11
Allow your childe the freedom to develop his or her problem-solving skills. But keep the Council’s “emergency disposal and cleanup” number handy, just in case.
—The Accidental Sire: How to Raise an Unplanned Vampire
Somehow Ben being left without pants or dignity in front of Gabriel wrung quite a bit of forgiveness out of my battered little heart. I felt like we were on even playing ground after that particular dinner, which involved the least amount of eye contact I’d seen out of either man since we’d moved in.
So when I found the little yellow Post-it on my desk asking me to meet Ben on the library subfloor, my response was to smile. I supposed that after he’d sacrificed his honor on the altar of semipublic nudity, he deserved some sort of rendezvous, even if it was on the office grounds.
I’d enjoyed the anticipation and the teasing until this point, but I was also ready for a little bit of fun. We’d been working hard for the Council. We’d kept our grades up. We’d been nice little vampires. Now it was time to do something a little naughty.
Fortunately, I’d worn some of my nicer panties today, black and purple lace, and a bra that more or less matched. I told Jane I would be taking my coffee break and made for the elevator. I pressed the button for the library floor and surreptitiously checked my breath. More than acceptable, thanks to the little bottle of Fang-Brite Mouthwash I kept in my desk drawer.
The doors opened to reveal a space with dark wood paneling and row upon row of oak bookshelves. I suspected that Jane had redecorated this floor because she couldn’t stand the idea of a bare, industrial space being called a library. She took all things book-related pretty seriously.
I scanned the rows of shelves but didn’t spot Ben anywhere. What should I do if I ended up waiting for him and some other vampire found me loitering on a floor where I really didn’t have an excuse to be? I heard the elevator ding and ducked behind the nearest shelf. I watched through the empty shelf space as Ben emerged from the elevator. He looked confused, staring at a yellow Post-it as if it contained cheat codes for how to never get caught in a communal area with your pants around your ankles by your foster sire.
I stepped out into the open and smiled. “Really? A Post-it on my desk? Are you morally opposed to the traceability of instant messages or trying to be ironic?”
Ben frowned and held up his own little yellow square. “You asked me to meet you here.”
“No, I didn’t. You asked me to meet you.”
Just then, Ben’s face shifted into an expression of horror. In his dark pupils, I could see the reflection of a white-gloved hand reaching over my shoulder. Before he could say anything, Dr. Hudson appeared behind Ben, latex gloves in place as he jabbed a needle into Ben’s neck. I opened my mouth to protest but felt a sharp sting in my own neck. I reached out to Ben, clutching at his arms as a wave of fatigue dragged me to my knees. Ben dropped to the floor with me, his head sagging against my shoulder.
“Just relax,” Dr. Hudson told us. “Let the drugs do their work, and this will be much more pleasant for you both.”
“I’m gonna rip your head off,” I told him. “And jam it up your own butt.”
“It will be fascinating to watch you try,” Dr. Hudson assured me as my eyelids drooped. The world tilted and faded to black, and I felt nothing.
I was standing with my face propped against a metal grate.
Why was my face propped against a metal grate?
I blinked the gummy remnants of makeup from my eyes and shook my still-fuzzy head. I coughed, rolling my sore shoulders against freezing, wet metal. Where the hell— I was outside? Why was I outside? And why was I asleep at night?
I heard a light snort beside me. Ben was standing with me. We were side by side in an upright metal mesh box, just wide enough for us to stand but too shallow for us to sit down. It was like a double coffin, which was not a comforting thought.
We’d been propped up in a huge, open tobacco field. The sky was lightening to purple with orange streaks. The plants were in full leaf, almost ready to be harvested, bouncing gently in the predawn breeze. And the air smelled pleasantly of smoke and earth.
If I weren’t certain that the rising sun was about to make me burst into flames, it would be a nice, calming scene, like something out of a Thomas Kinkade painting.
How did we get here? And who the hell put us in this box? Why did I keep waking up in weird places? Why was my head so fuzzy? Maybe it was time to reevaluate my life choices.
