Chapter Eight

 

Ben Serano was holding her hand. When he had reached for her and intertwined their fingers, she had been shocked but had zero intention of pulling away.

Even more shocking, he had spent the entire night with her the previous evening. When they had fallen asleep together, she had half expected him to have disappeared when she woke in the morning.

But he hadn’t. He had woken up at some ungodly hour to go home and get ready for work, but he had woken her.

On purpose to say goodbye.

Though she had been half asleep, the parting kiss he gave her played round and round in her mind. It had been so tender and full of promises she could only guess at. And had. All day. Made it near impossible to get any productive writing done.

Then he surprised her yet again when he called her around lunchtime time to ask her out to dinner that night. She may or may not have entered into an alternate reality, but as she got ready to see him that night, she couldn’t have cared less.

The sane, rational part of her brain screamed at her that this was very shaky ground to tread. She still didn’t really know him, still figured that this thing between them, whatever it was, wouldn’t evolve into any sort of permanent situation. Still had to go home in a few weeks to resume her boring life without him.

But the minute he showed up to pick her up on a motorcycle, handed her a helmet and pulled her on behind him, she told that part of her brain to go to hell. Then further solidified that declaration when he took her hand and led her into the restaurant.

Emma knew she was being foolish, letting her heart carry her away, but she couldn’t seem to help it, or force herself to walk away.

People packed into the grill/sports bar as they entered and they had to wait for a table. As she peered into the restaurant from the lobby she noted the football game filling the screens of the many TVs mounted on the walls. A loud cheer erupted as one of the teams scored a touchdown and her body jerked in reaction. Ben squeezed her hand gently. “I know this isn’t the quietest of places but I promise that the food here is awesome.”

He didn’t say much else as they waited, just assessed the people around them, which didn’t surprise her. What did surprise her was the fact that he idly played with her fingers while doing so. This small, unconscious action, warmed her heart and gave her belly flutters.

As soon as she felt it, she tried desperately to tamp down the feeling. This was getting ridiculous and it would only get her into trouble in the long run. Fortunately, he seemed oblivious to her tumultuous emotions and she wanted to keep it that way.

They didn’t wait too long before the hostess called their name and he kept up that amazing hand holding while she led them to their seats.

This kind of restaurant could give even the most focused of people a temporary case of ADD and she wondered if he had brought her to this place for that reason. The more distracted she was, the less he would have to carry on a conversation. Though, that reasoning seemed counterproductive to going on a date in the first place, especially since he had no obligations to her whatsoever.

So maybe this was an attempt in the relationship direction to see how it would go? If that were the case, then she was damn well going to come up with a topic of conversation and keep him engaged in it, distracting TVs or no.

“That’s a pretty sweet bike you have outside.” She knew next to nothing about motorcycles but she could recognize that his was in pristine condition. And the way his gaze pulled away from the people around them to focus squarely on her once the words were out, it seemed that his bike was a source of pride.

“Know much about choppers, do you?” The way the corner of his mouth twitched, she knew he’d caught her. But she wanted to talk about it anyway. She wanted to know about all his interests, what made him Ben.

“Ha, no not really. But you obviously do. Looks like you take great care of your bike.”

That earned her a smile. Damn. She would never get sick of seeing that smile. “Thanks. My uncle’s a mechanic and owns a shop in town. My bike was an old 1976 Harley that was pretty much left for scrap metal.” Here his smile turned rueful. “When I decided to become a legitimate, contributing member of society, I spent a lot of time there. Rebuilt her from the ground up.”

A smile played at her lips as her eyebrows rose. “I’m impressed. You seem like a jack of all trades.”

Heat filled his eyes and the smile turned into a wicked smirk as he leaned forward. Bracing his elbows on the table, he took her hand in his once more and twined their fingers. “I like working with my hands.”

The hot look he gave her burned the whole way through her body and she couldn’t help but squeeze her thighs together as she scooted closer to him.

“And I know how good you are with those hands, too,” she said throwing him a flirtatious glance from under her eyelashes. “As evidenced by your bike sitting outside.”

His eyes narrowed on her but the smile lingered and as she sat back in her seat to take a sip of water she couldn’t help but think that she could get used to seeing him like this.

