The Street Where She Lives

inside the foyer of Rachel’s house and smelled burned eggs, which meant Emily was cooking again. She had the morning off school for teacher conferences. A smile tugged at his lips that she’d cooked rather than sleep in, before he remembered this would be his last day enjoying his daughter’s attempts at cooking.

His flight was tomorrow. Smile gone, he moved into the kitchen in time to hear Rachel say, “I don’t like the idea of you going into Los Angeles for someone you met off the Internet.”

“Mom! It’s not a porn convention, it’s Alicia.”

“You have no idea if this Alicia is who she says she is.”

“But she is! She’s twelve, like me, and goes to a middle school that sucks, like me. She’s my best friend and we want to meet.”

“Who’s idea was it? Yours or hers?”

“Both.”

“And how long have you two been talking?”

“You know this already. A couple of months.”

“It sounds unsafe, honey.”

Emily tossed down the wooden spoon on the stove. “You’re so mean!”

“Stop,” Ben said, grabbing her when she would have whirled out the room. “Hold on. I don’t want to hear you talking to your mom in that tone.”

“But she talks to me like I’m a baby.”

Rachel stood up. “You are my baby.”

“Mom!”

“Okay, hold on.” Ben spun Emily around so she and Rachel faced each other. “Look at your mom. Listen to her.”

“But Dad-”

“Listen.” He glanced at Rachel. “Obviously you’re worried about the whole unknown factor with Alicia.”

“Of course! She’s too young to take the bus by herself into the heart of L.A. and meet someone I don’t know.”

“I agree.” Ben gently squeezed the glaring Emily. “So why don’t I go with you, Em? Wouldn’t that work?”

“I’ve been informed parents aren’t allowed,” Rachel told him.

“Bad choice, sweetness.” Ben tsked at Emily over that. “If you change your mind about that today, let me know and I’ll-”

“Us,” Rachel corrected. “We’ll both go.”

“Us. If you change your mind and want us to take you, then you’ve got a deal.”

“But you’re leaving,” Emily reminded him, reminded them all, and her voice cracked a little on the last syllable, cracking his heart as well.

“Yeah.” Leaving. His middle name. “But I could take you into L.A. with your mom tomorrow and then leave right after.”

Emily brooded over that for a moment. “Could we go to, like, a restaurant or something, and you guys let us have our own table?”

Ben slid his gaze to Rachel. “Rach?”

“Fine. But I still don’t like it-” She broke off when Emily leaped forward and bear-hugged the life right out of her.

“You’re the best, Mom!”

Rachel shook her head and laughed. “Could you do me a favor and try to remember that?”

With a grin, Emily danced out of the room. A moment later they heard the front door slam as she left to catch her bus.

“I wish you hadn’t agreed to that,” Rachel said, sitting back down at the table.

“Why? After this Asada thing, meeting an online friend seems pretty tame, especially with us right there.”

“At a different table.”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to her, Rach.”

“You’re not going to always be there.”

He stared at her bowed head as she calmly paid bills, and marveled that she never broke stride in writing her checks while she managed to dig in hard at his heart. “I thought we were okay.”

“We are.”

“So what’s the matter?”

“Do you really need me to spell it out?”

“I’m a guy,” he said so despondently she actually let out a laugh. “I need everything spelled out.”

“Well, we could start with Asada.”

Just the name on her lips swamped him with guilt. “Who’s dead as a doornail.”

“Not in my dreams, he’s not.”

Another nail in his heart. “Rach-”

“No. I’m sorry.” Tipping her head back, she stared at the ceiling. “It’s Emily, too. I just realized how much she’s growing up. I mean look at her, she no longer even needs me, and I’ve…I’ve just come to understand my show of strength with her is really just a farce.”

“You’re an incredible mom.”

“Thanks. It’s just…”

“Just what, Rach?”

“You’re out of here tomorrow.” She smiled sadly. “And I just might admit to missing you this time.”

He reached for her hand, took the pen out of it and linked their fingers. “I’m going to miss you, too. So damn much. Do you remember the other night? In your bed? Where we came together like we’d never been apart?”

“I remember.”

“You were into my touch, and God knows, I was into yours.” He pulled her up against him. “Neither of us can have what we really want,” he whispered, skimming his lips over her ear. “But wouldn’t it be nice if we could have one more night?”

“Ben-”

He opened his mouth and sucked the edge of her ear-lobe into his mouth. Her fingers tightened on his, her breath left her lungs in a whoosh. As he took his mouth on a tour down her throat, her eyes drifted closed. “Ben, what are you doing?”

“Getting you there,” he said. “To that one spot we can both share, where we can both be happy.”

“Mindless sex?”

“If that’s all we can have, what’s wrong with that?”

“Spoken like a true red-blooded male,” she said on a breathless laugh, but he had her, he could feel her softening beneath his hands, which were roaming her body now, could hear it in her breathing against his shoulder. She tilted her face a little, and when he gently touched his mouth to hers, she opened for him, nipping at his lower lip, then soothing it with a lazy swipe of her tongue.

As an act of acquiescence, it was an irresistible offer, an artless seduction.

“Mel’s here. She went shopping though.”

“Shopping is good.”

“This won’t change anything.” She sucked on a patch of skin at his throat, making his knees weak. “Nothing at all.”

“No,” he agreed, catching his breath when her hands ran down his chest. “Rach…” His eyes crossed when she boldly caressed his thighs…between them. He struggled to remember they were right in the kitchen. “Upstairs-”

Her fingers did the talking, outlining the erection he sported, which was threatening the seams on his jeans. His body arched slowly into her exploring hand. Stifling a groan, he caught her fingers, then lifted her in his arms.

With a laughing gasp, she held on. “Bedroom?”

“Bedroom.”