“Ben?” I tapped my hand against his. “Ben, wake up.”
“Ten more minutes, Mom,” he grumbled, wiping his hand over his face.
I sighed and stuck my finger in his ear, yanking on the lobe. He grumbled and tried to roll but woke when he found that he was standing, and, well, he was in a freaking metal box.
“What the hell?” he exclaimed.
“We’re in a box,” I told him.
“I can see that,” he said, glancing around. “Why are we in a box?”
We both struggled as much as we could in the confined space, banging our shoulders against the walls and rattling the door. Even with both of us throwing our weight around, the box remained upright.
“I honestly don’t know. I’m just glad it’s not made of silver,” I huffed. “This isn’t your ‘clever’ plan for finding a way for us to spend time away from River Oaks together, is it? Because this is not what I meant.”
“No,” he told me. “Phone. Do you have your phone? We could call for help.”
I searched my pockets and looked down at the empty cage around my feet. “Nope. I’m getting the feeling we’re not supposed to be able to call for help.”
“Maybe this is some sort of training exercise from Jane?” Ben said. “Like survival training, when they drop soldiers on the top of a mountain and expect them to get home safe?”
“I don’t think Jane would lock you up in a Saw murder box just to teach you life skills. The woman made you chocolate breakfast blood yesterday with a little chocolate syrup smiley face. That’s the vampire equivalent of cutting the crusts off your PB and J.”
“She likes you, too, you know,” Ben insisted. “You just don’t let her get close enough to make those little gestures.”
“Not the time, Ben.” I grunted, pushing at the door. Even with my superstrength, I couldn’t make it budge. I craned my neck to get a look at the latch. It was sealed with a padlock.
“Maybe we screwed up paperwork for the Council or something?”
“That seems extreme, even for the Council,” Ben said. “Besides, what are the odds we both screwed up paperwork that badly? You’re actually pretty good with the paperwork, from what I hear.”
“Good point,” I said through gritted teeth as I unleashed the full force of my biceps on the door. And suddenly, I remembered standing outside the elevator with Ben. The flash of movement behind him. A needle and the sting in my neck.
“Dr. Hudson,” I growled. “He lured us to the library and injected us. We were betrayed by Post-its.”
Ben groaned, smacking his forehead against the cage. “I told you. Only trust instant messages.”
“Yeah, yeah. Also, have you noticed that the sun is coming up?” I said, nodding at the horizon. “And we’re in a box that offers no sun protection.”
“I did notice that.”
I wriggled my hips so I could work my feet up on the door. I braced my back against the wall of the box and pushed. The metal groaned and gave a bit but definitely not enough for either of us to squeeze out.
“The padlock,” I said, nodding to the metal loop that was keeping the door pinned to the cage. “Think we can break it?”
“It’s a Master Lock,” he muttered as he propped his own butt against the back wall. “Who seals up a death trap with an unbreakable lock? That’s just a douchey thing to do.”
We put our feet against the door, extended our legs, and pushed as hard as we could. There was a loud groaning noise as the door buckled. Breathing hard—out of habit, really, and not need—we dropped our feet to the ground. I shoved at the door, but the latch and the lock were still pretty much intact. Maybe it was a special supernatural-strength Master Lock?
“I’m guessing Dr. Hudson was mad about not being able to complete his ‘research’ on us. Remember, Jane busted in before he could expose us to UV rays? Maybe this is his way of finding out once and for all how we react to sunlight,” I said.
“I am going to find that man. And then I’m going to shove a stake up his—”
Grunting, I pushed with my feet again. “I got it, I got it. More pushing, less anatomical threats.”
In the distance, the purple of the sky was giving way to orange, and I could feel the warmth of the sun coming over the horizon. It wasn’t unpleasant, really. And sort of a refreshing change of pace from the constant nighttime cycle we’d been through over the last few months. Though the fact that I almost welcomed the sunrise was a little concerning, in terms of my frame of mind.
“One more time,” I told Ben.
