Chapter 12

Ben Simmons is a riot. April and I are in the home of one of the men she is looking into in Cincinnati, Ohio. As he opened the door, we realized the list had the wrong date of birth for him. He is aged like a grandfather and is hilarious. He is 70 years old and still kicking. I can tell he doesn"t get many visitors because of how eager he was for us to come inside.

We have been here for four hours, looking at photos and listening to him tell us about his stint in Hollywood as a private pilot for Marilyn Monroe and the like. He pulled out the pictures for that time in his life and that is where he is still living, in that era of his life.

When April told him why we were there, his face became solemn. He explained that he would have had a family once, but while he was away in Vietnam, his wife and their unborn child died from Influenza. He says they didn't have all the medicine and technology they have now. My heart aches for him. According to him, she was the love of his life, and he was done. So, he retired early and became a private pilot to the stars.

"So, when are you two going to make it official?" He asks so coolly. I don't flinch. April, on the other hand, damn near chokes on her tea.

"I'm sorry. Why would you ask that?" she asks, trying to remain calm.

"It's simple. He is in love with you, and you are running as fast as you can." Damn. He read us like a fucking book. But something he says hits me right in the gut. I might be in this alone for real. "Body language is everything. He keeps inching closer to you, but you refuse to move away, but also have so much tension from his proximity the elastic might snap." This man should be a relationship therapist.

"Well, I appreciate your time and assessment. We are on a timetable and need to get going. It was our pleasure, Mr. Simmons." I say goodbye to him, noting his smirk at how fast she hightailed it out of there. It did not escape my notice either.

Once we are in the car, I don't turn it on. Instead, I turn to face her. I think it"s time to get serious.

"Listen, if this is not what you want, April, then just say the word, and I will finish this trip with you and resign. I am not in the business of pushing myself on women nor chasing those who don't want to be caught." It feels good to get it off my chest. I watch her head drop, and my heart begins to break. She turns to me, tears in her eyes, and touches my hand.

"It's not that, Ken. I'm just scared." She says as a lone tear falls down her face. I wipe it away and touch her chin, so she is looking at me.

"Scared of what?"

"Of being hurt." My heart begins to mend because this I can fix.

"Look at me. I would never hurt you, baby. Every breath you take, every smile you smile and every time you shake in my arms, letting yourself go while I am inside of you is what I live for. I love you so fucking much, baby. I just need to know if you are in this with me." She smiles before leaning over the console and touching her lips to mine. This is the first time she has initiated the kiss, making me feel six feet tall.

Her lips linger, her tongue slides over my lips, and I open mine and show her how much I love her. She pulls back slightly, but our lips are still touching. "I do, you know." Her eyes tell me what she can't say, but I need it.

"You do what, baby? Say it."

"I love you, Ken. I love you so much I feel like I am going to die when you are not touching me." She places her hand on her heart.

"Well, baby, we can certainly fix that." I see the twinkle in her eye when she realizes what I am saying. Yeah, love. I am going to touch you all fucking night.