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Bring Me Back Page 3
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“Hey.” I smile at him and stand on my tiptoes to kiss his dimpled cheek. “I’m meeting the girls for lunch. They wish you could come.”
Ben grins. “It’s because I’m hilarious, right?”
I pat his chest. “You wish. Your jokes suck.”
He puts a hand over his heart. “You wound me, babe.”
“Actually—” I twirl past him “—I think they keep hoping one day you’ll show up with some hot doctor friends.”
Ben laughs loudly and his eyes sparkle. “Is that so?”
“It’s a hunch.” I shrug. “I made you something to eat.” I point to a plate, give him a kiss, and say, “Get some rest.”
He nods and stifles a yawn.
I start for the door and turn back to him. “You look good in those scrubs.” I wink and then cup my hands like I’m squeezing his ass.
He throws his head back and laughs. “I love you, Blaire.”
“Love you,” I say. “Oh, and Ben?” I linger in the doorway, suddenly feeling nervous. He looks up from the plate of food he’s uncovering. “Yes.”
“Yes?” His brows furrow in confusion. Before I can elaborate his eyes widen with clarity. “Yes, yes? You want to have a baby?”
I nod.
He rushes to me, and before I can blink, I’m in his arms and he’s spinning me around. His lips latch onto mine and he kisses me like I’m the ocean and he’s the moon. His lips taste of orange juice and the promise of great things to come.
He sets me down and holds my face between his hands. “Yeah? We’re doing this?” He grins so big that both his dimples pop out in his cheeks. He suddenly doesn’t look so tired. Just happy. So happy.
I nod and smile. “Yeah, we are.” He kisses me again. “I thought about what you said,” I continue, “and you’re right. It usually takes a while to get pregnant, and our wedding is so soon—”
He cuts me off with yet another kiss. “I love you,” he whispers, his eyes glimmering. “Let’s start right now.” He sweeps my legs out from under me.
“Ben.” I laugh and push at his chest. “I have to go and you need to go to bed.”
“Oh, right.” He sets me down. “Later.” He waggles his brows.
I pick up my fallen purse and lift it to my shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”
Ben kisses my cheek and disappears into the kitchen.
I hop into my Honda Civic and drive over to the coffee shop. I’m late, but not by much. Despite that, I’m still the last to arrive.
“Blaire, you’re always late,” Casey calls when I breeze into the shop. Bless her, she’s already ordered my coffee and sandwich.
“I’m sorry, Ben came home as I was leaving and we were talking.”
“Aw, did you tell him to come?” she asks as I take a seat.
I hold the coffee mug between my fingers. “He just got off of a twenty-four-hour shift, he needed to sleep.”
“Oh, right.” She shakes her head. “Blond moment.” She waves off the words like they’re nothing. I find it funny since Casey is one of the smartest people I know and on the fast track to becoming one of our state’s most powerful defense attorneys. “Anyway, how were the holidays, ladies?” She lifts her mug of coffee to her lips and takes a dainty sip.
“My brother and his girlfriend were totally doing it in the bathroom before dinner.” Hannah wrinkles her nose. “It was gross.”
Chloe snorts and sweeps her glossy dark hair over one shoulder. “If I was dating your brother I’d want to sex him up all the time.”
“Ew.” Hannah cringes. “He’s my brother. I don’t need to hear this.”
“Your hot brother,” Chloe and Casey say simultaneously.
Hannah looks to me for help. I shrug and sip my coffee innocently. “He is hot.”
“Ugh,” she groans. “You all suck.”
“Didn’t he model for Abercrombie once?” Chloe asks, leaning toward Hannah like she wants to soak up every word.
Hannah frowns. “Once, when he was eighteen.”
“You don’t model for Abercrombie if you’re not ungodly hot. It’s a fact,” Chloe argues.
Hannah sighs. “You guys should start calling me, That-Girl-Hannah-With-The-Hot-Brother.”
Casey snorts. “It has a nice ring to it.”
“Rolls right off the tongue.” I laugh.