He nodded, and we braced our feet against the door. I linked my fingers with his, as if I could gather some extra vampire mojo just by touching him, and then we pushed with all of the strength in our legs. The door buckled, and the box frame twisted, giving us enough room to slide out. Ben gently pushed me through the opening, cupping his hand over my head so I didn’t smack it against the frame.
When he was out, too, I turned and saw that the padlock was still intact. Goddamn Master Locks. Growling, Ben kicked at the cage. It didn’t budge. I brushed the dirt from around the bottom of the cage and saw that posts on each corner had been buried to stabilize it. And the stamp on the bottom bar of the cage read “Titanium alloy—Made in the USA.” Dr. Hudson had put quite a bit of planning into this crazy vampire trap.
“We’ve got maybe five minutes before sunrise, and we’re in possibly the largest tree-free space in western Kentucky. These tobacco leaves are nice but not wide enough to shade us all day as we lie here unconscious. And on fire.”
“Fair enough,” Ben said. He grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the distant tree line. It was only a mile or two away but seemed to be moving farther from us with every step. There was something wrong with my legs. I couldn’t move fast enough. And the more the sun peeked over the horizon, the slower I moved. It was that same moving-through-Jell-O sensation I’d experienced my first morning at Jane’s house. And add to that, we’d just busted our way out of a metal death box, so our muscles were tired.
“What’s wrong with my legs?” Ben moaned. “I feel so weak and tired. I feel like my dad after Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Fight it,” I told him, dragging him along. The sun was coming up. The sky was a beautiful coral, and I could feel the beginnings of warmth on my face. I couldn’t help but think that if I had to die, at least I would see those colors, I would feel that warmth, and I wasn’t alone. Ben’s fingers were laced through mine, and it felt right to be linked to him in this way when it could all be gone in a few moments.
We skidded to a stop, still too far from the trees to dive to safety. The top curve of the sun was visible, a beautiful, glowing, golden orb peeking over the edge of the world. It was like standing on a cliff, waiting to fall off, knowing this would be my last moment alive.
Ben yanked me close, cupping my face in his hands, and crushed his mouth to mine. I sobbed into his kiss, holding him tightly against me. I threaded my fingers through his hair, trying to memorize the silky sensation against my skin. If I was going to die, this was the last thing I wanted to feel. Ben’s arms around me, anchoring me to him.
That warm light washed over my face, and I braced myself for the pain.
Nothing.
The eyes I’d squeezed shut slowly opened. And Ben was standing in front of me, whole and perfect.
“Why are we not on fire?” I asked him.
Ben shook his head, but before he could answer, his eyes rolled back, and he passed out. He landed in the dirt with a thud, sprawling over a couple of crushed tobacco plants.
“Huh,” I mumbled, before toppling over and landing facedown on his chest.
If this was death—real, final death—it wasn’t so bad. It was dark and cool, and I could smell freshly mown grass and Ben’s spicy cologne.
I opened my eyes to see an expanse of stars above me, brilliant little pinpricks of light against velvety blue. I was tucked into Ben’s side, my face buried against his chest. His hands were curving around my ass, squeezing lightly, which led me to believe that he was OK. Surely he wouldn’t devote the energy to sleep-groping unless he was a hundred percent.
Probably.
I sat up slowly and looked around. We were still in the tobacco field, which was good . . . right? No one had shown up while we were sleeping to move us to the next level of the Saw killer trap. But we were still in the tobacco field, which meant that Jane didn’t know where we were. That she’d gone to bed at dawn not knowing whether we were safe. And it occurred to me that the idea of causing Jane that sort of worry hurt me.
I would think about what that meant at another time, when I wasn’t pondering how the hell I was going to trek across Half-Moon Hollow to get to Jane’s house. I leaned over Ben, who was still pretty much asleep, and kissed his mouth. He slowly came to life underneath me, moving his hands over my back and moaning softly into my mouth. I nipped his top lip, dragging my teeth across the flesh and sliding my tongue against his.
“We need to get moving,” I told him.
