Chapter Twenty-Two
Lauren belted down the last tequila shot, closed her eyes for a moment or two, and then immediately raised her arm as she tried to signal their waiter. Ben thought that the poor young man was probably hiding in the kitchen, cowering in fear from the crazy woman at his table.
She’d been in a lousy mood even before he had tentatively approached their table, and hadn’t bothered to hide her surprise and irritation to learn that Nathan had invited Ben to join them. From that point on her mood had only worsened as the evening went on, arguing with her sister about what dishes to order, hassling the waiter when something wasn’t prepared to her liking, and drinking – a lot. Ben realized that this was the first time he’d actually seen Lauren drunk, and he hoped like hell that he hadn’t been the cause after dismissing her so coolly from his office earlier today.
Now she was standing, looking around impatiently for their waiter. “Where the hell is that idiot anyway? If he thinks for a minute he’s getting more than a five dollar tip, he’s out of his mind. Nathan, don’t you dare leave him more than that, do you hear me?”
Nathan looked as though he would love nothing better than to strangle his very difficult sister-in-law at this moment. “For all the shit you’ve given that kid tonight, I ought to leave him a five hundred dollar tip,” he groused.
Lauren glared at him. “Well, there really is a sucker born every minute, isn’t there? Jules, do you see the guy anywhere? I need refills here. Pronto.”
As she raised her arm again to flag down a waiter – any waiter – Ben took hold of her wrist and lowered her arm.
“You don’t need any more booze tonight,” he told her in a quiet but firm voice. “I think we can all agree that you’ve had way too much already. Stop embarrassing your sister and Nathan and behave yourself.”
Ben wasn’t sure who was more shocked at what he’d just said – any of the three other people at the table or himself. But even as he spied the furious expression on Lauren’s face, he refused to back down and kept her wrist pinned to the table.
He’d never seen her this angry before, her green eyes glittering fiercely, and he was more than a little afraid that she was either going to spit at him or bend over and bite his hand. Instead, she employed a different dirty tactic and kicked him – hard – in the shin with the pointy toe of her ankle boot.
“Ow. Dammit,” he cursed, releasing her hand to rub his abused shin.
Lauren wasted no time in springing to her feet, grabbing her clutch bag as she did. “Screw you, Ben Rafferty,” she hissed. “You might be my boss at work but outside of the office I’m the only one who gets to boss me around. And screw that incompetent waiter, too. I’ll get my own drink. Better yet, I’ll get someone to buy me one.”
She flounced off angrily, not such a easy feat considering how much she’d had to drink. If he hadn’t been so pissed off at her right now, Ben might have actually laughed at the way she swayed a bit unsteadily in those sexy black lace ankle boots with their towering heel.
Julia sighed. “I’d better go after her. When she’s in a mood like this, there’s no telling what kind of trouble she can get into. I’m sorry, Ben. She’s never this out of control. I have no idea what’s bugging her tonight.”
“I think I do,” he told Julia. “I upset her earlier in the day, and coming here tonight was probably not the best move under the circumstances. I thought – well, that I would try to apologize, but I can see she’s clearly not in the mood to be reasonable.”
“I’m glad you came,” Julia told him earnestly. “Nathan and I have both enjoyed getting to know you a little. As for Lauren – well, she’s been off her game for months now, and I’ve been trying to figure out why. Oh, God! I’d better go rescue that guy she’s hitting on over at the bar. Excuse me.”
He watched with concern as Julia hurried over to the bar, where Lauren was rather drunkenly starting to drape herself around a good looking guy who seemed far too interested in her for Ben’s liking. He took a sip of the red wine Nathan had ordered with dinner, his grip on the fragile glass stem nearly hard enough to snap it in two.
Nathan was grinning at him, even as he shook his dark head in disbelief. “Dude, you might be the bravest person I’ve ever met,” he said, awestruck. “Nobody, and I mean nobody had ever told that girl she’s had too much to drink. Not even her dad, and believe me, my father-in-law can be a pretty intimidating guy when he wants to be.”
