~Savannah~

Have I been lying to myself for years? I mean, let’s put it all out there on the table. Or, in this case, my bamboo tray that slides over my bathtub. Sitting in a nice, warm bath is usually just the ticket to calm me down.

But nothing is calming me down tonight.

Ben left four hours ago and there is no chance that I’ll be sleeping tonight because my brain won’t shut the hell up. What am I supposed to do?

If overthink it until I’m sick to my stomach is the correct answer, well, I’m a success.

I did some yoga. I breathed deeply until I thought I was going to hyperventilate. I tried taking a walk but didn’t get far because I’m not a big fan of taking walks after dark.

Or taking walks in general.

The bath was my last-ditch effort, and it’s not going well so far.

Ben says he can’t just be friends with me. That he’s had feelings for me since we were kids. But he never said anything. Ever. And I definitely never let him know that I had a crush on him.

That would have been humiliating.

Yet, it’s still humiliating because according to my family, everyone has known but me.

What the hell am I supposed to do with this?

I would have married him in a heartbeat when I was in college. Ben has always been handsome.

Okay, not handsome. Hot as fuck. He’s hot as fuck. And only gets hotter with age, which seems unfair somehow.

What would my life have been like if I’d married Ben rather than Lance?

I immediately squash that thought. It’s not fair to me or Ben. And as horrible as it was, I can’t regret it because it shaped me into who I am now, and I really like her.

I fought like hell to be here.

Being Ben’s has always been a secret fantasy of mine, but I don’t know what to make of it actually coming true. Part of me screams YES! DO IT!

And the other part says this has disaster written all over it.

He hasn’t given me an ultimatum, he’s given me a choice. If I say yes, and Ben and I start to date, and I fall deeply in love with him, it will be catastrophic if and when it all falls apart. I’m not trying to be a cynic, I just have to be realistic because it’s not just the two of us at stake. But if I say no, that I want him to back away, and we only see each other at family gatherings, well that sounds like a level of hell I don’t want to experience.

Just the thought has my stomach rolling, my chest fluttering, and I’m about a millisecond away from having an honest to God anxiety attack.

“Well, there’s your answer, idiot.” I take a deep breath and reach for my phone. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do it now.

Before I lose my nerve. But it’s two in the morning, and he’s probably asleep.

The text is simple. Are you awake?

I set the phone down and sigh deeply. No going back now, the text is out there. And really, life is so damn short. Why shouldn’t we be together, if that’s what we want? We’re adults. If the relationship doesn’t work out, we can still be friends after.

Probably.

I get out of the bath, the water sliding down my naked body and I remember the way Ben touched me earlier in the day. Gently, like I’m something important. I wonder how he would touch me in bed.

Holy shit, I’m going to have sex with Ben.

I stare at myself in the mirror and then giggle, holding the towel over my mouth. My eyes travel down my body. I’m thin. Not as thin as I was right after the incident, but still on the thin side. The Krav Maga has given my muscles definition, and my boobs have always been a decent size.

On the down side, I have little bit of a belly that I’ve never been able to get rid of, no matter how many damn sit ups I do.

I shrug and finish drying off.

Who cares if I have a bit of fat on my belly? If Ben is a man worth being with, he won’t care.

And he won’t sit in a chair, eating a cupcake, while he makes me do dozens of sit ups.

We’re going to make you thin yet, sweetie. Keep going. I didn’t say you could stop. I’ll kick you in the cunt if you fucking stop again.

I shake the memory off, step into fresh clothes, and head to the kitchen. I have left over scones that I bought myself the other day, and I deliberately eat one, at two-thirty in the morning.

Fuck you, asshole.

I frown down at my phone. He hasn’t replied. Granted, I sent the text two minutes ago. He’s probably asleep, but now that I’ve made up my mind, I want to talk to him right now.

I’ve discovered I’m not a very patient woman these days.

After five more minutes of him still not responding, I decide to just go to his house. I can’t imagine that he’d be mad at me for waking him up, especially not with this news.

I can’t wait to see the smile on his face.

I grab my keys and bag and head out into the night. It’s been raining, so the streets are darker than normal, despite the streetlights. I hate it when it’s rained like this. It makes it harder to see.

Thankfully, Ben lives close to me, and I arrive in no time. I only passed a couple of other vehicles on my way.

I park and climb the stairs to the porch of his old home in the Garden District.

There’s no answer when I ring the bell.

I wait and ring it again twice, but there’s still no movement inside.

“Jesus, does he sleep like the fucking dead?” I ask aloud and walk down to the sidewalk to frown up at the windows on the second floor. I don’t know which window is his, since I have never been invited upstairs in his house, so I can’t throw pebbles up to wake him.

Besides, with my luck, I would just break the window, and we don’t want that. It’s not terribly romantic.

