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Bucking Bareback by Maggie Monroe (20)

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

Chelsea

 

The dust settled on the gravel as Ben’s car turned the last corner for the main road. I didn’t want to go back inside and I didn’t want to stand out here moping. I had just had the most incredible birthday of my life. Turning twenty-six had become an epic event—beyond epic.

Ben had intended the Silver Sand Dollar gift to be the big surprise, but I thought the time I spent with his mother and sister was the real gift. It opened my eyes to how Ben got to be Ben. The way his sister teased him relentlessly and the way his mother adored him gave me a full picture of the man I was falling more in love with every day.

I sat on the front porch, admiring the wide planks that stretched across the floor. It reminded me a little of what was now my mother’s porch. This was the perfect spot for an old sheepdog, or maybe a lab. I ran my hands over the wood. I wondered if Ben would want to get a dog.

Life here with him would be amazing, at least the times he was here. I could spend every birthday with him, expecting some kind of over-the-top surprise. He would always sweep me off my feet when he rushed through the front door, but then leave me feeling empty when it was time to go.

It wasn’t a normal life. It wasn’t predictable or cliché. It was life with Ben Baldwin. Maybe predictable was boring. Maybe all the normalcy and mundane daily chores are what drove my father to find excitement somewhere else. Maybe that was the real recipe for heartache, not this.

All this time I had thought Ben sought boring and normal, but that didn’t really fit with how he lived life. It wouldn’t be enough to hold him still. Normal had a freshness and raw presence for him over the summer. Eventually, that would weather into predictability, and predictability was the gateway to dullness. Ben could never handle dull.

It hadn’t taken me long to fall in love with the ranch. It was kind of like Ben, surrounding my senses and invading my thoughts before I knew it had happened. I was a beach girl. A complete island girl, but now I awoke to a day and a place that was as salt-less as the desert. Part of me had soaked it in, as if being on the ranch was a way of getting to know him better, loving him more. And the other half of me knew I would have loved it regardless of whether he was the one guiding me through this new existence.

It had its own smells, its own sounds. The rhythm here reminded me of the waves at home.

Ben still didn’t have my answer. It was on the tip of my tongue every time he flashed a smile in my direction or dropped a kiss on my lips. This could be my life—our life.

Everything was so perfect the night of my birthday that I was afraid to open up about what it would mean for us to move in together. Even more scared to ask him if he had thought about what it would be like to relax into life with me. Had he pictured life six months from now when all the newness was gone? That question scared me most of all.

I rose from the steps and turned toward the house. Somewhere in all of this was a song. I had the rest of the day to put it on paper.

 

***

 

The next morning, I hurried up the front steps of Blue Steel and tapped on the elevator button. I had two minutes before I was supposed to meet with Quinn.

“Come on, come on,” I muttered under my breath, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

“Do you usually talk to elevators?” A deep voice carried over my shoulder.

I turned to see who it came from. Standing inches from me was a guy with dark hair, broad shoulders, and a chiseled jawline that could have been cut from a block of marble.

“You’re Mark Weston.” I knew I was standing there like any other fan girl, but I couldn’t help it.

“Umm, last time I checked.” He winked. “And you are?”

“Oh, um I’m Chelsea Davis. I write songs with Quinn Jansen here.” I wanted to slap my forehead. That sounded like stupid name-dropping, but what did you say when Mark Weston was next to you?

The elevator doors retracted and Mark stepped inside. “You comin’?”

“Oh, right. Yes.” I lifted my head, as if that would clear the buzz of stardust. I tapped the three button.

“I guess it’d make sense we’re headed to the third floor together.” He leaned against the wall.

“Do you have a meeting or something?” I had read up on all the talent signed with Blue Steel, and Mark had not been on that list. I would have remembered his name.

“If you can keep a little secret, I’ll tell you.” He leaned toward my ear. “I’m getting ready to jump ship. Thinking about coming here.”

“Oh, wow. That’s big.”

“It is. It is. Tell me, what do you think about the label? If you write with Quinn, you must have some insight. Do you like Blue Steel?”

“Well, I’m sorta new, so maybe not the best person to ask, but—” I paused. “I like it. I think it’s a great label and you’d definitely be happy here. They take care of their artists. That much I know. Quinn loves it.”

