Chapter Thirty-Six

Ben

I said I was waiting for the right moment.

Turns out the right moment was in her mother’s backyard, after her father’s funeral, while raindrops are pummeling us.

She parts her lips, and I dart my tongue between them. A soft sigh leaves her throat and vibrates against me. The kiss is gentle at first, exploratory, until—

Tessa wraps her arms around my neck and deepens the kiss. Shivers course through me—from the rain or the kiss?

It’s the kiss. This fucking spectacular, perfect kiss.

Our lips slide together, and the sensation is electrifying.

Yes, the perfect time. The right moment.

The perfect kiss.

She pulls back a few minutes later and gasps in a breath.

I slide my finger over the contours of her cheek and jawline and then over her bottom lip, which is swollen from our kiss. “You okay?”

She simply nods, grabs my hand, and leads me back into the house through the double doors that lead to her mother’s large kitchen. Before we enter, though, she stops me.

She smiles at me, drops of rain catching on her lashes. “You were right, Ben. The earth moved.” She grabs my hand and pulls me through the doors into the kitchen.

I inhale the spicy and robust scent of the Mexican food. I haven’t eaten anything, and my stomach responds with a growl.

“Tessa!” Mrs. Logan says, entering the kitchen. She’s a beautiful woman, but her eyes are sunken and sad. “My goodness, what were you doing out there? I thought you had gone to your room. You’re soaking wet.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Tessa says as we drip all over the black-and-white tile floor. “You remember Ben.”

I hold out my hand, water dripping from my sleeve. “How are you holding up, Mrs. Logan?”

“As well as can be expected, I guess.” She turns. “Lily! I need some towels in here. A lot of towels.”

I look into the living area. “Looks like the reception is about over. Only a few people left, so I should be going.”

“Can you stay?” Tessa asks.

I chuckle, wanting so much to pull her into my arms, but her mother is standing right there. “I kind of need some dry clothes.”

“Then…” She turns to her mother. “Would it be okay if I went back to Ben’s place with him?”

Tessa’s Aunt Lily—who looks a lot like Mrs. Logan but with some gray in her hair—enters the kitchen, bearing two large towels and hands one to each of us. I dry off my face and hair, but there’s not much I can do about my black suit. It clings to me.

Did Tessa really just ask if she could come home with me?

Does she know what will happen between us if she does?

Perhaps she does know, and that’s why she wants to come.

“I have to talk to Ben about some work,” Tessa continues.

“Can’t that wait until tomorrow?” Mrs. Logan asks. “Or Monday, when you’re actually at work?”

“Your mother’s right, Tessa,” I say. “You should stay here.”

“I’ll walk you to your car, then,” Tessa says. “I’m wet anyway.”

Two or three people are scattered in the living and family rooms, but most of the mourners have left.

Sherlock is outside waiting. I signal to him not to bother getting out of the car in the rain.

Tessa grabs my hand. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here. For talking to me. For that kiss.”

I smile, caressing her cheek. God, her skin is soft as silk. “It was the right time.”

“It was.” She looks up to the sky. The rain has subdued a bit. “It was the perfect time.”

I stroke the back of her head. “I’d like to kiss you again, Tessa. I think you know that. I think you know I’d like to do a lot more than kiss you.”

She nods, a raindrop landing on her eyelash. I gently flick it off.

“Would you like to have lunch tomorrow?” I ask.

She smiles, her cheeks blushing pink despite the chill of the rain. “I think I’d like that.”

“I’ll pick you up around noon here. You’ll still be here, right?”

“Yeah. But then you can take me back to my place. I already told my mom I’ll be going back, since it’s so much closer to work. Aunt Lily and Eva are staying here with her.”

“Awesome.” I touch my lips to hers. Sparks jump all over me. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

I get into the car, and as Sherlock drives away, I look through the rain-spattered window at Tessa, her fingers touching her lips.

…

Sunday afternoon lunch with Tessa turns out to be brunch. When I pick her up at noon, she says she is hankering for some scrambled eggs with bacon. I take her to the Plaza Hotel’s Sunday champagne brunch, which goes until two o’clock.