I shrug and return to my car. I guess I’ll go home and wait for him to wake up. It was silly to just show up here anyway. And this gives me time to really think about what I’m going to say. Because although I’ve made up my mind that I want to see where a romantic relationship between us will go, I also need to make it clear to him that the most important thing is the family.

Not his sexy arms, or the gentle way he touches me, or the way my heart about flutters out of my chest when I see him.

I turn the corner to my house and frown when I see his car in my driveway.

“What the—?”

I pull in, cut the engine, and sit for a moment, watching Ben. He’s sitting on the stairs, his arms braced on his knees, and he’s watching me with those bright blue eyes.

I get out of the car and walk toward him.

“Why are you out driving in the middle of the night?” he asks.

“I was at your house,” I reply and his lips twitch. “But you weren’t home.”

“We had the same idea,” he says and stands, holding his hand out for mine so he can guide me up the stairs. I’m perfectly capable of walking up the stairs on my own, but I won’t ever turn down the opportunity to hold Ben’s hand.

He has big hands, but when they touch me, they’re the most warm and gentle hands I’ve ever known

“What was that thought?” he asks.

“I like your hands.” I shrug and unlock my door and then lead him inside.

“Van—” he begins, but I turn and wrap my arms around him, hugging him close. “Hey.”

“I’m fine,” I mutter as he closes the door behind him and loops his strong arms around me, holding me close. “I just needed this.”

“It’s yours,” he whispers and kisses the top of my head.

“Did you get my text?” I ask. He grips my shoulders and pushes me back, a frown on his face.

“No.”

“Oh. I thought maybe that’s why you were here.”

He shakes his head. “I left my phone at home. I didn’t hear it go off.”

“Then why are you here?”

He licks his lips and slides his hands down my arms to link his fingers with mine. “I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I know that I said earlier that this is your choice, and it is, but I couldn’t stay away tonight. I’m terrified that you’ll tell me you can’t do this, and if that’s what you want, I’ll respect your decision. But I needed just one more look at your beautiful face while there’s still hope.”

My God, how could I have ever considered saying no? His face is ashen. His voice is raw with vulnerability.

He’s stripped himself bare for me, regardless of the consequences, and I want with all of my heart to soothe him.

I step to him and cup his face with my hands. His cheeks are covered with stubble, and his skin is warm.

He reaches up to brush a tear from my cheek. I hadn’t noticed that I was crying.

“What did you say in your text?” he whispers.

“I just asked if you were awake.”

“I am.”

I smile and let my hands slide down to his chest.

“I wanted to see you.”

He tips my chin up so I’m looking him in the face.

“Why?”

“Because it’s bad form to tell a man in a text that you don’t want to be just friends with him.”

He inhales sharply and his hands tighten on mine.

“Go on.”

“I’ve always had a crush on you, Ben. Or at least, that’s what it was when I was young. You’re a sight to behold.”

He snorts, but I keep going.

“But more than that, you’re so…good. You’re good, Ben. You’ve always looked out for me, and made me feel safe.”

He frowns, but I keep going, not letting him speak.

“What happened before isn’t your fault. I know you beat yourself up about it, just like my brothers do, but it wasn’t any of you that caused it. It wasn’t my fault either. It was all his fault, and he’s being punished for it, Ben. I’m free, and I’m safe.

“You have always been a safe haven for me. So to say that I want to be just acquaintances with you, that I could ever be content with that, is just bullshit. I’ve felt a connection with you for as long as I can remember, and to hear that it’s reciprocated is just—” I shrug because I simply don’t have a word big enough to explain it.

“Is this a long way of telling me that you want me?” Ben asks, making me laugh.

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

“Thank Christ.” He pulls me to him again and hugs me so tightly, I don’t know where I end and he begins. Finally, he kisses me sweetly, longingly, and all I can do is hold on tightly as he explores every inch of my mouth. When he pulls away, we’re both panting, and I would strip him naked right now, but that’s not what this moment calls for.

And I’m not convinced that I’m ready for that, anyway.

“Let’s sit,” Ben says and leads me to the couch. I curl up next to him, leaning my head on his shoulder. He links his fingers with mine and kisses my forehead.

“I have to say something else,” I begin. “Ben, if this doesn’t work out, it can’t change our family dynamic.”

“Agreed.”

“It’s too important.”

“I know.”

“My brothers would be devastated if they lost you.”

“Hey, I just agreed with you.”

I sigh. “I know. I just… it’s important to me.”

“To me too,” he replies and wraps his arms around me, tugging me into his lap. “You look so tired.”

“I don’t sleep much,” I reply with a yawn. Now that we’ve had our chat, and he’s here, all I want to do is sleep.

“Drift off,” he says. “I’m right here.”

“We could go upstairs.”

“No, we can’t.” He kisses my temple. “I don’t trust myself in a bed with you.”

I pry my eyes open. “That wouldn’t be horrible.”

“It better not be horrible,” he says with a chuckle. “But we’re not there yet.”