The doors opened and Mark placed his hand on the side, allowing me to step out first.

“Thanks for the insider tip. I bet I’ll be seeing you around soon.” He winked again and walked toward Brandon’s office, leaving me in the lobby starstruck and giddy.

Quinn called from down the hall. “Hey, in here.”

I shook my head and hustled to meet Quinn.

“What was that all about? Were you just talking to Mark Weston?”

I nodded, knowing I had just made a complete fool of myself. “Yeah, looks like he’s meeting with Brandon.”

“Huh.” Quinn tossed herself on the couch where we liked to write. “So much for pushing all the girl power stuff.” She used air quotes and more sarcasm than I had heard from her before.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. What does Mark have to do with girl power?”

Quinn laughed. “I forget sometimes that you’re still new to the business. Look, if Brandon wants Mark, then they obviously aren’t going after all the top female talent that’s out there. Sure they can draw in all the screaming girls they want with his ass and those eyes, but you and me—that’s not the direction they’re taking.”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t necessarily mean that.”

“Honey, I know what I’m talking about. If Mark is coming on board, then you and I have to make this album kick ass, because there’s no telling how long we’ll have the full backing of the label. Right now might be the only time.”

“But Brandon said in our meeting—”

“It doesn’t matter what he said then. What matters is what he does now.” She reached for her guitar and strummed a C chord. “Come on. We have work to do. What do you have for me? I need to forget Brandon is in a meeting with Mark. Distractions, right?”

I fumbled to pull my notebook out of my bag. “I wrote something yesterday after Ben left. I think you should try it.”

Quinn balanced it on her knee and sounded out the notes. “You did this one yesterday?”

I nodded.

“Wow. I think we might have just given Mark Weston a run for his money. Who cares about dark dreamy eyes?” Quinn laughed and started belting out the song.

By the time I left Blue Steel, it was almost dark. I threw my bag on my shoulder and marched to the elevators. Quinn said she was going to stop by and talk to Brandon before she left for the night. Something about digging up the truth on Mark’s visit.

I reached the lobby, nodding at the front desk receptionist, and walked straight into the wall. Only this wall had legs, dark hair, and chestnut eyes.

“You again?” He chuckled.

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” I looked up, realizing I had almost plowed Mark to the floor.

“I don’t think any permanent damage was done.” He wiped off the front of his shirt.

“Good. I mean, I’m sorry. I wasn’t really paying attention and I just—”

“Hey, it’s not a big deal, but if you’re looking for a way to make it up to me, you’ll let me buy you a cup of coffee.”

My eyes shot to his. “Oh no, I can’t. I have a boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend, huh? Well, does he object to you repaying your debts? Or is he just the completely jealous kind that doesn’t let you out of his sights?” He had yet to stop smiling.

“No, he’s not like that.” I shook my head. Ben was definitely overprotective and always worried about my safety, but I would never call him jealous. I had never given him reason to be.

“Perfect, then he won’t object to me buying you a cup of coffee so you can apologize for running into me and almost killing me.”

“Ok, that was not going to kill you.” I put my hands on my hips.

“Maybe not, but that’s not what I’m going to tell the officer.”

I giggled. “Ok, ok. I’ll have coffee with you, but we have to make it quick. I have a call I’m expecting.”

“Oh, big time songwriting conference? They do those at night?”

“Actually, no it’s with my not-jealous boyfriend.”

Mark grinned. “Look, I’ve got to run upstairs real fast and grab something I left in Brandon’s office. Wait for me here or want to come up?”

“I’ll wait.” I walked toward one of the lobby seats.

“Be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” He pointed at me and darted in the elevator.

The doors closed behind him. This was fine, right? Innocent coffee meeting with probably the newest, most successful artist to join the Blue Steel label. It was just my way of welcoming him to the team. I fidgeted with my hands, wringing them together until they were almost bright pink.

Five minutes later, Mark stepped out of the elevators. “Ready?”

“Yep. I’m ready.” No matter what I kept telling myself, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was doing something terribly wrong.

“There’s a little place around the corner.” He held the door for me.

“I think I know which one you’re talking about. Quinn and I get coffee there all the time.”

“The diva gets her own coffee?” He joked as we strolled on the sidewalk.

“She is not a diva. Far from it.”