Ben’s mouth quirked up at one corner. “Yeah, so I’ve noticed. I’ve met him, you know. Last November. He came by the office to thank me for not sending Lauren on a trip to Brazil. He seems like a great guy.”
Nathan nodded enthusiastically. “The best. So is Natalie. I couldn’t have asked for better in-laws. They are the nicest, most down to earth people you’d ever want to meet.” He gave a little shudder as he reached for his own wine glass. “I was engaged once before, broke things off when I realized what a mistake I was making. Now, her parents would have been the in-laws from hell – the mother was a stuck-up witch while the father was the biggest pompous ass you’ve ever seen.”
“Hmm, sounds an awful lot like Elle’s parents,” lamented Ben. “I mean, both of them are always polite to me, I think that’s part of being British or something. But I’ve never felt that they approved of me, or think I’m good enough for Elle.”
“That would suck for sure,” agreed Nathan. “I guess I’m lucky that Julia’s family is so great. Even my pain in the ass sister-in-law isn’t quite as bad as she seems. Julia’s right – things have definitely been weird with Lauren these past few months. I know Julia and her parents are all worried about her.”
Ben frowned, realizing it was the second time today that Nathan had brought this particular subject up. “Any special reason?”
Nathan shrugged. “I think for Julia it’s more of a gut feeling. A “twin thing”, as she calls it. I mean, those two might seem as different as night and day, but they’re also two halves of the same whole. Julia picks up on vibes from Lauren and vice versa. But from what I hear Lauren has been spending more time than usual on her own. When she’s in California, she holes up in that cabin of hers most of the time, doesn’t even see her folks all that often. And she drives my mother-in-law nuts when she takes off for a day or two at a time on that crotch rocket of hers. Lauren thinks nothing of driving down the coast on her bike, and not saying a word to anyone about where she’s going. I understand Robert really lit into her a couple of weeks ago for worrying Natalie so much.”
Ben silently applauded Lauren’s father for his actions, and did his best to keep his own anger under control. As tough as Lauren might act, she’d only been driving that damned Ducati for a few years, and he could only imagine how recklessly she drove the powerful motorcycle.
“Do you think something at work is bothering her?” asked Ben, discreetly trying to discover if Lauren had dropped any hints to her family about possibly quitting her job.
“Probably not,” acknowledged Nathan. “I mean, she does love her job, is always talking about her most recent trip and showing us photos. Julia’s more or less convinced that Lauren’s got man problems, and that’s what set her off recently.”
“Is she seeing someone?” asked Ben casually, determined not to betray his interest in the subject.
“Nah. I mean, at least not that anyone knows about. Julia swears that Lauren has never brought a guy home even once to meet their parents. And that she never, ever, brings anyone to the cabin. That place is like her sacred space, you know? I’ve only been invited there twice, and both visits were brief ones. So who knows if Julia’s right or not. All I can say is that if Lauren does have a man in her life, the dude must either be a little crazy or else he’s some kind of superhero. He’d have to be one or the other – maybe a little of both – to have the guts to take her on.”
Ben fell silent after that as he mulled over everything he’d just learned. The facts that Lauren never introduced her men to her parents – while Ben had met both of them separately, though admittedly not as her boyfriend, and that she never invited anyone to the cabin – a place he’d spent the happiest ten days of his life – were both extremely interesting. But that knowledge wasn’t any help in figuring out what was bothering Lauren right now. Karl had seemed positive that Lauren wasn’t seeing anyone right now, and yet her twin sister – arguably the person closest to her – seemed to believe otherwise. As for himself, he didn’t know what to believe these days – about a whole lot of things, it seemed.
Nathan was reaching for the wine bottle when he uttered a low curse instead. “Aw, hell. Now she’s dragging Julia out to the dance floor. And that’s never a good thing.”
The trendy Peruvian restaurant in Greenwich Village also featured live music and dancing in the evenings, and it hadn’t taken long at all for the action to get started tonight. The smallish dance floor was packed with bodies writhing to the salsa band who was featured tonight. But all eyes seemed to be glued on the gorgeous, sexy twins who were putting on quite a show smack in the middle of the floor.