I’d actually entertained the idea of bringing her to my place and making her lunch, but then I figured it was too soon.

That kiss yesterday in the rain…

She was so beautiful with the rain and the tears sliding down her cheeks. Tormented and haunted, yet so damned beautiful.

When she tilted her chin, I knew it was the right time.

I’m surprised when she takes a sip of the champagne that our server poured for her.

“Do you like champagne?” I ask. “You didn’t drink it on the flight to Jamaica.”

She sets her flute down. “I do. I had some for the toast at Skye’s bachelorette party. And I had a Skye cocktail. Other than that I haven’t had a lot to drink since…”

I nod. I’m not going to make her say it.

“I can’t thank you enough,” she goes on. “The party was perfectly executed. Even the dancers.”

“Again, I’m so sorry about that.”

She shrugs. “I know, and it wasn’t my thing, but Skye and the others loved them. Anyway, thanks for planning everything else. It all came together so well.”

“Tessa, I was glad to do it. You were obviously struggling, and I wanted to help.”

Her brown eyes sparkle. “Do you save every damsel in distress you come across?”

I smile. “Can’t say that I do.”

“Then why did you help me?”

I pause a moment. Then, “Because it’s my brother’s wedding. I wanted these parties to be perfect.”

Her lips turn down just a bit.

Is she disappointed in my response?

Because the truth of the matter is while my response is accurate, I also wanted to help her. She knows this, but it won’t hurt me to say it again.

“I also did it for you,” I continue. “I’ve been drawn to you since that first time we met to have a drink and plan the parties. The more I get to know you, the more I want you. I dream about doing more than kissing those lips of yours, as you know. I wanted to kiss you that first night I met you, Tessa. That first night when you were scared of your own shadow.”

“Why didn’t you?”

I smile. “Normally, when I feel like kissing a woman, I do it. I know the signals. Of course, I misread the signal once. Got my face slapped.”

She drops her jaw.

“But you wouldn’t have slapped my face.”

“Probably not.”

“You also weren’t ready for a kiss that night.”

“Absolutely not,” she echoes. “I was beginning to wonder if I’d have to wait until my deathbed—” Her eyes go wide as a look of horror crosses her face. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I just said that. My father just died, and I’m not… I don’t want you to think…”

I reach across the table and pat her hand. She doesn’t pull away.

“I don’t think anything of the sort, Tessa.”

She frowns. “It’s odd, really. I’m devastated about my father’s loss, of course. I miss him horribly, and I wish I had been able to see him one last time. But I’m actually feeling better than I have in a month. What does that say about me? What the hell kind of person am I?”

I shake my head. “I’m not a therapist, but I’d say you’re pretty normal. Your father’s death got your mind off of the trauma you’ve experienced. In a way, it’s helping you heal.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

I shrug. “Like I said, I’m no therapist. It’s just a theory.”

We’re silent for a few minutes, until—

“So…is this a date?” she asks blatantly.

I laugh lightly. “I think so.”

“Good.” She smiles.

And it’s about as genuine a smile as I’ve ever seen on her face.

“So you want to date me?” I ask.

She blushes but doesn’t break our eye contact. “I didn’t think I’d ever want to date anyone again, but yes, Ben. I think I would like to date you.”

“Then we’ll continue taking it slow.”

She narrows her gaze. “What if I don’t want to take it slow?”

“Baby, I don’t want to take it slow, either.” I grin. “Trust me. I’ve had all kinds of images in my head about all the things I want to do to your luscious body. But I’m going to wait until you’re fully ready to experience them because I want your mind in that game.”

“Will you at least kiss me some more?” she asks coyly.

“Guaranteed.”

She smiles and takes a bite of her frittata. She’s eaten more today than I’ve ever seen her eat, including on the island when we were inundated with gourmet food.

I flake off a piece of my salmon and bring it to my mouth. The flavor of the capers explodes across my tongue. Then, without thinking, I raise my glass of champagne. “To…whatever this is.”

I regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth. I know exactly what this is. I’m interested in Tessa—more interested than I can remember being in any woman ever.

She probably needs more time to heal, and she may not be ready for what I want to do to her.

And with the way my life is going right now…

I don’t have any business entering into a relationship.

