“Foolish!”She jerked, swiped away the tears.“That’s putting it way too nicely.We were far past that.We were idiotic.The chances we took...”She hesitated, then whispered, “Sometimes I wonder if it should have been me.”
“Survivor’s guilt,” he said gently.“It’s a bitch.Just remember, Sarah, it could have been you.You were lucky.And Mira didn’t die because of you.”
“I should have stopped her” —she barely got out the words— “when I knew she’d had too much.I—I could have saved her.”
“No, Sarah, you couldn’t have.Sounds like she was a junky.If she hadn’t overdosed that night, it would have happened on another.Stop taking this on yourself.”
“How, Ben?”She searched his features.“How do I do that?”Not waiting for his answer, she surprised him by getting to her feet.“In my mind, I call that night theincident.Sounds silly, huh?To call a human being’s tragic death something so trivial.”She gave a garbled laugh, but there was no humor in the sound.“I haven’t told any of this to Big Jim.Or Rio.I don’t want them to know.”
He stood with her.“If they find out, it won’t be from me.”
“I’m grateful.Thank you for listening.Now you know my shame.”She hunched a shoulder away from him.“I’m turning in.”
“Wait, Sarah.”He held out a hand.
“I’m exhausted, Ben.”She kept moving.“I’ve been scared with all that’s going on.It’s not fun to have some stranger want you dead and never knowing when he’ll come for you.So ...thank you.”
“I’ll keep you safe.”
“I know.Just right now I need to be alone.Good night.”Before he could say another word, she was down the hall and closing her bedroom door.
At his sides, he closed his fists.He ached for her, for her guilt, for her grief in losing her friend, and even for her shame.If he could have taken any of the burden onto himself, he would have.
At least she’d finally told him.
The only thing he could do was try to wash away part of her memories with his affection.With himself.His body.And the only way to do that was through lovemaking.
Sarah’s bedroom door remained closed.
Ben turned off lamps and headed for his own room.After the long day working, he took a hot shower, dried off, and wrapped another towel around his waist.Standing in his doorway, he strained to hear anything from Sarah’s room, any movement, perhaps the sounds of weeping.But he heard nothing.Could she be asleep already?
On bare feet, he padded to her door and reached for the knob.In midair, he stopped.
Sarah had not invited him in.If she wanted him, she would have made it clear, and she’d done no such thing.She’d said she needed to be alone.He had no right to push.Wasn’t she a guest in his home?Wasn’t he responsible for protecting her and not seducing her?
Resting his arm on the molding, he put his forehead on his arm and squeezed his eyes shut.On just the other side of that block of wood was the woman of his dreams.In need.In pain.Everything in him urged him to comfort her in the most fundamental way possible.
He wanted her desperately and the erections bedeviling him ever since meeting her were becoming an unbearable problem.Not since he was a teenager had he found it necessary to jack off so often.Even now, the towel at his waist was barely staying closed over his ramrod stiff hard-on.
With superhuman effort, he forced himself off her door and took a step backward.Then another.Slowly, haltingly, he retreated until he was inside his own room.
Falling onto his mattress, he landed on his back, the towel flung aside, one leg hanging off the bed.For most of his adult life, he’d had little trouble coaxing women into bed.When he’d wanted someone, he made his play, was often successful, and that was that.The few times he’d struck out, he racked them up to a low failure count and moved on.Never once did he look back, not at any of those women.
If that made him wicked, then he guessed he was.Wicked Ben, his office staff called him?He probably deserved it.
With Sarah, he didn’t want to coax her into anything.He wanted her full consent, her full passion.That she hadn’t offered herself to him yet was beyond frustrating.
One thing was certain, he didn’t want to be wicked anymore.
An errant thought brought him upright in bed.Was Sarah holding herself apart because she was involved with another man?Could it be her neighbor, Travis Butler?Ben rubbed his jaw.Travis had warned him off like a big bull pawing the ground, and she’d left happily for her date with him.
Yet when Ben had driven Butler home after getting sideswiped, Sarah had been concerned about him, but not overly so.She hadn’t otherwise mentioned Butler, nor had Big Jim.
Ben rubbed his jaw.That evening after their knife-fighting lesson in the barn she’d certainly responded.The interlude had been smoking hot.Maybe he was hunting for excuses that didn’t exist.Maybe Sarah just needed more time to decide he was the right man for her.
Easing back onto the pillow, he reluctantly decided that if she needed more time, he’d give it.There was no other option, because one day soon she’d understand the irrefutable fact that he was the man for her.
He’d just have to wait.
