We sit with our arms wrapped around each other for a long while.
When he pulls away, I know he’s had time to compose himself, but I didn’t mind seeing that side of him—in fact, I liked knowing we’re both a little frayed.
He clears his throat. “Hey, I’ve never told anyone my theory. It’s just what I think, but I’m telling you now because I believe everyone makes their own choices and your father, my father, they made theirs. Don’t blame yourself. Your father wouldn’t want that. Is that why you didn’t quit when Wyatt’s harassing started? Some kind of need to succeed?”
I nod.
“Hey, you are not a failure at anything. Do you hear me?”
I’m still nodding, but words escape me.
Suddenly the sliding door flies open. “You finally decided to come home,” Trent yells, and stops in his tracks when sees us. “Oh, f**k, sorry.”
“You okay?” Ben whispers in my ear.
“Yes,” I whisper back. I wipe away my tears and stand. “Hi, you must be Trent.”
“And you must be Bell.” He grins and his eyes, just like Ben’s, rove over me from head to toe.
Ben stands up and walks over to him, knocking the side of his head.
He rubs it with hand. “What was that for?”
“You know what it was for, kid.”
I giggle. Like uncle, like nephew. Isn’t that a saying?
“Well, I’m leaving at five to go back to college, so I wanted to stop by and say good-bye.”
Ben looks at him with a pride I find endearing. “You know I hate to say this, but I’m going to miss you.”
Trent snickers. “I’m starving. You making lunch?”
“Yes, I’m starving too and you did promise food,” I remind him.
“I make a mean stir-fry.”
“Vegetables?” I make a face.
“I ate Chinese for two days with Uncle Caleb while you disappeared.”
“I didn’t disappear. And where’s Caleb anyway?”
“He left you a note. It’s in the kitchen.”
“What’s it say? That he loves me?”
“Yes, that he’s pining away for you,” Trent jokes. “No, I guess something came up at work, because he was called back early. He said he’d be in touch when he could.”
Ben pats the pocket of his jeans and then shrugs. “He could have called me.”
“We both decided we didn’t want to bother you.”
He taps his head again. I like seeing this side of Ben with his family.
“Cut it out or I’m telling Bell how I had to tell you how to find her.”
“Oh, do tell,” I say.
Ben glares at Trent and takes my hand. “I owe this beautiful lady a tour. When I’m done I’ll run out and get us some flatbreads from the Loft.”
Inside, Trent flops on the large sofa and grabs the remote. “Sounds awesome.”
The entire place is stunning, but my eyes keep going back to the towering ficus tree. “It’s beautiful,” I comment as we climb the stairs that lead to the second-floor balcony.
Ben follows me, hooking his finger in my belt loop and staying very close. I like him there. I reach the top stair and turn around. “Everything here is perfect. I can see why you can call it home so quickly. This place reminds me why I hate my apartment.”
He steps up so that we are nose to nose. “Why?”
“It’s so small and claustrophobic. My living room only has two windows, one door, very little direct sunlight.”
“I can understand that. Why don’t you move?”
I crane my head toward the skylight above us. “I thought I just hated living alone. I never understood why . . . until now.”
His hands coast down my sides. “Let me show you my room.”
“Please do but remember your nephew is downstairs.” I wave my finger back and forth. “So no monkey business.” But honestly I want him, all of him. Now. But I know we have to wait.
“Like that’s what I had in mind,” he says as if appalled, and tugs my hand.
I squeeze his—hard.
The door is open, so he steps aside. I walk in and scan the gallery of graffiti-style artwork that lines the walls. It’s just how I’d have pictured his room to be. “I love it. It’s so you.”
As he laughs he starts walking us toward the bed. “What do you mean?”
“The whole place screams low-key beach living, but it’s also got style.”
Turning me around, with his body pressed against mine, he lowers us to the bed and hovers over me. “Go on.”
I look up into his eyes, smell his familiar scent, feel his body, and I know—I have fallen for him. I try to control my crazy emotions. We haven’t known each other long enough for me to be feeling like this. But the pull I feel toward him is so much stronger than what I felt in college, so much stronger than I’ve felt for anyone.
“Earth to S’belle, earth to S’belle. Have you gone to heaven?” he laughs.
I smirk at him and try to shove him away, but he doesn’t move. “I don’t know. I feel like it has a barefoot, carefree beach vibe that is all you.”
His mouth finds mine. “I’ve never had a girl in my room before.”
My breathing picks up. “You’ve already got me on your bed. You don’t need to feed me any lines.”
He raises himself up on his forearms. “I’m not. I’ve never had anyone here with me. In fact, until you I haven’t been with anyone since March and I certainly never took anyone to heaven in these sheets,” he adds with the biggest, baddest, devilish grin.
I laugh hard and long because if I don’t I might confess the depth of my feelings for him.
“Spend the night here with me tonight. Be my first.”