Not until I deal with Dirk Conrad once and for all.

…

Fifteen Years Earlier…

“We’re going to need some pliers,” Jerry says.

“Pliers?” I shake my head. “What the fuck for?”

“We’re going to have to pull his teeth out.”

Green acid crawls up my throat. “You can’t be serious.”

“We’ll get rid of this body,” Jerry says, “but there’s still a chance it may be found. If it is, forensics will be able to identify him by his dental records.”

“Jesus Christ,” I say. “How the hell do you know all this? What the fuck are you into, Jerry?”

Jerry scowls at me. “Just get me some pliers. This is a construction warehouse. There are tools here, right?”

Yeah, there are tools here. Pliers. I know exactly where they are. Numbly, I walk through the aisles until I find what I need.

I bring the pliers back and hand them to Jerry. “This is all you, man.”

Jerry takes the pliers, looks them over. “One of you shine your phone on his mouth, and another one of you needs to hold his head.”

Oh. Fuck. No.

I’ve done all I’m doing.

Dirk holds the guy’s head while Carlos shines the flashlight from his phone on the dude’s teeth.

I want to turn away, but this is a train wreck.

A train wreck, and I’m caught right in the middle, about to be smashed by two boxcars.

Jerry pulls the poor guy’s teeth out one by one, so deftly that I’m pretty sure this isn’t the first time he’s done such a thing.

Damn, he probably pulls teeth out of animals for sport or something.

Why the hell did I get involved with these idiots?

“We need a tarp or something,” Carlos says.

I scout out the warehouse once more, but I don’t find any tarps. I’ve got one in my truck, though, which I was stupid enough to drive here. “No tarps in here,” I say when I return, “but I’ve got one in my truck. I’ll be back.”

I sneak to my truck, grab the tarp quickly as I look around, and walk back into the warehouse.

Only to find the other three crawling on the floor.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Dildo brain there”—Carlos points to Dirk—“dropped all the teeth when Jerry handed them to him.”

“Come on, Black,” Dirk says. “We’ve got to find all of them.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say under my breath.

I join the others on the concrete floor, searching for human teeth. Yeah, that’s what I’m fucking doing.

When we’ve grabbed them all, Carlos counts them. “Twenty-seven,” he says.

“A human being has thirty-two teeth,” I say dryly.

“No shit?” Dirk says.

“Uh…yeah. Basic human anatomy. Did you sleep through health class?”

Did I really just ask that question? Of course he did. If he was even there.

“Not if he had his wisdom teeth removed,” Carlos says. “Who doesn’t have their wisdom teeth removed?”

“I haven’t,” I say.

“My brother did when he was eighteen,” Dirk says. “Twenty-seven is probably all of them.”

“Even with his wisdom teeth gone, we’re missing one,” I say.

“We searched every fucking crevice,” Dirk says. “The dude only had twenty-seven teeth. Maybe one got knocked out.”

Dirk has a point. This lowlife could have easily lost a tooth in a fight. Or to a nasty-ass infection.

“All right,” I say. “We’ve got to get the fuck out of here.” I look around. “What the hell do you plan to do with this body anyway?”

“Throw it in the bay.”

I gulp down puke again. “Jesus Christ.”

“We need your truck to do this, Black,” Dirk reminds me.

I’m in too deep to bow out now. “Fine. We’re going to get rid of the body, and then the three of you are going to help me scrub my fucking truck. After that, I don’t want to see any of you ever again.”

“Fine by me,” Dirk says. “Once we divvy up this cash, we’ll all be set for a while.”

I’m not sure I even want my share, but I’ll take it. I’ll take it in case this thing blows up and I end up in prison. At least I’ll have something to leave for Dad and Bray.

I didn’t kill the guy, and I didn’t pull out his teeth.

But I found the pliers and gave them to Jerry, and that tarp wrapped around the poor sod is mine. We have to transport him to the bay in my truck.

This is so fucked up.

What the hell was I thinking?

One thing’s for sure—I will never stray again.

I will do my duty. I’ll go to school, get good grades, do my work after school and on weekends. Contribute to my household.

I’ll be the good son.

The best damned son ever.