The Street Where She Lives (21 page)

“Fine. But I still don't like it—” She broke off when Emily leaped forward and bear-hugged the life right out of her.

“You're the best, Mom!”

Rachel shook her head and laughed. “Could you do me a favor and try to remember that?”

With a grin, Emily danced out of the room. A moment later they heard the front door slam as she left to catch her bus.

“I wish you hadn't agreed to that,” Rachel said, sitting back down at the table.

“Why? After this Asada thing, meeting an online friend seems pretty tame, especially with us right there.”

“At a different table.”

“I'm not going to let anything happen to her, Rach.”

“You're not going to always be there.”

He stared at her bowed head as she calmly paid bills, and marveled that she never broke stride in writing her checks while she managed to dig in hard at his heart. “I thought we were okay.”

“We are.”

“So what's the matter?”

“Do you really need me to spell it out?”

“I'm a guy,” he said so despondently she actually let out a laugh. “I need everything spelled out.”

“Well, we could start with Asada.”

Just the name on her lips swamped him with guilt. “Who's dead as a doornail.”

“Not in my dreams, he's not.”

Another nail in his heart. “Rach—”

“No. I'm sorry.” Tipping her head back, she stared at the ceiling. “It's Emily, too. I just realized how much she's growing up. I mean look at her, she no longer even needs me, and I've…I've just come to understand my show of strength with her is really just a farce.”

“You're an incredible mom.”

“Thanks. It's just…”

“Just what, Rach?”

“You're out of here tomorrow.” She smiled sadly. “And I just might admit to missing you this time.”

He reached for her hand, took the pen out of it and linked their fingers. “I'm going to miss you, too. So
damn
much. Do you remember the other night? In your bed? Where we came together like we'd never been apart?”

“I remember.”

“You were into my touch, and God knows, I was into yours.” He pulled her up against him. “Neither of us can have what we really want,” he whispered, skimming his lips over her ear. “But wouldn't it be nice if we could have one more night?”

“Ben—”

He opened his mouth and sucked the edge of her ear-lobe into his mouth. Her fingers tightened on his, her breath left her lungs in a whoosh. As he took his mouth on a tour down her throat, her eyes drifted closed. “Ben, what are you doing?”

“Getting you there,” he said. “To that one spot we can both share, where we can both be happy.”

“Mindless sex?”

“If that's all we can have, what's wrong with that?”

“Spoken like a true red-blooded male,” she said on a breathless laugh, but he had her, he could feel her softening beneath his hands, which were roaming her body now, could hear it in her breathing against his shoulder. She tilted her face a little, and when he gently touched his mouth to hers, she opened for him, nipping at his lower lip, then soothing it with a lazy swipe of her tongue.

As an act of acquiescence, it was an irresistible offer, an artless seduction.

“Mel's here. She went shopping though.”

“Shopping is good.”

“This won't change anything.” She sucked on a patch of skin at his throat, making his knees weak. “Nothing at all.”

“No,” he agreed, catching his breath when her hands ran down his chest. “Rach…” His eyes crossed when she boldly caressed his thighs…between them. He struggled to remember they were right in the kitchen. “Upstairs—”

Her fingers did the talking, outlining the erection he sported, which was threatening the seams on his jeans. His body arched slowly into her exploring hand. Stifling a groan, he caught her fingers, then lifted her in his arms.

With a laughing gasp, she held on. “Bedroom?”

“Bedroom.”

“And I thought you were so adventurous.”

“I'll give you adventurous in your bed.”

When they got there, he tumbled her to the mattress and followed her down, carefully pinning her arms over her head, holding her captive while he slowly and surely stripped her bare. Insinuating himself between her thighs, he looked into her beautiful eyes. Her beautiful,
wet
eyes. His heart cracked and broke. “Ah, no. Rach—”

“Love me, Ben. Just shut up and love me.”

Hadn't he always?

“This has to last us,” she whispered. “After this…I can't do it again, I can't—” Her breath hitched. “I can't keep watching you go—”

“Shh.” He bent his head for a kiss, filling his hand with her breast, indulging himself in her softness, the feel of her, the sounds that came from her throat, the taste of her skin… She was hot, ready and more than
willing when he slid down farther, running his mouth over every inch.

The way she arched and squirmed and cried out nearly undid him, so he held her writhing, damp body still. If she so much as touched him, she'd take him right over the edge. He might have let her, too, if he hadn't wanted more, so much more.