His eyes fluttered open, and he started, like he was still caught in the memory of running from the rising sun. He sat up so quickly I had to roll aside to keep from being head-butted. He covered my body with his and whipped his head around. “What? Why aren’t we little piles of ash?”
“Why are you questioning it? Let’s just be grateful that we’re not little piles of ash,” I teased him. “So we’re not exactly sunproof. We can’t function in sunlight, but we don’t burn. Good for us!”
“It’s kind of like a time-specific narcolepsy,” Ben offered.
“Exactly. And I think we need to get moving before Dr. Hudson and his evil science squad show up to see the results of their experiment.”
“Do we have to leave right now?” he asked, sliding his hands down the cradle of my hips. “We didn’t die. We’re away from the house. This is the quietest, most private place we’ve found in weeks.”
I laughed as Ben bent his head to kiss me. “I’m not going to have sex with you in a tobacco field. That is sad.”
“It’s not exactly the romantic location I had in mind, but . . .” He paused to kiss me again, planting his hand in the dirt above my shoulder so he could arch his hips against mine. Our tongues tangled, all lazy and soft, while his free hand skimmed over my breasts, sliding my shirt ever so slightly up over my belly. I could feel him, hard, between my legs. And we’d been waiting for so long, and I wanted him so much. And if he stopped this time, I might have to test our vulnerability to stakes myself.
OK, fine, I was going to have sex in a tobacco field. It was still less weird than that time I’d made use of a storage closet with Brandon Ross at the haunted house at my high school’s fall carnival. And this time I wouldn’t have anxieties about getting pregnant to the tune of Monster Mash.
Oh, my God, brain, please stop and focus on the kissing.
During my disturbing mental sidetrack, Ben had wriggled my shirt off. His mouth was cool and wet against my neck, and his tongue was doing wondrous little flicks against my jugular. I sighed, dragging my fingers through his hair and pulling at it to keep him there. His hand wandered up to my hips and dragged down my zipper, tracing over a seam that was growing wetter by the second. He applied just a little bit of pressure with his thumb, and I was bowing up off the ground, moaning.
Between those tight little circles and the long, drugging kisses, my orgasm practically sneaked up on me, going from a pleasant throb between my thighs to dropping over the edge, plunging headlong into endless, tingly space in no time at all. It felt different as a vampire. Every sense was heightened. Every sensation was stronger. And I basically ripped Ben’s pants open as I held on to him and rode out the waves of release.
The button popped off and hit me in the eye, and I didn’t even care. Because I got a look at what had been lurking in Ben’s pants and decided that while Gigi might have ended up with a gorgeous Russian vampire . . . she was an idiot.
But I wasn’t about to bring up Ben’s pretty ex-girlfriend/almost-fiancée right now, because talk about a mood killer.
But honestly, she was an idiot.
What was Ben doing with his fingers now?
I threw a leg over his hips and crouched above him, wrapping my hand around him and dragging my fist up and down. He made this great whimpering noise, clutching at my thighs. His fingernails scraped lightly at my hips, snagging my underwear. As I rubbed my thumb over a particularly sensitive spot, he yanked, and the elastic snapped. The shreds of my underwear fluttered to the dirt.
And while I liked that pair a lot, I couldn’t complain, as he let me guide him inside me, full and thick and . . . warm. It had been so long since I’d felt warm I almost didn’t recognize it. But Ben was warm to me, and I bent to kiss him, to slide my tongue along his lips as he moved inside me. He wrapped his arms around me, pinning me to his chest. I couldn’t seem to get close enough. Nothing seemed like enough. It didn’t satisfy this need thrumming through my whole body.
I could feel my fangs drop, scraping against my bottom lip. I dragged them gently across Ben’s throat, making his hips stutter and his head drop back. He moaned, and his own fangs slid out. He planted his feet in the dirt and rose to meet my thrusts as I traced the line of his jugular with my sharp little double canines and bit down. His hands clutched at my back with crushing force, and I felt his fangs sink into my neck. I expected pain, but instead I felt that delicious coil of pressure between my legs spike.