Their dinner came and went with amicable conversation after that. He told her more about his bike and working with his uncle. She told him about her job as a bank teller back in the city. It was the “get-to-know-you” conversation that they should have had about a week ago. Better late than never, though.

The pleasant tone of the evening took a turn as they waited for the waitress to come back with their change. The game had ended about a half hour ago but the bar patrons had stayed and the drinks kept pouring.

One of said patrons, after having consumed copious amounts of liquid courage, approached their table just after the waitress left. The man looked to be in his mid-forties, light brown hair turning gray at the edges, watered down blue eyes half hooded from inebriation. “Well, look what we have here. Ben Serano. Finally crawled out from under your rock to annoy the civilized world.”

The man was tall, but as Ben stood beside him to flip his jacket off the back of his chair and shrug it on, Emma realized that Ben was taller. Much taller. “Paul, always a pleasure.”

Paul got up in Ben’s face and hissed, “Should have stayed under that fucking rock where you belong, Serano.”

If Paul’s words fazed Ben at all, Emma couldn’t see it. Instead of giving Paul the rise he was obviously aiming for, Ben only nodded and turned to take her hand once more. “Thanks for the advice. I’ll keep it in mind. Have a good night, Paul,” he tossed over his shoulder as he began to pull her toward the door.

“Hey, honey,” Paul called out after them. “This guy really is a worthless piece of shit. You sure you don’t wanna come home with me and find out what a real man is like?”

Of all the things to get under Ben’s skin, she didn’t think that last jab would be it. Before she had a chance to react, Ben spun around and grabbed the guy by his neck to slam him up against the wall.

“You don’t fucking talk to her like that. Got it?” he growled in Paul’s face.

Ben’s ferocity was just shy of scaring her and it drew the attention of some of the other patrons in the bar. But Paul let out a wheezing laugh. “Yeah, ‘cause she’s such a lady. She’s with you so I’d say that makes her an eager slut with self-esteem issues.”

This time Emma saw when Ben moved, cocked his fist back and made to swing. She didn’t know where her common sense had flown off to, but she knew that she didn’t want him to get into a fist fight, in a public restaurant, because of her. His reputation was bad enough; he didn’t need this to compound the issue.

Bravely – or idiotically – she grabbed hold of Ben’s swinging arm before he could follow through and clock the guy. “Ben, stop,” she said softly when he turned to look at her. “It’s not worth it. He’s the one with the problem. Not you. Not us.”

The anger in his eyes didn’t fade but, muscle ticking in his clenched jaw, he let Paul go. “You can think and say what you want about me; I really don’t give a shit,” he said pinning Paul with a stare that would have any sane, or sober, man paying close attention. “But you leave her the fuck alone and we won’t have a problem.”

Then he had no more attention to spare Paul as he took her hand and once again began to tug her toward the door. She held him off for a second as she turned to glare at Paul. “And just so you know? You’re a pale shadow of the man that Ben truly is. So why don’t you deal with that fact the best way you know how. Go have another drink.”

When they got back to Ben’s bike and climbed on, Emma could feel the tension running through his body, making him ridged in her arms. The roar of the engine as he started the bike blocked out anything she might have said, not that she knew what to say anyway. But she had to do something to bring him back down. Wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, she gently kissed the back of his neck.

He went completely still, so she did it again. Slowly, his body relaxed into hers and he brought one of his hands down to squeeze her clasped hands around his middle. Scooting closer to him, she wrapped herself tighter around his body and he started the bike out of the parking lot and down the road.

Instead of taking her back through town toward her motel, he seemed to be driving them farther to the edge of town. That could only be a good thing. She didn’t want him to drop her off yet and she didn’t think he should be alone right now.

Soon he turned onto a narrow dirt road surrounded by trees. A narrow creek ran parallel to some old, abandoned train tracks a few miles back into the woods. A small stone bridge covered a section of the creek and once he cut the bike’s engine, she noticed that, aside from the running water, the place was absolutely still. Beautiful in a calm, rustic sort of way.

“Where are we?” she asked when he helped her climb off the bike. The red and orange leaves of the trees around them blanketed the ground and crunched under her heels as he led her over to the bridge. The air here smelled new and clean and she couldn’t seem to get enough of it into her lungs.

“This is my spot,” he said simply, hoisting himself up to sit on the low stone wall of the bridge.

“Your spot?” She lifted herself up to sit beside him.