“Hmm. Interesting.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Funny, because she said something similar about you.” I smirked.

“Sounds like we both need to get our stories straight.” He stopped in front of the coffee shop and kept the door ajar for me to pass through.

I walked to the counter and ordered a latte. At this point in the day, I wasn’t worried about the caffeine. By the time I made it home, I’d be too exhausted to let caffeine keep me awake. Songwriting all day had wiped me out.

Mark pulled out his wallet to pay.

“Oh no, I’ve got this.” I started digging through my bag for my wallet.

“I don’t think so. This was part of your payback, remember?” He handed his card to the cashier who hadn’t taken her eyes off him. She was just as stunned Mark was standing in front of her.

“Ok, but just this once. I can get my own drinks.”

“I’m sure you can.” He chuckled and moved to a corner table.

Mark had a sort of easiness about him. He seemed just as comfortable in the Blue Steel offices as in the coffee shop. It reminded me a little of Ben’s confidence and how every situation came to him effortlessly. I was waiting for some of that to rub off on me. I still felt awkward and unsure in Austin.

I carried the hot cup to the table, noticing the barista had topped my latte with a foam heart. Totally unnecessary.

Mark kept his back to the window and all his attention on me. “All right, so tell me your story.”

I tested the top layer to see how hot it was. “My story?”

“Yeah. Artists all have a story: musicians, singers, songwriters, there’s a story for all of us. What’s yours?” He held up a hand. “Wait, wait don’t tell me. Let me guess. Starving waitress, writing between shifts, singing telegrams as a second job until you were discovered by a scout whose fiancé sent you to his office to surprise him for his birthday, and he was so blown away by your original lyrics he asked to hear more. Tell me I’m right.”

I covered my mouth, muffling my laughter. “Not so much, and not nearly that dramatic, but wow, you are good with this stuff. Maybe I should have been born from such a story, but there’s not much to tell really. I am going to completely disappoint you. I’ve been in Austin almost two months. I signed on with Blue Steel in August. I’m writing with Quinn on her new album.” I decided the latte was still too hot to attempt.

He laughed. “Keeping it simple, I guess. You had to come from somewhere. You don’t sound like you’re from Texas. What’s that accent?”

“North Carolina. Is it that bad?” I hadn’t thought about it before. Everyone sounded the same on Brees Island. Suddenly, I was self-conscious of how I pronounced my Is.

“Nah, nah, I can just tell you’re not from here.”

“What about you? Where are you from?” I asked.

“The great state of Georgia. Southern boy through and through.”

Looking at him, he didn’t seem like a typical Southern boy. His jeans were ripped, there was a tattoo peeking out of his T-shirt along his neck, and he had on a thin fitted jacket. He looked like an artist. Maybe one who had a grittier start than I did.

“I guess that makes us neighbors.” I smiled.

“I think it does.” He took a sip of his drink. When he looked up, I laughed at the foam mustache covering his top lip.

“You have a little something…”

Mark dabbed at his lip, but kept missing one place. I picked up my napkin. “Here, that looks ridiculous.”

I reached across the table and blinked at the heavy camera flash. I whipped around toward the window. Standing outside the coffeehouse were three photographers, smiling and waving.

“Oh, God.” I shrank into my seat.

Mark angled his position to get a look at them. “Man, I must be losing my appeal. There are only three out there.”

I tried to shield the side of my face with my hair, but there wasn’t as much to cover my embarrassment.

“You ok?” He placed a hand on top of mine, and the flashes fired rapidly through the window.

I pulled back immediately. “You can’t do that.”

He held his hands up in defense. “Whoa, what’s going on? Spooked by a few pictures? They’ll be gone in a second once they have their story.”

“I don’t want to be their story.”

“It’s not a big deal. They follow me pretty much wherever I go. I’m sure you’ve had this with Quinn.”

Mark took another sip of his coffee, this time thoroughly wiping his mouth with his own napkin.

“This is not good. I need to go.” I grabbed my bag.

“I can’t let you leave this upset. Hold up a second.” His fingers clamped down on my wrist. “Sit for just a minute, ok?”

I slid into the seat. “I need to go. I can’t stay.”

“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” He leaned closer.

I sighed. “Remember the boyfriend I mentioned?”