Julia seemed less than thrilled to be out there, her dance moves – not to mention her clothing – much more subdued than her sister’s. Lauren, on the other hand, was shimmying and shaking to the tropical beat with wild, uninhibited abandon, as if deliberately calling attention to herself.
Ben’s jaw clenched angrily as he watched her smile flirtatiously in response to the numerous cat calls and whistles she received. She might as well, he thought furiously, have the words “do me” stamped on her forehead, given the way she was dancing and what she had chosen to wear tonight.
She’d “cleaned up nicely”, as she had put it once, abandoning her usual jeans and T-shirts for a much more provocative outfit. She wore a black dress that seemed to expose more skin than it covered with its deeply slashed halter neckline, cut out side panels, and short, flared skirt. And with those damned lace ankle boots, Ben wondered how in the world she could dance so exuberantly without falling flat on her face – especially given the amount of alcohol she’d consumed tonight.
Nathan had a worried look on his face. “Lauren’s not a good influence on Julia,” he told Ben. “The few times they’ve gone out partying together Julia usually winds up with a hellish hangover the next day. And of course Lauren can never let me forget the time she tried to entice me into having a twin sandwich.”
Ben choked and sputtered on the sip of wine he’d just swallowed, reaching for his water glass. His eyes were watering as he croaked out, “A – what? That’s not really what it sounds like, is it?”
“’Fraid so,” Nathan muttered. “Though Julia swears up and down she never even considered doing something like that – whether with me or some other guy. Lauren was just trying to stir things up when she said that. But, damn her, she likes to forget that Julia is married now and shouldn’t be out there shaking all of her worldly goods in front of a bunch of horny guys. I’d better go and rescue my bride.”
“I’ll do it.” Ben stood and placed a hand on Nathan’s shoulder. “After all, you and Julia are here to celebrate, not play nursemaid to the Dancing Queen out there. Besides, considering the fact that she has a pre-dawn flight out of JFK in the morning, she might even thank me for dragging her out of here. I’ll grab a taxi, make sure she gets home okay.”
Nathan grinned. “Hey, now you’re really the bravest guy I’ve ever met. And it was good to meet you, Ben. I’m glad you decided to join us for dinner after all. I’m just sorry that Lauren seemed to go out of her way to ruin everything.”
“Forget it. Like I said, my presence here probably made it all ten times worse. She’s pissed off at me – for a lot of reasons – and when Lauren gets angry she usually winds up acting out like a naughty child. Nothing I can’t handle. And here.” He took out his wallet, extracted several bills, and placed them on the table. “I know you kept insisting that dinner was on you, but this is for the tip. God knows that poor waiter deserves it tonight.”
Nathan was chuckling as he rose to shake Ben’s hand. “Thanks, man. And I hope to see you again sometime. I’m not sure when we’ll be in New York again, though. Do you ever make it out to the West coast?”
It was on the tip of Ben’s tongue to confess that he had avoided traveling to California very intentionally since that fateful summer six years ago. “Not for a long time,” was all he said. “But it’s one of my favorite places in the whole world, so maybe one of these days.”
Ben cursed beneath his breath as he gingerly maneuvered his way through the crush of people on the dance floor until he reached his target. Lauren’s back was to him, her lithe body moving to the rhythm of the music, and she was more or less oblivious to everyone else around her. Ben caught Julia’s eye and jerked his head in the direction of their table. Wide-eyed, she merely nodded and began to walk away.
He placed both of his hands on Lauren’s bare shoulders, bending down to murmur in her ear, “Time to put away your dancing shoes for the night, Cinderella. You’ve got a very early day tomorrow, after all. And I doubt you want to get on the first of four flights with a nasty hangover.”
Lauren’s leanly muscled shoulders stiffened beneath his grip, and then she spun around to face him, her eyes spitting angrily. “Get lost,” she hissed. “Who the hell do you think you are anyway, Ben Rafferty? Nobody tells me when I’ve had too much to drink, or when it’s time to call it a night. Especially you!”
“Really?” He arched a brow at her in amusement as he took hold of her arm. “Because the way I see it, I’ve done both tonight. Come on, sweetheart, time to find your carriage and get you home.”
