8
Ben
The damn door to their room was harder to unlock than a bank safe. Ben fumbled with the keys, working around anxious hands and an even more anxious Beth tangled around him.
“I can’t get… give me a sec…” he mumbled against her lips, which then upturned and planted even more kisses. If she didn’t stop he was going to drop trou right there and pray no innocent passersby came upon them—for everyone’s sake.
Beth swung her arms around his neck, sliding her tongue between his lips and cutting off all cognitive function. He dropped the key altogether, a faint tinkle of it hitting the ground muffled by the beating pulse in his ears. His hands grasped her face, keeping her close, matching her stroke for stroke.
“Ben, get that door open.”
“Trying.”
“Try harder.”
“I dropped the key.”
She pulled back, flicking her eyes briefly to the key at their feet. “Aw, is your blood already draining from your brain?”
She was teasing, but he nodded against her forehead. No other description was more accurate.
“Your fault.”
A grin pulled at her lips—a grin that sent a warm rush of relief down the back of his neck. She was back. The Beth he’d asked out years ago with sweaty palms and shaky breath. The Beth he’d fallen for the moment she came out of her room with those fuzzy emoji slippers. The Beth he was determined to make his wife, and he suddenly felt more urgent than ever to get back to the shop, fix the car, and get to Disneyland and drop to a knee.
She slithered down his frame, a sexy look in her honey-colored gaze as she picked up the key and easily slid it into the lock. Her fingers curled around the hem of his shirt, and she pulled him inside. As the door clicked shut behind them, it felt as if they’d left not just the world outside, but all of the baggage they’d carried for the past year.
***
Birds were singing, the sun was shining, and Ben was stark naked next to his beautiful girlfriend, debating on whether or not to ever leave this bed.
He inhaled deeply, basking in the afterglow of a great day followed by a night he’d never forget. Beth was turned away from him, which wasn’t abnormal—she liked to be the little spoon, but with the king-sized bed, Ben was almost another person away from her. He inched closer, but didn’t move too much; her breathing was deep and sound, and letting her sleep seemed like a better idea. They’d been up pretty late, after all.
A grin pulled at his lips, and he tucked his hands under his head. Perhaps their Hope Falls detour was a good thing—maybe the best lemonade ever made out of their sour situation. He was tempted to pull out the ring now and wake her up with it. His eyes drifted over to where he’d hidden it in his suitcase. There’d been so many times when he wanted to, so many times when he nearly had—including last night—but with her mood, his extra pounds, he hadn’t been sure of the timing. Somehow, he didn’t have those worries anymore, not after the way she looked at him yesterday, how she touched him last night. She had made him feel like he was just like one of the many Godlike men that ran around town.
No… she made him feel better than that—like he was the most attractive man to set foot on the earth.
It was a good night.
He stretched, unable to keep himself from shuffling over to her. He nuzzled into her hair, breathing in the scent of the Mountain Ridge complimentary shampoo mixed with the scent that was all Beth. His hand snaked around her middle, but stopped when she purposely skirted away from his touch.
“Good morning,” he said, surprised she was awake. Maybe his hands were cold.
“Morning.”
His heart thumped unevenly at the way the word clipped off her tongue, and his voice took on a cautionary tone. “You okay?” he asked. There was something in the way her body didn’t move toward him, in the way her voice was hollow, not sleepy or dazed like it normally was. He was afraid to look into her eyes and find the same sadness that had rested there before they’d arrived in Hope Falls.
She took a moment to respond. “Fine.”
Maybe he could tease her out of this one. “You sure you aren’t fantastic? Fabulous? Free? Any other F word that isn’t ‘fine?’”
Nothing. Not the hint of a smile or roll of the eyes. She laid still, staring at the wall.
“You know what’s on the agenda today?” He kept up his playful tone, ready to lean in and whisper something that had the intention to be sexy, but was really not sexy at all.
“Fix the car,” she said, not an ounce of humor to her words. His brow knitted together—that was exactly what he was going to say, but it sounded much harsher coming from her.
He rolled to his back, blowing out a breath that didn’t hide his frustration at all. Was it too much to ask for a smile, a laugh, some kind of indication that last night wasn’t just a phenomenal dream?
“Sorry,” she muttered after a good thirty seconds of silence.
“You sound it.”
That finally got some sort of reaction, and she turned toward him, eyes narrowed. “What do you want, Ben? I just woke up.”
“I don’t know,” he said, tossing his hands up and letting them fall back to his sides. “We’re not even two seconds into the day, and it feels like you’re biting my head off.”
“I haven’t said anything.”
“Exactly.” He sat up, grabbing the back of his head in a sore attempt to calm down. But it was all boiling to the surface—a year of trying and failing to cheer her up, make the most out of their situation. Last night he’d finally felt like they’d had a breakthrough, but there he was, failing all over again.
“You aren’t telling me what the hell it is I’m doing wrong.”
“You aren’t doing anything wrong.”
“Then why are you acting like this? Why have you been acting like this? Every time I think you’re finally happy, you start moping again.”
Her eyes started to water—great, he’d done it now.
“I’m allowed to have bad moods.”
He shook his head. “This isn’t a bad mood. This is… different. Almost as if you have no mood at all. You’re distant and you won’t talk to me about it, so I have no clue what ‘it’ is. I just want to fix…” He waved his hand out helplessly. “Fix this.”
She sat up, keeping the sheet wrapped around her top half. “There’s nothing to fix. I’m fine.”
“Your eyes say differently.”
“My eyes don’t say anything.”
The joke fell dead between them, the silent air sucking out all the life in the room—including Ben’s frustration. Now all he felt was sorry, maybe even a bit ridiculous. But it couldn’t be all in his head—she’d definitely woken up on the wrong side today—and he wondered if maybe she wasn’t saying anything because she didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
“Is it… Do I still do it for you?”
She jerked back. “What?”
He spread his arms wide, not hiding his gut at all. “We moved to Idaho and I ballooned. Is that what’s happening?”
The look on her face was genuine shock, as if she was just noticing his belly now.
“Ben… this isn’t about you.”
“Then what’s it about?” he asked, his brain still fighting over whether or not to believe her.
“I… I don’t know.”
Now he definitely didn’t believe her.
He let out another long breath, tired of fighting, tired of trying so hard to make her happy when obviously, he just wasn’t the man to do it.
“I’ll get the car done today,” he said, pushing out of bed. He was dressed faster than Beth got him undressed the night before. There wasn’t an argument from her, a pause in her breathing, a hesitation at all as he walked out the door. It didn’t surprise him, but he’d hoped she would’ve pulled him back inside and told him the truth. Because unless they fixed whatever was happening, he wasn’t sure how she’d react to a proposal.