“Ben…please, now.”

“Now,” he agreed, and put his lips on her,
there.

She bucked right into his mouth. Perfect. Holding on, he took her slowly, using his tongue, his teeth, teasing her with soft, little licks, and when she was mewling at him, he pushed her harder, switching to long, languid strokes that choked another cry out of her.

Her head thrashed on the pillow, her fingers fisted in his hair, pulling, holding him…as if he intended to go anywhere. “Come for me,” he whispered. “Come in my mouth.” He slipped a finger into her soft folds, coaxing the sweet spot on her body into a hard little bud.

“Don't stop,” she begged him, shamelessly arching into his hand. “Please…don't stop.”

“Not on my life,” he promised, and watched her fall apart for him.

When she'd stopped shuddering, he surged to his knees and managed, barely, to get on a condom.

Then, while she was still sighing with pleasure, he sank inside her. At the hot, wet feel of her surrounding him, hunger and desire mingled, skittering down his spine, pooling between his legs. Curling his toes. Moving his mouth to hers, holding her to him, he thrust all the way home, and she went wild beneath him.

Watching her, hearing her, with the taste of her still on his lips, he thrust again, catching her every whimper, her every breath, with his mouth. Her shudders rippled
down her body to his. Another thrust and his body started to tighten and contract, too, pulsing with the need for release. Again. Then again, losing himself in her soft, wet heat, following her over, shattering into nirvana as he poured himself into her.

Dazed, spent, he stared down into her face, knowing the truth.

There was no doubt now.

He'd gone and fallen all the way in love with her.

Again.

R
ACHEL LAY SIDEWAYS
on the bed, her head hanging off, and a heavy weight on her chest that turned out to be Ben.

With a groan, Ben lifted his head. “Did you ID whatever hit us?”

“Don't worry, it's on its way to Africa.” It came out of her mouth before she could think, and of course, she regretted it immediately. “Ben…”

“No. It's okay.” He rolled to his side, putting a hand flat on her belly to hold her to the bed. His fingers danced over her skin, and even now, when she should be sated and limp as a noodle, he drew shivers with his touch. “I can't change, Rachel.”

“Because you're too stubborn? Or too old?”

While he pondered that, she pushed his hand away and sat up. Forcing her boneless legs to function, she got off the bed in search of her clothes.

Which, apparently, they'd lost far before the bedroom, as there wasn't a single item to be found.

“Here.” He came up behind her with her robe, then turned her to face him, his eyes filled with so much pain she could hardly look at him.
Try my pain on for size,
she wanted to cry, but she fisted her hands rather than beat them over his chest. He was a grown man, and she wouldn't beg. She wouldn't even ask. “I can take Em
to L.A. tomorrow. You can catch an earlier flight out. Tonight, if you'd like.”

“I have one last night,” he said in a low voice. “Don't take it from me.”

You could have an infinite number of nights if you'd but ask.
Pride made her push instead. “I wouldn't take a thing from you, Ben Asher.”

“But you'd see me go early?”

She stared up at him, the lie backing up in her throat, but it was far too late to save her heart. She'd long ago lost it—to the only man she'd ever given it to. The very man standing in front of her, stricken, lost. Alone.

Of his own making,
she reminded herself. “Yes, I'd see you go early.”

“No,” he said in such a low voice she almost missed it. “But I'll stay out of your way.”

“Fine.”

“Goodbye, Rachel.”

She didn't answer, and Ben had no idea if that was because she didn't know how or she didn't care.

Once, he'd wondered if anything could hurt as much as losing her all those years ago, and now, as he walked out of her room, he had his answer.

This hurt as much. This hurt worse. His insides shattered along with his heart and soul, and as he entered his bedroom and grabbed his duffel bag out from under the bed to pack it, everything within him rebelled.

This trip had been
temporary,
he reminded himself. He'd wanted temporary, he lived for temporary.

But that had been before. Before he'd gotten to know Emily as a father should. Before he'd lived the actual little details of everyday life and found them not nearly as tedious as he'd imagined them.

Before, the urge to move around had consumed him,
but somehow that urge had vanished, and in its stead came a different yearning all together. A yearning for a place to call his own. A home.

Too bad you've blown it, Ace.
He started tossing his things into his duffel bag, knowing that by tomorrow night he'd be fifteen thousand miles away from the bed Rachel had kicked him out of.