He nodded. “Worried he’ll see pictures of us having coffee?”

“Yes, but it could be worse than that.” I paused, regretting the entire coffee encounter. “He’s Ben Baldwin.”

Mark belted out a deep laugh, filling the coffeehouse. The patrons next to them turned around. “Come on, you’re not serious.”

I bit my lip. “I’m dead serious. I’m staying at his ranch.”

“Shit.” He whistled. “I guess I don’t have a shot if you’re seeing him.”

My eyes darted toward his. “I told you I had a boyfriend.”

“A man can try, can’t he?” Be leaned back in his seat.

“No, he can’t. I told you.” I closed my eyes. There had to be a way out of the coffee shop that didn’t involve a photo op.

“Ben’s got to be used to this kind of crap. It’s not like we were doing anything. We’re in a public place having a cup of coffee. Just two co-workers shooting the shit.” He made it sound innocent and harmless.

I pulled out my phone.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’ve got to call him and tell him. What if he gets the wrong idea?” My hands were shaking.

“You’re really going to call him about this? It’s nothing. You’re going to interrupt him wherever he is to say you’re having coffee with someone from work? Talk about going over the top. He’s used to much bigger things, but if you think it’s worth it to bring it up and disturb his work, go for it. You know him better than me.”

I placed the phone on the table. I knew Ben was shooting all day. We weren’t supposed to talk until his next break.

“You’re right. You’re right. There’s nothing to worry about. I’m just not used to the press yet, and it seems like, whenever I turn around, they find me when I’m least expecting it. I don’t know how you and Ben deal with it.”

“It’s part of the territory, sweetheart.”

One of the photographers had left and two were standing outside smoking cigarettes.

“Look, those two will head out soon. Let’s finish our coffee. This will blow over in five minutes. Ok?”

I loosened the grip on my bag. “All right. I’ll stay.”

“Good. I still have a chance to persuade you how charming I am.” He winked. I pierced him with a glare. “I’m kidding. I’m kidding.”

It was hard to relax after the press fiasco, but I found myself laughing and talking for another hour.

 

***

 

I checked my phone one more time before calling Ben. So far, there were no pictures on any of the popular social media sites. Mark was probably right. There wasn’t much of a story, and who really cared about a bunch of pictures of people having coffee? I had gotten worked up for nothing.

I leaned into the pillows on my bed, and dialed Ben’s number.

“Hey, darlin’, I was just thinking about you.”

“You were? What were you thinking?” I looked at the picture of the two of us I had framed next to the bed.

“Thinking about your birthday night.”

“Oh really?”

“Of course. Hoping we can do that again soon.”

“Me too,” I whispered into the phone. Sometimes these calls made me ache for him more than before I heard his voice. This was one of those times. “How was shooting today?”

“It was all right. I had to wear a tux all day for the ball scene.”

“Oh, I thought they would shoot that at night since the party was outside some.”

“The magic of Hollywood, baby. We were inside the studio most of the day, and then we did just a few takes outside once the sun went down.”

“Right.” I twisted my lips. I must sound like an idiot. Someone should write an insider’s guide to moviemaking.

“While I was on set, I started thinking about some of the events coming up in the spring, and taking you out all dressed up. Maybe show off this tux with you on my arm.”

“I-I don’t know if I’m ready for the red carpet.” Just the thought made my palms clammy.

“We’ve got time to get you ready.”

“Besides, what about the plan to have you and Rebecca make all the appearances together?”

He sighed into the phone. “The movie will be out by then. I think the buzz will be big enough. But, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I know it’s a lot to ask. I was just thinking about you today in one of these gowns, that’s all. I didn’t mean to put pressure on you.”

“Can we talk about it as it gets closer?”

“Of course, darlin’. There’s plenty of time for that.”

In the back of my head, I thought about mentioning Mark. Even if it didn’t make the media buzz, it was an event. I had run into one of the hottest artists on the planet, and he had confided in me he was ready to leave his label. But Mark’s warnings surfaced.

“You there, Chelsea?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, just thinking about the spring and the movie premiere.”

“You know what the best part of spring is in Texas?” he asked.

“No, what is it?”

“The blue bonnets. You are going to love the ranch. It’s covered in them. It’s like looking out on a blue-purple sea. It’s the only time the ranch kind of looks like the beach.” He laughed.