His blood filled my mouth, cool and sweet and savory all at once. It was every fantastic flavor I’d ever tasted, and it was mine. The more I drew into my mouth, the more Ben drank, and this heavy cord of sensation seemed to drag through me.
This orgasm didn’t catch me off guard. I could feel it building from the tips of my toes, tightening my thighs, making my nipples draw into hard points against his chest. He took one last long drink at my neck, and I yelled, feeling every cell inside me expand and contract in one rippling wave.
Ben shouted nonsense against my neck, slumping to the ground underneath me. I laughed, melting on top of him in a boneless heap.
I wasn’t moving.
For a year.
Eventually, Ben persuaded me that my yearlong-nap plan wasn’t valid, because Dr. Hudson was eventually going to show up. And given his tendency toward neck injections, we didn’t want to be around when that happened.
After shrugging into our clothes (using my hair clip to make an emergency button for Ben’s damaged pants), we stumbled home, coming up with increasingly elaborate plans to hurt Dr. Hudson as we traipsed through the woods. Our best plans involved a jar of honey, a grizzly bear, a rubber duck, and a pair of gardening shears. The walk seemed to take longer with the soreness between my legs, but it was kind of pleasant spending this time with Ben. I was used to boys sliding out of my bed before the sweat dried and promising to text me, which they never did. I’d never had a guy walk me home, his fingers wrapped in mine as we hopped over fallen trees and little creeks.
After we agreed on the honey-bear-duck-shears plan, we talked, just talked, about nothing related to the Council or school or Jane. We didn’t talk about my parents or his, our pasts. We just talked about movies we liked, foods we used to enjoy, which professors we’d loved and which ones we’d created accounts on Rate My Professors just so we could warn people about them. It was nice having the sort of conversation we might have had if we’d stayed human, like a glimpse of an alternate universe where we were just two normal college kids, not the next generation of neovampires who might or might not make it to see the next year, depending on whether Dr. Hudson managed to get the drop on us.
We ran the final mile to River Oaks, as fast as our blood-deprived bodies would allow. I was going to drink a gallon of Faux Type O when we finally got inside. Unfortunately, my plans for a Thanksgiving-style throwdown were interrupted by Jane sweeping across the lawn at top speed and clotheslining both of us into a hug—a hug that ended with the three of us rolling into a sort of Twister people-ball sprawling across the grass.
“Someone’s elbow is lodged in my left boob,” I grumbled. “Ben, is that you?”
“Sadly, no.” Ben’s voice was muffled, because he was facedown in the grass.
“Jane, please move your elbow,” I muttered as we untangled ourselves and sat up, but Jane would not be distracted by my chest pain.
“Don’t ever do that to me again!” she yelled, throwing her arms around us and, frankly, squashing us to her in a damned unreasonable fashion. “Where have you been?”
“Sleeping in an open field,” Ben said sheepishly. He glanced at me. “That sounded less lame in my head.”
“But hey, turns out we don’t burst into flames in the sun, so no harm done,” I added brightly.
Jane spluttered. “You—what—why? What would possess you to do such a thing? And what was your plan if you did happen to burst into flames like every other vampire in existence? Did you think about how it would have affected those of us who live with you and are responsible for you, if something had happened to you? People who care about you? And oh, my God, you’re making me sound like my mother, which is probably the most unforgivable part of all!”
Jane held up both of her hands and took three very deep breaths through her nose. Over her shoulder, I saw Gabriel and Dick come out the front door of River Oaks to watch the proceedings.
“OK, back up,” Jane said. “I’m trying to remain calm, even though I have spent the last sixteen hours or so absolutely terrified for you and worried sick.”
“Wouldn’t you have to be calm in the first place to remain—”
Jane shot me a look that made me shut my mouth immediately.
“So please explain to me how you ended up ‘sleeping in an open field’ instead of, say, calling your foster sire and letting her know that you needed help getting home?” Jane asked.