Out of her bed and out of her heart. He deserved it, he supposed, both for being who he was and for bringing her the danger in the first place. Resigned to his fate, he zipped his bag closed.

 

R
ACHEL STAYED
in her robe trying to console herself with an extralarge bag of assorted baby chocolate bars. Halfway through her own private pity party, she called Melanie on her cell. “Aren't you done shopping yet?”

“My credit card is still working. Why?”

“I've eaten a pound of chocolate and it's not helping.”

“What's the matter?”

She opened her mouth to say…
Gracie.
Emily.
Everything.
“Ben,” she said, and burst into tears.

“Oh, honey, I'll be there in five minutes.”

 

Y
OUR FAULT,
Melanie told herself as she drove around Rachel's block searching for a parking spot.
You messed with her head, and now you're responsible for hurting the only person who ever truly cared about you.

And all this time she'd thought she hated Garrett for making her feel so rotten to the core, when it was herself she hated. All her life she'd skated through without caring about anyone or anything too much. Somehow that had slowly started to change.

It was hard work, caring. And so far, she didn't see any rewards for it.

Finally, she found a parking spot and ran into the house. It was quiet. “Rachel?” Moving through the rooms, she started to panic until she caught sight of her sister in the backyard. Stepping through the glass doors of the living room, she waved.

Her sister, sitting on the grass with the puppy in her lap, stuffed what appeared to be a chip loaded with cheese into her mouth and didn't wave back. “You didn't have to stop shopping just because I'm drowning in stupidity,” she said.

Mel plopped down next to her and tried not to picture what the grass would do to her silk dress. “You've never been stupid. You've been crying?”

“Sugar overload. I've moved on to straight fat calories.” She gestured to an almost empty plate of nachos sitting next to her.

“All because of a man?”

“Don't be ridiculous. A man has nothing to do with this.”

“Liar.”

Rachel's head jerked up at that, but after a beat, her shoulders sagged in defeat. “He's going tomorrow. Right after dinner in Los Angles with Emily and her new friend. Just hopping on a plane and leaving.
Again.
”

“Did you tell him to go?
Again?
”

Something close to guilt flashed across Rachel's face and Melanie shook her head. “You did.”

“What does it matter?”

“Because he loves you. Jeez, you're as big an idiot as I am.
He loves you,
” she repeated to her now pale sister, thinking Garrett should see her now, the jerk. She was willingly being…
good.
“He's always loved you,
but because of how he grew up, you know damn well he'd never stay where he thinks he's not wanted.”

“What?” Suddenly Rachel looked like a good wind could knock her over. “What did you just say?”

“Oh, God, this do-good thing is going to kill me,” she muttered to the sky.

“Ben doesn't love me.”

“Have you seen the man look at you?
Please.
He's got stars in his eyes, okay? He came across the entire world for you, dropping everything, and once here, even with his job waiting and his entire soul yearning to be wild and free, he stayed. God, Rachel, he stayed. For you. You know what that cost a man like him? Do you have any idea?”

Rachel just stared at her. “How did you know about how he grew up?”

“Everyone knew.”

“I didn't,” she whispered. “I didn't know details until recently, when he finally told me.”

“Yeah, well, don't take this wrong, sis, but you're not real big on opening up or getting other people to do the same.”

“I should have tried harder.”

“Why? You were either in bed with him or in denial over how you felt. Black and white, that's always been you, Rach.” She watched agony cross her sister's face and sighed. “Look, help me do the right thing here. I encouraged you off him before and I was wrong. Flat, dead wrong. And…” Ah, damn it all to hell. “Rach…there's more. All those years when I took Emily to him? I never once saw him with another woman.”

“But you said—”

“I know, I said he'd become a slut. I lied. And—”
She bit her lip, all that guilt she never let herself feel swamping her now. “And he always asked about you. Always.”

“He…” Rachel looked stunned. And hurt. Slowly she shook her head. “I don't get it. Why would you lie to me?”

Truth,
Melanie. “I told you, I wanted to be happy first. And…um…while I'm being honest, I should also tell you I sort of had one wild night with your neighbor.” She lifted a hand when Rachel went even more pale. “I promise you, it was a horrible lapse in judgment.”

“Garrett?”

“Remember last New Year's Eve? You went to bed early, and I…didn't. I went looking for trouble in a bar on Sixth, and he was there… God, I don't know how it happened exactly. But we never again, not once.”

