the world to him, but he ached to be able to spend every night with her. Problem was the house belonged to her. There was plenty of room for both him and Amber, but no way in hell he’d be the one to make the suggestion that the Carpenters move right in. Not only was it tacky, it was downright ridiculous. Mallory was an independent woman who clearly enjoyed her life. He was a big part of it now, but she’d never even hinted that she would welcome such a drastic change in living arrangements.

The idea of popping the question had flitted through his mind on too many occasions to count, but he was still too scarred from his first marriage to want to set out into those choppy waters again. Mallory was nothing like Theresa. Yet the fear of making that kind of permanent commitment remained.

“What’re you thinking?” Mallory asked. The way she rubbed had him plenty worked up.

“Nothing much. Just curious.” Ben tugged her hand away from his lap and held it in his to try to maintain some self-control. “I’ve waited a long time to see the results of the surgery.”

“I’m sorry, honey. You told me you didn’t mind making love in the dark.”

He squeezed her hand. “Stop apologizing. I told you it was fine. Shit, like I said before, it really fired up the psychological part of sex for me. Besides, I see pretty well in the dark.” Tossing her a crooked smile, he eased onto her driveway.

“We’re home.” Mallory tugged her hand away and picked up her purse. She was out of the SUV before he’d even killed the engine. “Give me a couple of minutes, then come up to our room.”

Our room.

Wouldn’t that be great?

Ben followed her inside. She shed her coat, thrust it at him, and hurried away.

“I’ll be up in three minutes,” he called after her.

“Funny. I thought you were already
up
,” she shot back. A few moments later, the master bedroom door closed.

After kicking off his shoes, he hung their coats on the brass coat tree. Then he took a long look around, pleased at what he saw. The place really was coming together nicely.

The great room and kitchen were done. Mallory had picked beautiful dark granite for the kitchen countertops, and the walnut floor she’d chosen for the foyer extended into the rest of the downstairs. She added several rugs, some new lamps, and once the mantel had been stained and the cabinets painted, the downstairs was complete. Rascal curled up and sleeping on the sofa was the perfect finishing touch.

In fact… the whole house was nearly done. All that remained inside was the spare bathroom upstairs and a good coat of paint on the exterior come spring.

Ben no longer worried about what would happen when her house was done. He loved Mallory. She loved him. They worked well as a couple, and they would be together for a good, long while.