She takes a deep breath, wringing her hands in front of her stomach. “Benji…” She sighs, lifting her eyes up to mine.
Is it wrong that even with everything I know about her, I still love the way she says my name? It still makes me want to throw her over my shoulder and carry her to bed.
“It’s fine,” I grunt.
“I swear I didn’t know your sister lived here. I was just looking for somewhere for Lucy to stay. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll be leaving in six weeks’ time, as long as I get to talk to Sawyer before then.”
I study Rae’s face, and I see no animosity. No secrets. No pretense.
Is it possible she’s telling the truth? That she just wanted to give her sister somewhere safe to live?
As we walk back toward Sarah’s house, I gulp. Isn’t that exactly what I did when I helped Sarah with the down payment for this place? Haven’t I been working my ass off to make sure she and the kids have food on the table? I even got Oliver a job at the garage, even though Harold said we didn’t need another mechanic.
Glancing over my shoulder, I look at the rental car parked on the street. It’s a budget sedan. It certainly doesn’t look like something a Montgomery would drive, even temporarily.
What is it with this family? What am I not getting about them?
Rae puts a hand on my arm, and a current of heat flows from the touch. I pause, turning to look at her. With her hair down and just a little makeup on, she looks a lot more vulnerable than she did when we first met. A lot more human.
“I’m not here to make your life hell, Benji. I’m sorry about the garage. I wasn’t trying to ruin anything for you. I was just trying to help my family.”
My throat tightens. It sounds like she’s telling the truth. I nod. “It’s fine. I’d never have that much money to give to Harold anyway. It was a pipe dream.”
She gulps, and my eyes drift to her throat, then back up to her lips. When she’s here, like this, open and nonthreatening, it feels like she’s a totally different person than the one I’ve heard about. I didn’t even know her sister had a kid. Sawyer never mentioned he had a nephew. And where’s the father?
Rae gives me a hopeful smile, and I nod toward Sarah’s house. As we walk in and I hear the sounds of children laughing and their mothers talking in the kitchen, it feels almost normal.
But stealing another glance at Rae, I know there’s nothing normal about her. She has layers of secrets. Hidden memories she keeps to herself.
Roman runs up to her with a ball in his hand. He gives it to Rae, who accepts it as if it’s the most precious Fabergé egg in the world.
I wonder, then, seeing her smile as her nephew presents her with a toy, if she’s really as bad as I thought.
8
Rae
Sarah’s house is organized chaos, and Benji’s sister seems to thrive on it. The kids play with Roman, and Lucy takes a seat at the kitchen island. Sarah pours her a glass of wine as I watch from the doorway. They talk as if they’ve known each other a lifetime.
I back up slowly, banging straight into a big, broad wall of muscle.
Benji clears his throat. I spin around, heat rushing to my cheeks.
How does he do that? He can hate me with every atom of his being, and my body just begs for more.
“I was just going to go unpack the car,” I say, ducking my head to hide my blush. “Don’t want to leave all our stuff out there. We should be getting a delivery of furniture any minute, too.”
“I’ll help.”
I try to hide my surprise. I nod. That’s a departure from his usual I hope you burn in a fiery abyss attitude.
Benji follows me outside, and I try to ignore the thumping of my heart. I steal a few glances his way, wondering if he knows how attractive he looks in a plain, black T-shirt.
Maybe it’s because I’m used to seeing rich men wearing expensive three-piece suits or trying too hard with designer clothes that cost more than a normal person’s monthly wages. Maybe it’s because I’m away from home and outside my element.
Whatever it is, my head is spinning. My eyes keep darting toward Benji, and the way his shirt stretches over his broad frame. How his pants hang low on his slim hips, revealing a strip of skin every time he moves.
Sparks zip from one end of my body to the other until it’s hard for me to walk in a straight line. I force myself to keep my head facing forward, even though everything inside me is screaming to look his way again.
With Benji’s help—and his muscles—we’re able to unload the car and bring everything indoors. Our new home is a one-story, three-bedroom house. Once Lucy’s settled, I’ll go back to Houston. Eventually, when I move up here permanently, I’ll find my own place. For now, we’re rooming together.
I point to the master bedroom.
“That’s Lucy’s room,” I say. “You can take her bags in there.”
“You’re giving her the master?” Benji tilts his head.
I shrug. “I don’t need much space.”
He stares at me as if he doesn’t know if I’m kidding or not. I try not to squirm under his gaze, choosing instead to haul my own worn-out suitcase to the last bedroom down the hall. As I duck inside the room, I take in a quick breath, putting my hand to my forehead.
Being around Benji is exhausting and exhilarating all at once.
The doorbell rings, and I head out front to see who it is. When I see the delivery truck and two men in fluorescent yellow shirts, I open the door with