I grab his face in that way I know drives him crazy and crush my lips to his. I want to taste his mouth, feel his tongue, touch his body for hours. I want to hear him call my name.
“I’m starving and I have to go soon, so could you hurry it up?” Trent calls from downstairs.
Panting, I smile up at him.
He shakes his head. “I’d kick his ass out if he wasn’t leaving today.”
I lift myself onto my elbows. “I’d love to spend the night.”
He hops off the bed and we head back downstairs. Ben goes out to grab food while I sit down with Trent and talk about college and Hawaii. Before I know it we’re in Ben’s office at his computer and I’m showing Trent just how to accomplish one of his biggest wishes.
“What’s going on?” Ben’s voice carries from the door as he eyes us curiously.
“She’s f**king awesome,” Trent says enthusiastically.
“Yeah, she is but tell me what specifically makes you say that,” he says with a smirk on his face.
“So, you know how I never know what time of day is optimal to hit the waves until the morning tide rolls in?”
Ben nods and moves closer to the desk.
“Well, Bell took all the factors I use to determine when I want to ride and developed a formula she’s going to use to create an app that can forecast over the next week the optimal times of day to hit the surf at whichever beach is selected.”
He rounds the desk to stand behind me. His hands rest on my shoulders, squeezing them in the most delicious way. When I turn my head he’s staring at the screen in amazement. I feel a slight sense of pride that I could put that look on his face.
“I already knew you had a talent with apps, but you never told me you were a math whiz,” he says.
I shrug. “I was a biology major. Math was just a prerequisite.”
“She’s f**king brilliant,” Trent says in awe.
“That and so much more,” Ben responds.
“Come on, let’s eat. I’m starving.”
Ben’s eyes devour me as if I’m what’s for lunch—and the way he looks at me makes me wish I was.
As soon as we’ve finished eating, we say good-bye to Trent and then both fall on the couch in a post-meal stupor. Naps on Sundays are the best. But naps in Ben’s arms, on a sofa that is beyond comfortable, with a view of the ocean, well, that’s almost heaven—almost.
The ocean calms the chaotic and tames the wild in anyone who dares allow it. And I do. And I can tell Ben does.
When we wake up, the sun is just starting to set and he builds a bonfire on the beach so we can sit eating s’mores for dinner while we talk and listen to the sound of the waves as time slows around us. At first we merely kiss and touch each other, but once the touches intensify, we hastily take our clothes off. I even prance around him in my bikini—finally. And with only my top on, we have sex in the sand near the fire.
The entire night is magical in a way I’ve never experienced. Eventually we make our way to his room and he takes me in his bed too. Afterward he holds me tight as I nod off with the same calm I felt on the beach when I first arrived.
CHAPTER 33
Best Day of My Life
Ben
My alarm goes off way too early. The sun is just beginning to rise.
“What time is it?” She pulls the sheet over her head.
“Six,” I say, flopping back on the bed.
“That’s illegal.”
I laugh. “What is?”
“Getting up at six in the morning.”
I shift to my side and press against her before lifting the sheet to find her head so I can nuzzle her neck. “Take a shower with me.”
“It’s too early to get up.”
To persuade her, I run my hands down her sides and across her h*ps to settle between her legs. Her body jerks and she moans. My fingers play with her folds. She tries to act as though she’s going back to sleep, but her movements give away her excitement.
I dip a finger inside her. “Take a shower with me.”
She doesn’t answer, but her body does as it arches in response to my touch. I plunge another finger inside her and go deeper. My other hand fondles one of her br**sts. Then just like that, I take my hands sway and slide out of bed. “Shower with me.”
She lifts the covers off her head. “You play dirty.”
“You have no idea.” I’m sure my grin tells her how much I love getting up in the morning and getting ready for work like this.
By seven we’re both dressed and drinking coffee out on the deck.
“You can stay here today.”
She draws in a deep breath. “I have to get home and figure out what I’m going to do with my life.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, raising an eyebrow, thinking that’s a little deep for the morning when the girl sitting across from me is not a morning person.
“My own event-planning business isn’t going anywhere and Josie tells me Tate plans to blacklist me from every big event.”
“You talked to her?”
“She texted me back last night.”
“Did she say anything else?”
“No, only that Tate contacted her and told her to clean out my desk first thing in the morning, that he had fired me for insubordination.”
“Fuck him. And you don’t know for sure that he’ll blackball you.”
She shrugs. “I’m sure he will if he can. Besides, honestly my own business has turned into more of a catering company than an event-planning one. And the truth is, I enjoyed the whole thing more when I did it for fun.”
“Come work for me.” The words just come out without any forethought or warning.
She quirks a smile and turns to look out toward the ocean. “Right!”
I reach across the table and turn her head to face me. Planned or not, it’s a great idea. “I’m serious. You’re brilliant. I need someone like you. My goal is to bring my publications into the modern era. Beck is working on the technical side of things—development, computer support, links, servers. But I need someone who can handle the social media. You’d be perfect.”