She tried in vain to wrest her arm out of his grasp, and swore in frustration when he continued to dodge her somewhat unsteady attempts to kick him. “Leave me alone,” she muttered sullenly. “How come you’re too goddamned busy to talk to me earlier today, and now all of a sudden you seem to have all this time on your hands?”
“Ah. So that’s what this little hissy fit you’ve been having all evening is about,” he observed. “Tell you what. If you want to talk to me now, I’m all ears. Except not here. Somewhere a little less noisy and way more private.”
“Forget it,” she spat. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Maybe not ever again. So, go on – leave me alone. And why are you here anyway? Shouldn’t you be at home with your precious Elle?”
“Elle’s out of town right now. And to answer your first question, I have no idea why I’m here,” he replied wearily. “In fact, I’ve been asking myself that same question all night. Now, come on. Time for you to leave, Lauren. You can either walk out of here on your own, or I swear I’ll throw you over my shoulder again.”
She gasped and gave him a little shove. “There is no way you’d dare to try that little stunt again,” she declared. “And no way I’d let you get away with it.”
Ben struggled valiantly to keep his slowly simmering temper under control. He had never known anyone – male or female – as infuriating as Lauren, and he half-seriously wished he had some rope on him at the moment so he could show her just how much he was willing to dare.
“I would dare,” he whispered against her ear. “And if my guess is correct, you’re wearing very, very little under that short skirt. Little enough that you’d give everyone in this place a very interesting peep show if I have to carry you out. And while you are many things, Lauren, I don’t believe an exhibitionist is one of them. So, come along now, okay?”
She stuck her tongue out at him, just like the six year old child she’d been behaving like all night, but otherwise didn’t protest when he took her by the arm and steered her outside. He bundled her into a taxi after she sullenly gave the driver her aunt’s address, and then he slid in beside her.
She stared out her window for almost five minutes, obviously pissed at him, before she finally mumbled, “You didn’t have to see me home, for God’s sake. I can take care of myself, you know.”
The impact of her dignified little protest was spoiled when she hiccupped – quite loudly – and Ben couldn’t help laughing despite the truly evil glare she directed his way.
“Well, apparently your sister and brother-in-law didn’t seem to share your opinion,” he informed her. “They’ve been worried about you, along with your parents.”
Lauren snorted. “Well, everyone needs to butt out and let me live my life,” she declared. “And that includes you – boss.”
“If you really mean that,” he replied gently, “then why did you come to my office this afternoon and want to talk?”
She shrugged. “Stupid idea. Call it an impulse, a bad one. And it’s all forgotten now, okay?”
Ben shook his head. “Not on your life. One way or the other you’re going to tell me exactly what you wanted to talk about. Will your aunt be at home when we arrive?”
“No. She’s busy making up for lost time with James this weekend over at his hotel. Guess she doesn’t want me to overhear their, uh, activities. Jeez, between her and my sister it’s a wonder I haven’t been warped for life. They just think they’re being quiet.”
Ben bit down on his bottom life, stifling a rather pathetic little groan as Lauren’s statement brought back memories of exactly how noisy she had been during sex. It was a good thing, he thought wryly, that the nearest neighbor at her place in Big Sur had been too far away to overhear anything.
By the time they arrived at her aunt’s apartment building, Lauren was almost dozing off, and he had to wrap an arm around her waist to help her inside the lobby. The security guard gave Lauren a friendly wave, and nodded at Ben as he half-dragged her to the elevator.
Once inside the elevator Lauren began to giggle, and Ben wondered just how drunk she was to be acting in such an un-Lauren like manner. He kept an arm looped around her shoulders to hold her upright, and at some point he felt her arms slip around his waist, her head drooping onto his shoulder. He tried in vain to ignore how good it felt – how right – to be holding her this way, even though his intentions were strictly honorable.