“I…see.”

Her sister had put that quiet voice on, and her eyes had cleared of all emotion. Damn, she was good at it, too.

“So you wanted me with Adam because that would make me only a little happy, and you could be happier than me and feel better about yourself.” She nodded. “In some twisted way I actually understand that. And not telling me about Garrett, well…that's your business, I suppose. But Mel, what I don't understand is lying about Ben.”

“Yeah, join the club.” She scrubbed her hands over her face. “Look, Rach, I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

“But you did. When you told me those things about Ben, I believed you, and it changed how I thought about
him for years.
Years,
Mel. What you did was incredibly selfish.”

“Yes.” Okay, this was not going as smooth as she'd hoped. “But in all fairness, that's really nothing new, right?” She tried a smile.

Rachel didn't return it.

“I'm trying to make it right,” Mel whispered. “I'm trying to fix things.”

“You can't always do that.”

“Rach—”

“Okay, stop.” She put her fingers to her temples. “You know what? I just need to think. I need to be alone.”

Her chest feeling restricted, Mel nodded. “All right, I'll just go inside—”

“No. I think you should go home.” Then she turned away.

Rachel couldn't help it, she was reeling. Mel had tried to sabotage her happiness. That was really nothing new or shocking. But that her sister of all people had come up with an astute, accurate and horrifying reason for Ben walking away from her.
Twice.

And Rachel had missed it. How she had was beyond her.

Of course
Ben was extremely sensitive to not staying where he wasn't wanted—he'd grown up that way.

Of course
he'd walk away without looking back if someone said to go. No one had ever cared if he'd stayed or gone, not ever.

She'd been trying so desperately to protect herself from hurt, and in doing so she'd hurt the one person who truly, unconditionally loved her. That ugly truth would haunt her forever.

And yet she had no idea, no idea at all, how to fix it.

 

M
ELANIE RACED
through Rachel's house like the devil himself was on her heels, emotions flogging her with every step—remorse, anger, humiliation, regret… Without Rachel's forgiveness, her entire world had splintered.

Go home.

Well, damn it, she didn't have a home, she had a leased condo she could no longer afford, with someone else's furniture in it, and someone else's tastes on the walls. Unlike Rachel, who'd taken from their childhood a need to settle and had followed through with that need, Melanie had done nothing for herself. She hadn't really cared to.

By the time she slammed out the front door, her throat was closed, her heart shriveled, and she could hardly see for the tears pooling in her eyes, the tears she refused to let fall.

She took a step toward her car, or at least that's the message her brain signaled to her body, but suddenly she found herself running, running like hell across the neighboring lawn and up to the front door there, knocking with three bold knocks.

After a moment, Garrett answered. He wore trousers and an open shirt exposing a wedge of hard chest spattered with dark hair, a chest she knew to be warm and perfectly capable of holding her weight while she burrowed in.

“Melanie,” he said with surprise.

She took one look into his face, with his dark, passionate eyes and wide, firm mouth that always,
always,
spoke the truth, no matter what, and did the most horrifying thing.

She burst into tears and covered her face.

A steady hand settled on her elbow, just a simple, comforting touch. It made her fall apart even more, and
her breath hitched in her chest as she continued to sob, utterly unable to stop.

“Are you coming in?” His other hand came up to steady her as well. “Yes or no, sweetheart. You come in and we deal with this, all of it, or you run off again. You make the call.”

“I can't….”

“Yes or no,” he repeated quietly.

“Yes!”

He drew her in. She heard the door shut, but resisted when he tried to pull her close because though her feet had brought her here, she still didn't feel like she deserved his sympathy.

“Come here,” he said, and ran his hands up and down her spine, not grabbing her butt, not trying to cop a feel, just…holding her.

She couldn't remember a time when a man had offered her such simple comfort, wanting nothing in return. Or if she'd ever wanted one to. But she wanted that now, so much. Gripping his shirt in her fists, she buried her face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent, wetting his skin, feeling soothed by the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear. She had no idea how long they stood there, with buckets of her tears falling at their feet, the sounds of her crying muffled by his shoulder and the occasional wordless murmur he made as he held her.

Eventually she ran out of steam, which left her drained and weary. His hand swept back up her spine, gently stroking the back of her neck, before sinking his fingers into her hair to tug her face up. “Better?”