“Yeah, I used to come here a lot when I was younger, when I needed to think, or when the world got to be too much.” Narrowing his eyes, he started off into the water. “Actually, I come here a lot now, too.”

Taking in their surroundings, she said, “Well I can see why. It’s peaceful here.”

It truly was the perfect place to come and clear your head and shut the rest of the world out. Though, when she thought about how much he must have come here, how solitary he always seemed to be, even when surrounded by people, it tugged at her heart. No one should feel that alone all the time.

“And what do you think about when you come here?” she asked sliding him a sideways glance.

“You mean now, or back in the day?”

She shrugged. “Both.”

Turning his head to look at her, he cocked an eyebrow but told her anyway. “Mostly, when I was a kid, I used to come here when being around my brothers got to be too much. I’d daydream about what it would have been like if she hadn’t taken off.”

He turned to stare into the creek then, but Emma could tell that he didn’t see the clear water as it flowed down the path.

“Did you ever see her again?” she asked softly. “You know, after?”

“Once,” he said distantly. “But she didn’t see me.”

He paused for a few moments as though to gather his thoughts and Emma patiently waited until he was ready to continue. Reaching over, he took her hand in his and began to absently play with her fingers, tracing the lines of her palm. His touches came easier now, not full of purpose or meant to evoke any particular sensation. He only touched her for the comfort and pleasure of it now. Like they had been lovers for years and he held her hand every day. The thought made her heart ache, yearning for all the possibilities between them.

Eventually, he finished his story. “It wasn’t really all that hard to track her down. She hadn’t exactly hidden where she had gone from anyone. When she lived with us, all she ever talked about was one day going off to New Orleans.” He shrugged. “Figured that’d be the best place to start.”

“You found here there, then?” Emma began stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. He squeezed her fingers.

“Yeah, that’s where she went. We found her sitting on some guy’s lap in an outside café in the French Quarter. They were feeding each other strawberries or some shit, and the woman was actually giggling. I’d never heard her giggle like that at home.” He snorted. “Only sound I ever heard her make was all her yelling. Either at dad or at one of us.”

“You said we. You didn’t go alone?”

Shaking his head, he said, “No. I wanted to. Didn’t even tell anyone where I was going but somehow Adam knew. Jackass wouldn’t let me go alone so he came with me.” Flashing his gaze back to the water, he clenched his jaw. “I really wish he had stayed home. He didn’t need to see that shit.”

She could only imagine how awful that must have been. To know that one of your parents didn’t want anything to do with you was bad enough. But then to find out that they had moved on to become happier without you? She couldn’t fathom it. She had always known she had won the genetic lottery in the family department. Never once had she ever doubted that they loved her. Ben’s story only confirmed that knowledge.

“You didn’t approach or confront her?” Emma didn’t know what she would have done in that situation, but she knew her own fiery temper enough to know she probably would have said something to her.

He gave a humorless laugh. “You know, when I first saw her I almost didn’t think it was actually her. But when I realized it was? I was so pissed off, Emma, you don’t even know. I was immature enough that I almost did go up to her and make a big scene right there in front of God and everybody. But,” he shook his head, “somehow in the middle of all that rage, I got some clarity and I finally saw her for who she really was. If she could just fucking leave us like that, go off and start a new life with some complete stranger, then I had no use for her. She could never have been the type of mother I needed anyway. She was too angry and bitter and way too selfish. I realized then that maybe her taking off the way she did was the best thing she was capable of doing for us.”

Maybe he was right. The fact that he’d had the presence of mind to discern something like that in such a moment spoke volumes about his character. Even at such a young age. More than likely, Emma would have caused that scene he talked about. She felt such rage on his behalf, even now, so many years after the fact. He had turned out better than most men she knew, especially given the circumstances. But his mother’s abandonment had left scars that had shaped his life. She was kind of glad his mother hadn’t seen him since. That woman didn’t deserve to know that her son had turned out to be such a good man.

“Adam didn’t see it the way you did?” she asked.

Sneering, he gave a stiff jerk of his head. “No, he didn’t. I think that was the moment that he pretty much decided that he was done with women, emotionally speaking. That’s why he’s such a man-whore.”

She couldn’t help it, she had to laugh. He shot her a glance out of the corner of his eye and that small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah I know, Adam’s shameless and it shows.”