But those same intentions became a little bit tougher to stick to as Lauren drunkenly pressed one full breast against his arm. He was instantly hard, especially when she began to nuzzle her nose against the side of his neck, her lips brushing the skin, and his body temperature ratcheted up by several degrees. It had been so long, he thought with a silent groan, since he’d been this aroused, this needy for a woman. And sex had never been as good as it had been with Lauren, probably because what they’d shared had been so much more than sex. It had been –
“We’re here!” she announced in a silly, sing-song voice as the elevator doors slid open. “Home sweet East coast home. Follow me, Blue Eyes.”
She grabbed his hand and tugged him down a short, thickly carpeted hallway to a set of double doors. After she fumbled around in her little purse for several seconds, Ben took the bag from her with barely concealed impatience so that he could find the key himself. He shook his head in exasperation when he found it alongside another of Lauren’s switchblades. This one, at least, was much smaller and far less deadly looking than the military issue blade he knew she still took along on trips.
“You really felt a need to bring a knife along to dinner with your sister and brother-in-law?” he asked, deftly opening the doors to her aunt’s apartment. “Were you afraid the restaurant didn’t sharpen their cutlery on a regular basis and you’d need something to cut your meat with?”
“Hah, hah.” She snatched her bag from him as she tottered inside. Ben gave a quick glance around the living room, finding it to be a warm, welcoming space in spite of the overall grandeur of the décor. The initial impression the penthouse gave off was one of understated wealth and pleasing esthetics.
Lauren wobbled over to the built-in wet bar and began opening cabinets. “Want a drink?”
“No.” He walked over to the bar and shut the cabinet door authoritatively. “And neither do you. Unless it’s coffee or tea or something else that will sober you up a little”
“Tea!” she scoffed. “That’s for old ladies and British people. And I really need to get some sleep, as you pointed out. Thanks to cheap-o Nadine and her cut rate travel arrangements. So no caffeine. But I could use a little nightcap, just something to help me sleep.”
Ben shook his head and led her away from the bar. “Sweetheart, you look like you’re going to keel over any second now. One more drink and you’ll be comatose. How about a soda?”
Lauren grimaced and shook her head, one hand clutching her belly. “I’ll pass. I think that ceviche we ate isn’t agreeing with me. Maybe some bad scallops.”
“Why don’t you sit down then?” he suggested. “And take off those boots before you fall over.”
Instead of following his advice, she propped a booted foot on the arm of the sofa and smiled at him provocatively, the short, flirty skirt of her dress riding up high enough to expose the tanned, toned muscles of her thigh. “You don’t like my boots, Ben?” she purred in a throaty voice. “Weren’t you the one who told me I should wear a dress or a skirt more often? And I couldn’t very well wear sneakers with a dress like this.”
He gulped as she ran her hands enticingly over her breasts and ribcage before trailing a finger down her exposed cleavage.
“Lauren,” he admonished, willing his massive erection to subside but quickly discovering that such a feat was a lost cause. “Come on, knock it off. You know this is just the booze talking. And speaking of talking, no time like the present, sweetheart. What did you want to discuss earlier today?”
Lauren smiled, and to Ben the smile looked a bit sad. “Did you know that you’re the only person who’s ever called me sweetheart? Most guys say babe or baby or honey.”
He returned her smile. “And you’re the only woman I’ve ever called sweetheart. But you’re avoiding the subject, Lauren. What did you come to see me about today?”
She lowered her foot to the floor and began to walk towards him slowly, suddenly as serious as he had ever seen her. “I came to tell you,” she began hesitantly, “that I was finally ready.”
“Ready for what?” he asked, puzzled.
She was standing right in front of him now, her eyes half-shut as she whispered, “For you to explain. To tell me about Big Sur. I decided that I needed to know the truth, whether I liked what I would hear or not.”
Ben was startled, because of all the things he’d guessed she wanted to discuss, this had not been one of them. “And what exactly prompted this decision?”
Lauren shook her head. “That doesn’t matter anymore. Because I just decided that I don’t feel like talking right now.”
He sighed, realizing that in her present inebriated state talking probably wasn’t such a great idea anyway. “Okay. I’ll bite. Why don’t you feel like talking anymore?”