“You guys are taking me right back to my high school days.” Hannah sighs, staring down into her mug of chai tea.
“Oh, stop it.” Casey takes a bite of her blueberry muffin. “You’re the one that brought it up.”
Hannah blanches. “Nope, I’m pretty sure you guys brought up his supposed hotness all on your own.”
“It’s not supposed, honey—” Casey pats Hannah’s hand “—it’s the truth.”
Hannah rolls her eyes and tucks a piece of strawberry-blond hair behind her ear. “How was your Thanksgiving?” she asks me.
“Good,” I say with a smile. “It was nice seeing Ben’s family.”
“That’s all we get?” Casey raises a brow.
I laugh. “There’s not much to tell. My Thanksgiving was more low-key than Hannah’s. Less banging around,” I joke.
Hannah sighs. “You’re as bad as them.”
“Well, my Thanksgiving was a nightmare.” Chloe leans forward and lowers her voice like she’s letting us in on a secret. “My mom burnt the turkey, I dropped the pie on the floor, and my sister caught her hair on fire.”
“What?” I gasp. “How’d she catch her hair on fire?”
“Candle.” Chloe shakes her head forlornly. “I don’t think she’ll ever go near a candle again. The poor girl is traumatized.”
“I would be too,” Casey says.
“How was your Thanksgiving?” I ask Casey.
Her lips thin into a straight line. “Fine.”
We all stare at her. “Fine?” I question. “That doesn’t sound good.”
Casey sighs. “James,” she begins, referring to her boyfriend, “spent the whole day on his phone answering emails, which means I was left to endure his insufferable mother all on my own. The woman is insane.” She adds when we laugh, “I’m not kidding.”
“That’s what you get for dating another lawyer,” I tell her. “There’s only room for one in a household. I think there’s some sort of rule for that or something.”
She frowns and brushes crumbs off the table. “You might be on to something.”
“I take it this means there’s trouble in paradise?” Chloe prompts before taking a bite of her sandwich—I’m currently devouring mine like someone is about to come along and snatch it from my hands.
Casey nods. “I don’t think he’s the one. He’s not my Ben.”
I choke on my sandwich, practically coughing up a lung. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing bad.” She waves a hand dismissively. “I just meant that you guys are perfect for each other. I’ve never been around another couple like you guys before. You’re kind of magical to watch because you’re both so in tune with each other. It’s like you’re soulmates or something.”
“Soulmates,” I snort, “yeah, right.”
Hannah nods. “No, she’s right. You guys are…” Her lips twist in thought. “Special.”
I laugh. “And you guys are nuts.”
“Are we?” Casey asks. “Come on, I’ve known you forever, B. You had like two serious boyfriends before Ben and you never had the kind of relationship with them that you do with Ben. It’s different—rare.”
I shake my head, but there is truth to their words. Ben and I are different. It’s funny how perfect we are for each other, but I also believe timing is everything. We went to the same high school but I think if we’d been together then, it wouldn’t have lasted. Sometimes you have to find the patience to wait for good things instead of seeking it out.
We finish our lunch and agree to meet up next week. It’s sort of our thing to meet up at the local coffee shop every week and catch up. Ben joins us when he can—we all we
nt to school together so it’s not like he’s the odd man out.
I end up running a few errands while I’m out. When I arrive home it’s practically dinner time. I park in the driveway and notice that there aren’t any lights on. I frown. I hope Ben isn’t still sleeping. He likes to sleep for a few hours, then get up, and go back to bed at a regular time.
I lock my car and head inside with my few shopping bags.
When I open the front door I notice a few dim lights flickering from the area of the family room.
“Ben?” I call out hesitantly, stepping further into the room. I don’t know why, but I suddenly feel like the dumb girl in a horror movie who is about to get her head chopped off while the people in the audience yell about what an idiot she is. I set my bags down by the stairs and round the corner into the family. “Ben,” I gasp.