“Almost,” I say. “I’ve had to keep my hands off of you for a very long time.”

“Go to sleep,” he whispers in my ear. He’s playing with my hair, and between that, his warmth under me, and his strong arms around me, I can’t resist. I let sleep fall over me.

***

“Do you need anything before I leave?” Becky, my assistant, asks at the end of the workday.

“No, I think I’m good to go. Thank you.”

“Don’t spend the night here,” she says and narrows her eyes on me. “I’ll know if you do.”

“I always forget who the boss is in this relationship,” I reply with a laugh.

“It’s mutual,” she says.

“I came in late today. I need to stay late to catch up.”

She nods and backs out of the doorway with a wave and I stretch my neck before returning to my computer.

About an hour later, there’s a noise just outside my door.

“Hello?” I call out just as a man walks into my office, a huge bouquet of tulips hiding his face.

But I’d know Ben’s legs anywhere.

“Delivery,” he says and then looks around the side of the bright pink blooms and flashes a smile at me.

“You’re the best looking flower delivery man I’ve ever seen.”

He smirks and sets the flowers on my desk.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Are you about done here?”

“Almost,” I reply with a sigh. “Someone let me sleep late this morning.”

“I wasn’t even there,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Exactly. And my alarm wasn’t set, so I slept until nine, and I don’t remember the last time I slept that late.”

“You needed it.”

“I was late to work.”

“You own the business, Van. I hardly think anyone is going to write you up for being an hour later than normal.”

“I don’t know, Becky looked like she’d thought about it.” I laugh and stand, stretching my back and arms, then lean over to smell the flowers. “I love tulips.”

“I know.”

“You look mighty smug right now, Mr. Preston.”

“I’m feeling mighty smug, Ms. Boudreaux,” he replies and walks behind my desk to kiss the hell out of me.

Jesus, the man’s lips should come with a warning label.

May cause light-headedness and a loss of control.

“I have plans for us tonight,” he says.

“You do?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I tilt my head. “I’m working.”

“It’s after work hours.”

“But I’m catching up from missing an hour this morning.”

“It’s two hours past working hours. You’ve made up the time. Unless you don’t want to see what I’ve planned, and trust me when I say, you want to see it.”

“Does it involve food?”

I’m suddenly starving.

“Oh yeah.”

“I’m in.”

He laughs as I shut my computer down and gather my things. He takes my handbag from me and smirks when I glance up at him in surprise.

“I don’t mind carrying my own handbag.”

“There’s no need for you to carry it.”

“You’re either very chivalrous, or you’re a control freak.”

His face changes, and I immediately regret my choice of words.

“I didn’t mean it like that. At all.”

“I know. I’m not trying to control you, I’m just carrying your bag. I plan to do lots of nice things for you, Savannah. And that’s all it is.”

“Thank you.” We step into the elevator and when the doors close, I kiss his bicep. “Really. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Is this our first official date?” I ask, getting excited all over again.

“It is,” he says. “I’ve waited fifteen years to take you out on a date, so I might have gone a little overboard with this.”

I raise a brow and suddenly can’t wait to see what he has up his sleeve.

“You do know that you’re incredibly sweet, right?”

“With you, that seems to be true. But you can’t tell your brothers because they think I’m badass, and if this gets out, I’ll have to kick their asses extra hard in the gym.”

I laugh and follow him out of the elevator toward his car.

“Thanks for texting me the name and number of your tattoo guy,” I say once we’re settled in the car. “Is his given name really Buck?”

“I don’t know; he’s a man of few words, but he does a great job with ink.”

“That’s all that matters, I guess.”

“What are you going to have him do?”

I bite my lip, not sure if I want to share that yet. “You’ll see it when it’s done.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Yep, I’m going in on Saturday morning.”

He glances over at me in surprise.

“What?”

“Buck usually closes on Saturdays.”

“He said he’d fit me in.” I shrug. “I might have offered to pay double.”

Ben laughs and nods. “That would do it.”

Before long, he parks in front of a cooking school.

“Are they running a special tonight?” I ask.

“You’ll see.”

He leads me inside and to a kitchen where a woman tastes something from a pot. She’s in a white jacket and a tall white hat.

“Hello,” she says with a kind smile. “You must be Ben.”

He nods. “And this is Savannah. Van, this is Chef Baker.”

“Hello.” I nod and smile inside when Ben takes my hand firmly in his.

“Well, you are my only students this evening,” Chef says with a smile. “Welcome.”

“Students?”

“That’s right,” Ben says. “We’re going to learn to cook a meal together.”

I blink at him for a moment and look around at the industrial kitchen. It’s spotless, full of stainless steel, and ingredients are already waiting for us on the countertop.

“Great. What are we making?”

“BBQ shrimp, grits, and bananas Foster,” Chef replies. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“I’m so hungry.”

I glance up at Ben, who’s been watching me intently.

So hungry. And not just for food.