I closed my eyes and tried to picture anything but pale green grasses and bales of hay in the fields. Spring. Ben was thinking about me living at the ranch in the spring.

“I bet it’s beautiful.”

“You know what else I think is beautiful?”

I blushed, already knowing what his answer was going to be. “What’s that?”

“You. But especially when you’re just about to fall asleep.”

“Kind of like right now?” I had slipped under the covers. The time difference was two hours, but on a day like today, two hours were enough to make the exhaustion feel heavier. I had poured everything into those songs.

“Oh, you getting in bed?”

“I’m already in bed. I can barely keep my eyes open.”

“I’m thinking about getting in bed too. Can I join you?” His voice dipped lower.

I looked at the empty pillow next to me, craving him, wishing he wasn’t so many states away. “Of course.”

“You know what I’d do if I was there with you right now?”

My skin prickled. “What would you do?”

“I can think of so many things. Will you pretend I’m there?”

I nodded. “Yes,” I whispered.

“If I were lying next to you, first I’d turn off the lights so I would have to feel every inch of you. Is the light off?”

I reached up and twisted the switch on the lamp, then settled back on my pillow. “It is now.”

“Good. I’d start by kissing your neck. Then I’d move to your throat. But I couldn’t stay there. I’d move down your body, making sure to kiss your breast. Do you know how that would feel?”

Slowly, I slid my fingers over my body, following his words as if he were giving me a road map. “Yes.”

He groaned into the phone. “But that wouldn’t be enough. I’d have to kiss your stomach, and you know I can’t stop there.”

My breathing quickened and the heaviness that had settled into my limbs felt like utter relaxation.

“You have to help me with the next part, baby.”

I nodded, but knew he couldn’t see me. I was working off lust fumes.

“Ok. Tell me,” I urged into the phone, ready to take his challenge. This was the first time he had been this assertive on the phone.

“If I were there, my hands would be all over you, touching you everywhere. I’d let my fingers trail between your legs. But first, you better take off those panties. Can you do that? Take them all the way off.”

I almost whimpered, but I slid them over my hips and kicked them into the covers.

“And once I could have free roam of you, I’d touch you. And keep touching you until your hips started moving, until you started purring, and you wanted more.”

I heard his rapid breathing. “Ben, I need you here.”

“I know. Me too. But try it. I’m with you, just not that close.” The huskiness in his voice was enough to make me shiver. “Will you try it for me?”

“Ok, tell me.” The need had started building and my core was aching. He had done all of this to me with only words. Heated, strong words that brought images and fantasies to the front of my imagination.

“My fingers would start slowly, and barely graze your skin, but soon you’d open up to me. And the wider you move, the farther I go. And I’d keep touching you until you begged me to let you come.” He stopped and my head rolled to the side. “I’d just keep going deeper and deeper, making you wider. Your hips moving against my hand. Feeling all of you.”

“Ben.” It was barely a whisper.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I want to. Please let me. Please.” I was moving under the covers, coiled so tightly I thought I would scream if he didn’t release me.

“God, I wish I was with you.” His voice sounded strained. “I wish I could feel you.”

The waves struck me, and the phone slid off the pillow as I let the feeling unfold and consume me. I sighed and inhaled quietly. Somewhere in the tangled blankets was Ben’s voice.

“Sorry, I’m here. I just lost the phone for a second.” I smiled, wishing he were here, but also feeling incredibly sexy and powerful for what I had done with my body.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“Amazing. And probably more tired than before.” It was a good kind of tired.

“Me too.”

“Ben, that-I-eh, I’ve never done that before.” I giggled.

“God, you really are trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

I stared at the ceiling. “I like that we try new things. You make me try new things.”

“Me too, darlin’. Hey, I’ll let you get some sleep. That is if you think you can sleep now.”

“Yes, it was a long day. I wasn’t in a tux all day or anything, but I used up my creative energies.”

“Not all of them.” He laughed.

“Ok, I saved just enough for you. Good night, Ben.”

“Good night.”

I plugged the phone in on the charger next to me and sat up. I pulled the T-shirt over my head, feeling the cool air hit my skin. This was one night I wanted to sleep naked, even if Ben wasn’t here.

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