Emma held her free hand up. “I said nothing.”

He turned toward her then, that same corner of his mouth twitching. “You didn’t have to. But it’s cool. We all know how he is and he’s careful.”

“I’m just glad that you aren’t like that,” she said then immediately felt awkward for all the implications of that statement. Realistically, it shouldn’t matter to her who he slept with as she would be gone in a few weeks. But she would be lying to herself if she said it didn’t.

Then he made it worse by not saying anything for a long time after. His gaze refocused on the calm trickle of water and she was left to wonder what thoughts moved through his mind. Had she made a faux pas just now? Suggesting that he might mean something more to her than an extremely inspirational fuck-buddy? Maybe that was the last thing he wanted to hear right now. Especially on the heels of rehashing all that went down with his mother.

On the flip side, though, he didn’t have to tell her about his mother at all. That he had shared such a big part of his past showed that he at least trusted her as a friend. And the fact that he still held her hand firmly in his as he idly played with her fingers wasn’t a bad sign either. Problem was, she just didn’t know.

As she was about to overanalyze everything she had said to him tonight, he saved her by opening his mouth. And the words that came out left her speechless.

“You asked me what I came here to think about, past and present. I told you the past part, but that’s all old shit. Now, when I ride up here, mostly what I’m thinking about is you.”

As those words ricocheted around in her head, he kept his steady gaze on the creek. A million questions popped into her head. All of them involving what exactly his thoughts were and if he saw them moving forward in their relationship instead of going their separate ways. But the quiet way he had spoken and the way he steadfastly avoided her eyes told her that he would be in no way comfortable having that conversation right now. The information he just gave her was strictly food for thought. To let her know that his thoughts and hers weren’t so far apart without having to really say it all out loud. So she let all those excited questions die on her tongue and tried to find a way to calm her racing heart.

Instead, she ignored it like she sensed he wanted her to, an asked him a completely unrelated question. “So, besides being a neighborhood hoodlum, and coming up here to think, what did you do for fun around here?”

That got his attention. “Really? Hoodlum?”

She smiled and shrugged.

Shaking his head, he returned her smile. “Actually, there’s not a whole hell of a lot to do around here. Which is why I always used to skip over to the next town.”

“I’m intrigued. What was so exciting about the next town over?”

“It’s bigger for one. So that meant more opportunities to get into trouble.” He shot her a playful grin and the sheer wickedness in that smile sent a jolt of awareness right through her. “But mostly I used to go for the raves.”

Now that was probably the last thing she had expected him to say.

“Wait. You’re a raver?” She couldn’t keep the skepticism out of her tone. When he just returned what was sure to be her stupefied look with his usual calm and slightly bored expression, she shook herself out of it. “I seriously don’t even know why I’m surprised. Is there anything you can’t or haven’t done?”

“I can’t draw for shit.”

Annnnnnd there she went again with that dumfounded expression. “What?”

He shrugged. “Seriously, it’s all stick figures and squiggly lines.”

“What?” she repeated.

He laughed. “You asked. Besides, you’ve never gone to a rave?”

Giving him a mock frown, she said, “Sadly, no. Not a lot of raves where I grew up and as an adult I’ve been too busy.”

A line of pain went right down the center of his face as he frowned at her. “I think the question I should be asking here is, what do you do for fun? ‘Cause from where I’m sitting, Sugar, it looks like you’re severely lacking in that area.”

Pulling her hand from his, she crossed her arms over her chest. She didn’t want to answer that question because he kind of had a point and honestly it embarrassed her.

In the end, she didn’t have to. He stood up and muttered, “c’mon,” before he started walk toward the bike.

Warily she followed him, then took the helmet he handed her when she reached him. “Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you to your very first, and long overdue, rave, Sugar,” he replied as he put on his own helmet.

Emma could feel how wide her eyes got and she backed away from the bike. “Oh, no. I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” he asked blandly as he mounted the motorcycle.

“Because I sincerely doubt that’s my scene, Ben. I would be so out of place, it’s not even funny.”

It surprised her when he laughed. “No you wouldn’t.”

Didn’t matter how hot he was, or how sexy that low laugh sounded, she wasn’t getting on that bike. Remaining silent, she shook her head.

He sighed. “You’re a writer, right?”