He’s pushed the coffee table out of the way and the fluffy rug in the center of the room is covered in what looks like every pillow we have in the house. The flickering lights come from all the candles he has lit. Tall candles, short candles, fat candles, skinny candles: every kind of candle you can imagine. The effect is a glittering kaleidoscope of orange flames.
Ben sits in the center of the pillows, holding a bottle of wine and two glasses. There’s a plate with cheese, crackers, and fruit beside him.
“What’s this?” I ask, kicking off my shoes and stepping onto the pillows. I stumble and fall, which makes us both laugh. I end up crawling the rest of the way over to him. When I’m beside him, he finally answers.
“I’m trying to woo you.”
I snort. “Woo me? I’m pretty sure you already do that?” I point to the glittering princess-cut diamond on my finger.
He shrugs. “The wooing should never end. It’s my job to always show you I love you.”
I smile at him. “And what’s my job?” I take the glass from him and he pours a little wine into it and his before re-corking the bottle and setting it aside.
He grins and my beloved dimple winks from his cheek. “Just to love me.”
“I already do,” I tell him, taking a sip of wine.
He leans over and kisses my cheek, then nuzzles his face into my neck. I feel his lips against my skin, when he says, “Then be happy.”
“I am happy.” I twine my fingers in his thick hair and he tilts his head back to me. “I’ve never been happier,” I tell him honestly. “Things aren’t always easy. You’re tired and busy with work and so am I. There’s the stress of bills, and life, but at the end of the day I’m thankful, and that’s what matters. I wouldn’t trade our life for anything.”
He nips playfully at my chin before sitting back. “To us.” He clinks his glass to mine.
“To us,” I echo. “Now, tell me, what is this really all about?”
He ducks his head and smiles almost bashfully. “You said you were ready to try to have a baby—” he sweeps his hand wide “—and this is me trying to be romantic.”
I raise my glass to my lips to try to hide my growing smile. “So you’re not going to fuck me on the kitchen island this time?”
He groans and his blue eyes darken. “You know it turns me on when you say fuck.”
I laugh. “I don’t know why. It’s a word.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, “but you never say it, and when you do your voice always goes really husky and sultry.”
“Is that so?” I reach for a cracker and cheese, popping it into my mouth. He nods. “What else turns you on?”
“When we’re having sex and you say my name. You say it so breathless and desperate. And when you lick your lips like that.” He points at me and my tongue quickly darts back inside my mouth from where I’d been licking away cracker crumbs. My cheeks redden. “And that.” He sweeps his thumb over my cheek. “I like that even after all these years I can still make you blush.” He lies back, propping his body up on his elbow. “Now tell me, what turns you on?” I duck my head. “Don’t get shy on me now, Blaire,” he scolds.
I swallow thickly. I don’t know why I always find these kinds of things uncomfortable to talk about. Ben and I share pretty much everything. “I get really turned on when you’re rougher…possessive, like you can’t get enough of me. Like in the kitchen the other day. Don’t get me wrong,” I hasten to add, “I like slow and sweet, too. But sometimes there’s this look in your eyes like you want to devour me, and I love it.”
He reaches for my hand. “Don’t be embarrassed.”
“I’m not.” I am.
He chuckles. “What else turns you on?” he asks again, going after me the way I did him.
I shrug. “You. Everything about you, really.”
He smiles and his eyes twinkle. “Elaborate.”
“I don’t know how to explain it, but even when we’re doing simple things—like cooking dinner together—I find myself so turned on and just…lucky to have you.”
He sits up and takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I’m lucky to have you, too.”
I lean my head on his chest and listen to the steady pounding of his heart. My eyes close and I breathe in the unique scent that is Ben—clean laundry and hints of oak. I feel his fingers smooth through my hair and I inhale a small breath.
I pull away and Ben slides the plate in-between us. He picks up a chocolate-dipped strawberry and holds it out to me. Opening my mouth, he feeds it to me.
I moan—I totally don’t mean to, but I do.
When I open my eyes and lick away a bit of the juice, I find that Ben is staring at me with darkened, lust-filled eyes.