I sighed. “Dr. Hudson lured us to a secluded floor of the office with misappropriated Post-its. He injected us with what I suspect to be vampire-strength horse tranquilizers and locked us in a wire mesh box out in the middle of a tobacco field. We think it was an experiment to test how sunproof we are, since he didn’t get to complete his initial tests. Also, we’re hoping that it was an experiment and not Dr. Hudson being a raging sociopath.”
Jane’s face drained of what little color it had. “He did what?”
“It’s true,” I said. “I saw him sneak up behind Ben and inject him, right before I went down.”
“Turns out that when the sun comes up, we just sort of drop wherever we are, even if we’re fully exposed. I mean, we’re unconscious, and I imagine that if someone wanted to kill us, they could. But still, we don’t burst into flames, which is fun.” Ben jerked his shoulders.
“Yaaaay for us,” I cheered wanly.
“He locked you in a box and left you for dead?” Jane cried, her eyes bright with unshed tears and hot, seething anger. She threw her arms around us again, squeezing us tightly together. “I’m going to—I can’t think things violent enough to meet my need for bloody vengeance, but I’ll call Ophelia and get some ideas from her.”
And then she launched into a very long, profane rant that eventually dissolved into angry tears.
“Can we just focus on the fact that we found another cool thing that we can do?” I asked.
“No!” Jane sobbed, tucking her face into my neck. “I couldn’t find you. I passed out for the day, not knowing where you were or whether you were safe. I didn’t know if I would ever see you again! I didn’t— You can’t do that to me again, OK?”
I put my arms around Jane and patted her awkwardly. “OK.”
Ben gave me a little “I told you so” smirk, nodding toward our foster sire. I rolled my eyes and continued patting Jane’s back. She sniffed and wiped at her cheeks.
Her voice went from weepy to steely in a matter of seconds. “Listen to me, both of you. You are not to speak to Dr. Hudson again. If you see him, come get me or an undead emergency response team. If you can’t get away from him, keep him monologuing. Evil smart guys love to talk about their brilliance. That will give me time to get to you. With a UERT. I cannot emphasize the UERT part enough. Understood?”
“What’s going to happen to him?”
“He is going be fired and disciplined. If he approaches you, he’s doing so at his own peril.” Jane pushed to her feet and took out her cell phone. She dialed angrily, which cracked the screen of her phone.
“Which is going to hurt him more, being fired or being disciplined?” I asked as she stomped toward the house.
“Disciplined,” she growled.
Ben pulled me to my feet, and I finally grasped the sheer number of cars that were parked out in front of Jane’s house—Iris’s bright yellow Dorkmobile, Miranda’s black SUV, Jolene’s minivan, Nola’s sensible sedan. A big truck with a “Clemson Construction” logo on the door rounded out the collection. I guessed that belonged to Sam Clemson, who specialized in undead-friendly home renovations.
Ben and I approached the porch, only to be treated to another sneak-attack hug from Dick and then Gabriel, who threw himself around Dick’s side and wrapped his arms around all three of us.
“I’m so glad you’re all right,” Dick said, and didn’t add any sort of funny quip or defensive joke. That meant this was serious.
“I’ve never been so happy to see Jane tackle people in our yard,” Gabriel said. “Which happens more than you would think.”
I laughed as Gabriel stroked an easy hand over my hair.
“From now on, you’re both wearing tracking chips. I don’t care if we have to implant them under your skin,” a tiny female voice said from somewhere near my waist. I looked down to find Georgie’s arms wrapped around me.
“You’re going to microchip me, like Fitz?” I asked her, even as I heard Jane growling into her phone inside the house.
“Yes, I am,” Georgie told me.
“This is becoming awkward, isn’t it?” Gabriel asked.
“Yes, it is,” Ben said, and we all broke apart. Georgie dragged me through the front door, where I found everybody Jane knew huddled in the parlor. Their cell phones were all plugged into various chargers, as if they’d been making so many calls that they’d drained their batteries. Zeb was holding a stack of neon-green “Have You Seen These Vampires?” fliers featuring the photos Ben and I had used on our employee badges. So I looked especially tragic.