“Right,” she said, wondering what that had to do with anything.

“And I’m supposed to be helping you with your writing, giving you ideas and experiences and whatnot, right?”

Again she replied in the affirmative.

“Then don’t you think, as a writer, you should learn to be a collector of experiences? If for no other reason than to add variety and authenticity to your work?”

Oh, he was good. And sneaky. She hadn’t seen that one coming, but when he put it like that…

Grudgingly, she put the helmet on and climbed onto the bike behind him. But not before poking him in the side. “How’d you get to be so smart, anyway?”

She could see the wry twist to his lips as he spoke.

“Musta been all that time I spent as the neighborhood hoodlum. Who knew delinquency could sharpen the mind like that?” Then with that, the motorcycle roared to life, disturbing the quiet surrounding them and they sped away.

 

 

 

So many people rushed and swayed on that dance floor that Emma feared if she joined them, she would never find her way back out.

The old abandoned factory was just one big open space. Of course, very little of that space could be defined as open. All around her, bodies pulsed and gyrated to the heavy base of the techno music blasting through speakers that seemed to be set up in every corner of the building.

She stood with Ben on a landing at the top of a set of metal stairs, looking down at the throbbing mass of people. Strobe lights went off in colorful time to the rhythmic beat of the music, touching every space of the vast room. Massive crowds like this always made her nervous despite the fact that she’d lived in the city for the better part of a decade. Maybe it was insecurity, maybe it was distrust, or maybe it was just a touch of claustrophobia. Whatever it was, the fact remained that Emma didn’t like the idea of going down there.

Ben diverted her attention by placing his hand against the small of her back. She turned to him.

“You.” She pointed at him. “Want to go down there?” She redirected her finger to indicate the crowd below.

Rather than humor or irritation, the look he gave her was full of inexorable patience. “I do.” He nodded. “But I want to go down there with you.”

“You’re gonna lose me in the herd of people if we go down there.”

“No, I won’t.” Slowly, he slid his hand down her arm and entwined their fingers. “Don’t worry, I won’t let you go, Sugar.”

Taking a deep breath, she looked back down at the crowd.

“Promise?” She tried for a joking, flippant tone but failed epically. She could plainly hear the anxiety in her own voice.

His free hand cupped her face and pulled her gaze back to him. “I promise.” The steely resolve in his eyes calmed her nerves enough to allow him to lead her down the stairs.

When they reached the bottom and were about to enter the throng of people, he kept going but got stopped by the tug of her hand when she quit moving. Turning to face her so that his back was to the crowd, he tugged on her hand, jerking her body into his. His arm wrapped around her waist in a secure hold and he started backing onto the dance floor, pulling her with him.

“Focus on me, Emma.” And she did. She couldn’t look anywhere else but at his face, everything else around him too overwhelming.

Then he started to move.

“Just let go, Sugar.” He pulled her with him as his body joined the rhythm of the crowd. The death grip he had on her hand never loosened but his arm dropped away from around her waist when she started to jump and move along with him to the frantic pace of the music.

Eventually – when she got the hang of it – she started to have fun. It was different than dancing in a regular club but not as threatening or violent as being in a mosh-pit. And with Ben right there with her, she really didn’t have to worry about the other people around them. He had her and all her focus centered on him.

Soon she found herself wondering what she had been so worried about. The minutes and hours blended together as she lost herself inside the music with her lover. And that was most definitely what he was. Her lover. There was no denying that or getting around it. His hands were everywhere on her, urgent and proprietary in the way she had confessed to him that she loved.

At some point, the music began to change. Going from a fast paced heavy bass, to something hypnotic and sultry. Now, instead of bouncing and jumping together, laughing and carefree, he slowly started to grind his body against hers. That strong arm once again wrapped around her, pulling her into him and the air between them turned thick with sensual tension.

His amber eyes seemed to glow in the strange lighting and in them she saw something she very much recognized and was coming to relish. Possessive heat. She knew what followed a look like that and when he bent his head to cover her mouth with his, she wasn’t disappointed. As his mouth devoured hers, that word that she hadn’t been able to get out of her head since yesterday roared through her mind. Mine.

Yes she was, she realized. She was utterly and completely his. There really wasn’t any turning back from that now. It seemed he had ruined her for every other man.

Fuck Prince Charming. All she wanted was Ben.