She gave a wicked little laugh just before she slid her arms up around his neck, pressing her curvy little body flush against his. “Because I feel like doing this instead,” she whispered, and then tugged his head down to meet hers.
The first brush of their lips against each other felt like a lightning strike, or a flame bursting to life. The kiss was wild, hungry, and definitely dirty, a tangle of tongues as they sought to devour the other’s mouth. He kissed her as though he was starved for the taste and feel and smell of her – because he was. He slid his hands into her thick, tousled curls, holding her head still as one kiss morphed into a second and a third, going on and on. At some point she took one of his hands and drew it to her breasts. He squeezed one full mound roughly, and then could only stare in spellbound lust as she deftly unfasted the halter top of her dress, letting the fabric drift to her waist and expose her gloriously bare tits.
“Christ,” he rasped, his hands cupping her reverently, his thumbs brushing over the erect nipples before bending down to suck one pale pink tip into his mouth.
Lauren’s hands clutched his head close, her breath escaping in short, staccato pants. “God, that’s so good,” she breathed. “It’s been so long, baby. I’ve missed this so much. Missed you so much.”
“Lauren.” Her name left his lips in a groan – or a prayer, he wasn’t sure which. He slid his hands down to her buttocks, holding her still as he rubbed his cock against the sweet, hot notch of her thighs. He was so hard, so starved for her, that it was right on the edge of being painful. All he could think about was tearing her underwear off, getting inside of her as quickly as possible, fucking her hard and fast until they were both screaming in release. And then really getting down to business after taking the edge off a little.
He had just slid his hand beneath her skirt, was barely an inch away from slipping his fingers inside the soaking wet crotch of her flimsy thong, when he felt her pushing against his chest.
“Don’t. Stop,” she pleaded raggedly. “Oh, God, Ben. You’ve got to stop now.”
Her almost desperate pleas finally penetrated his lust-addled brain and he let go of her reluctantly. “What the hell’s the matter with you?” he grunted, his body screaming for release and none too happy that he’d halted its progress towards that end.
Lauren clapped a hand over her mouth, shaking her head. “Uh, try not to take this personally but – oh, crap!”
She dashed into the kitchen, her heels clacking noisily on the wood floor. She didn’t even bother turning a light on as she rushed over to the sink, and was immediately, rather revoltingly, sick.
“You have got to be kidding,” he muttered darkly. “Talk about bad timing, huh?”
Telling himself – though he didn’t really mean it – that this was all for the best under the circumstances – those circumstances mainly involving his complicated relationship with Elle – Ben heaved a sigh of resignation and followed Lauren inside the spacious, well-equipped kitchen. As she continued to vomit into the sink, he simply held her long hair back until she gave one final shudder. He got her a glass of water and then dampened a dishcloth to wipe off her face.
Lauren was pale and shaky as she rinsed the sink out, and she looked ready to drop at his feet like a ragdoll.
“Sorry,” she croaked. “I blame that damned ceviche. Definitely some bad fish there.”
Ben smiled knowingly. “Yeah, it was the ceviche all right. And maybe a few too many pisco sours. As well as that last round of tequila shots. Ah, don’t forget the red wine.”
Lauren let out a groan and clamped a hand over her mouth again. “Okay, enough. Maybe I did have a little too much to drink tonight. But it was mostly the ceviche.”
“Whatever you say,” he agreed amiably. “Look, you’re obviously in no shape to talk about anything tonight. Not to mention that things got awfully out of control just now. Speaking of which.”
He tried to ignore how badly his balls ached as he clumsily retied the top of her dress, covering up her bare, tempting breasts. But he knew that it wouldn’t be nearly so easy to forget the sight and feel and taste of them.
“Time for you to get some sleep, Lauren,” he told her in his best no-nonsense voice. “After all, you’ve got a busy couple of days ahead of you and that’s even before you arrive in the islands. But you can be damned sure that the minute you’re back I’m finally going to have my say. And for once in your life you’re going to shut up and listen.”
He couldn’t resist pressing a quick kiss to her forehead, the sort of kiss one might give to a small, frightened child. And then he left while the few fragments that remained of his willpower were still intact.