Before I can blink, his lips are on mine and the food is scattered around us.
We both move frantically, tearing at each other’s clothes like maniacs. We’re a clash of hands, teeth, and quiet gasps. His skin is heated beneath my palms, and his lips taste like the wine. He kisses his way down my body and rids me of my jeans. They join the pile with my shirt and bra and his shirt. Luckily, even in our haste, we remember the candles and didn’t toss our clothes around haphazardly.
He hooks his fingers into the sides of my panties and slides them down. He stares at me with wide eyes, like he’s never seen anything more beautiful, and what’s more is he makes me feel beautiful.
His large hands settle on my legs and he bends his head, kissing my inner thigh. I mumble something unintelligible. I’m not even aware of what I’m trying to say.
He makes his way back up my body, paying special attention to my breasts and his fingers find their way to my pussy.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he growls.
“Kiss me,” I beg, tugging on his shoulders. He obliges.
The kiss starts out slow and then deepens. His tongue swipes against mine and he makes this rumbling sound in his chest that makes me clench around his fingers.
He slides his fingers out and rids himself of his jeans and boxers.
When he slides into me I have a brief moment of panic that he forgot a condom, and then I realize that’s the whole point. Trying to have a baby equals no condom.
He holds my hips up at an angle that allows him in deeper. I moan so loud that the whole neighborhood probably hears me.
“Yes, right there,” I plead, my fingers sliding weakly down his abs.
He leans forward and kisses me. “So good,” he murmurs.
“Oh God,” I moan. I feel like a firework about to go off. “Almost there.”
When I come, my nails dig into his back, like I’m trying to hold onto him to keep from floating away.
He presses his lips to my neck. “Beautiful,” he whispers so low that I wonder if I imagined him saying the word.
He cups my breast and rolls his thumb over my nipple. I can already feel myself building back up when he pulls out. I’m pretty sure I whimper like a kicked puppy.
But then he flips me over and slides in from behind.
“Yes,” I pant, “fuck yes.”
He rumbles at the word fuck.
“I-I’m gonna come again,” I breathe out
each word.
When I do, Ben comes only a moment later and we both collapse onto the pillows. He pulls my spent body on top of his, and I drape my limbs across him, my eyes growing heavy. That was amazing, albeit exhausting.
I feel his fingers skim over my arm. “Do you think we made a baby?” he asks softly.
I force my tired eyes open and peek up at him. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll know soon.”
He nods. “I hope we did.” He kisses me quickly.
I nod and snuggle closer to him. “Me too.”
I’m late. Only by a few days, but my period is never late.
Ben is sitting on the bed when I walk into the room with the plastic-wrapped box. When I told him my period was late this morning he nearly jumped out of his skin for me to take a test. I’d been putting it off, waiting for the proverbial shoe to drop—in this case, for my period to start. I didn’t feel pregnant, but then again maybe you didn’t feel any certain way this soon. It wasn’t like I’d ever been pregnant before and none of my friends were having babies.
“Hurry up,” he says, bouncing on the bed like an excited kid.
“I just got here,” I remind him, walking into the bathroom. He follows me and I mock-glare at him. “Back to the room with you, buddy. You’re not watching me pee.”
He pouts. “Please, this is a monumental moment in our lives.”
“Out.” I point back at the bedroom. “We won’t see any results for a few minutes so there’s no reason for you to be in here.”
He sighs and leaves me alone.
“You know,” he says through the door, “if you’re pregnant, that would be the best Christmas present ever.”
“Christmas is over,” I remind him.
“Not by much,” he argues, “it can count.”
I shake my head and ignore him as I shimmy out of my jeans and open the box.
My heart is racing a mile a minute. I’ve never been so excited and nervous at the same time. I feel jittery and my stomach is rolling. I unbox the magical little stick and pee. I might cry, “Hallelujah,” while I’m peeing because I’ve been holding it for so long. When I hear Ben laugh from the bedroom I know for sure I said that out loud.