Iris and Sam’s girlfriend, Tess, appeared to be passing out mugs of blood to the vampires, while Cal stood in the corner cursing into his phone in . . . Greek, maybe? Andrea had a rolling whiteboard, the kind you would see on Law and Order, where someone had written “Potential B&M Locations” and listed “Lucky Clover Motel,” “Got lost in the Council office subfloors,” “Bus station,” and “Ben’s parents’ house.” Hell, Gigi was on her laptop, typing furiously as maps scrolled across her screen. Gigi’s cute Russian boyfriend, Nik, was pinning photos of various Council employees up on a wall marked “Suspects.”
At first, people froze when we walked through the door, and then they cheered, rushing forward as if they were going to hug us, too.
“I’m really grateful, but I’m kind of hugged out right now. Yipe!” Fitz bounded forward from the back of the house, pounced, and knocked me onto my back, pinning me to the floor by my chest and covering my face in doggy kisses. I took it for about a minute, because it was nice to know my favorite dog missed me, and then I stood, brushing off the slobber and sheddings with as much dignity as I could. “Thank you for putting together this missing-persons command center, though. I really appreciate it.”
“We’re sorry we put you through this,” Ben said. “If we could have called, we would have.”
“We found Meagan’s purse and both of your cell phones under the sink in the R and D subfloor’s break room,” Nik said. “We tried to follow your scent, but whoever moved you managed to cover your trail quite effectively. I heard Georgie’s suggestion of chipping you. Is not a bad idea.”
“Honey, no,” Gigi told him. From her body language, I could see that she wanted to walk over to us, but she respected the “no hug” boundary, which I appreciated. “We do not chip our friends. Because . . . of privacy? Wait, why don’t we chip our friends again? It would save a lot of time.”
“It really would,” Jane said, nodding. “I mean, Libby and Wade put about two hundred miles on her minivan driving circles around the county, trying to use her ‘mothering instincts’ to track you down. That kind of mileage adds up.”
“You will not chip us,” Ben told her sternly. “We are not badly behaved cocker spaniels.”
“I’ve got something special cooked up for you,” Tess promised, bustling into the kitchen. “Twice the iron, none of the aftertaste.”
I wanted to respond, but the sheer volume of people and activity in the room finally struck me. All of these people had come to look for us. I mean, sure, I’d had some nice conversations with some of them. They were all very kind. Libby was clearly awesome. But I would never have expected them to put themselves out for me like this, to drop everything they were doing to look for me, just in case I was in trouble. I didn’t feel connected to them like that. But how much of that was my own reluctance? And they weren’t just here for Ben; they seemed just as pleased to see me as they were to see someone they’d known for years. These were good people. I needed to stop shutting them out. But I couldn’t express any of that, because a lump the size of a small boulder was lodged in my throat.
“The Lucky Clover?” I asked Andrea. “That place across town with the creepy half-filled pool? Really?”
“Things happen there,” Andrea said with a shrug. “Tacky things. Naked tacky things.”
“Speaking of which,” Georgie piped up. “You two reek of—”
I clamped a hand over her mouth. “Manure. We reek of manure, you know, from the field.”
Ben nodded. “Uh-huh. We slept in a field. Lots of fertilizer.”
“I’m going to go shower,” I said, hand still firmly clamped over Georgie’s mouth. It was a good thing she didn’t have to breathe.
“Me, too,” Ben announced as I jogged up the stairs. “I mean, not at the same time as Meagan. I’ll wait until she’s done. Not out in the hallway or anything. I’ll give her space while she’s naked. Like normal.”
I stopped on the steps, out of view of the others, and mouthed, What are you doing?
Ben threw up his hands and grimaced. I shook my head and hustled up to the second floor.
“I’m just going to go upstairs now,” Ben said.
“What is wrong with you?” I hissed as he reached the second landing.
“I don’t know! I panicked!”
“I am in charge of all emergency postsex moments from now on.”
“Agreed.”