But my fingers itch to touch his skin. I want to walk them up his chest, feeling the warmth of his solid muscle and the beating of his heart. I want to let my hands drift over his shoulders, twisting my fingers into his hair. Taste his lips. Feel his body pressed up against mine.
For the first time in a long, long time, my responsibilities take a back seat. It’s only for a moment, but it feels like an eternity. I don’t want to think about doing the right thing.
Forget about Lucy and Roman and Sawyer. Forget about my parents. Forget about the responsibilities that have weighed heavy on my shoulders, and just do something impulsive.
I could show this man exactly how he makes me feel. How he makes my body run hot. How even when he despises me with every fiber of his being, I don’t hate him at all.
“Rae,” Benji growls, his voice low and raspy. My body yearns. I drag my eyes up to his, inhaling the headiness in his gaze. His lust feeds the hunger inside me.
He’s so close. Lids hanging low. Lips parted. Need swirling around him like a thick fog, tugging me into his current.
It would be easy to kiss him. Two steps, and I’d be there. The distance between us is no distance at all. All I’d have to do is walk to him and tilt my head up, and I’m sure he’d meet my lips. I’d finally get to feel what it’s like to have his hands on me. Hands that make my body ache and pulse and thrum.
But I hesitate.
The responsibilities I’m trying so hard to ignore come back with a vengeance. They scream in my mind, reminding me where I am. Who he is. Why I’m here.
I’m not here to kiss Benji, wild as he makes me feel. He’s Sawyer’s friend. It would be complicated. Messy.
I’m here for my family. I’m here to bridge the gap between us all and try to bring us back together.
First, my siblings. Then, my parents. Glue the pieces of my shattered family back together again and start over. That’s been my goal for three and a half years—maybe even longer.
Wasn’t I the one who made sure we never stopped our traditions? Made sure we had stockings full at Christmas, even if it meant buying all the presents myself. Made sure we did Easter egg hunts until we were far too old, because it meant something to me? To us?
I was the one who did that. Traditions held our fragile family together, and I was the paste that made it stick. Still am.
That’s why I’m here. Not to satisfy some carnal craving Benji ignites in me. Not for myself.
I’m here to give Lucy the support system she needs. Have Sawyer in my life again. Give Roman a chance at a happier childhood with his aunts and uncles around.
Where does Benji fit into that? There’s no room for lust in my plan. No space for desire.
I need to take my urges and lock them away, just as I’ve always done.
Clearing my throat, I turn my head. Benji exhales, and the moment is over. The tension cracks like a thin, clear sheet of ice over a frozen puddle. I grind my heel into my lust, feeling it crunch underfoot. Pulverize it. Destroy it. Forget it even exists.
We build Roman’s bed without speaking another word.
9
Benji
Everyone’s already done with dessert by the time Rae and I get back to Sarah’s house. When my sister sees me, she waves in the general direction of the freezer, mumbling ice cream before turning back to Lucy.
Rae stands a few feet away, avoiding my eyes.
Fine by me.
Just because I help her build a few pieces of furniture doesn’t mean we’re best buds now. Nothing has changed.
Yes, I’ll admit, there was a moment. A moment. Nothing real.
Maybe my pants got tight. Maybe I thought about tasting Rae’s lips. I let myself think it might happen.
A second or two of weakness, that’s all.
Still, from the corner of my eye, I can’t help but watch as she sits beside her sister. I like the way she grabs her nephew and sits him on her lap, and how much he seems to adore her.
She’s close to her family. Really close.
How does that make any sense with the image Sawyer painted? The woman who let him drift away because she was more worried about herself and her own financial stability? The one who took his job for herself? The one who told him all the right things only to stab him in the back?
Where’s that Rae Montgomery? Because she sure as hell isn’t here.
Rae lifts her eyes up to meet mine, questions swirling in their depths.
I avoid her for the rest of the night.
When I get back to my house a few streets away, a shiny black car is parked on the street. I groan.
A tall, salt-and-pepper-haired man gets out of the driver’s side door and stands there, waiting for me. He’s an inch or so shorter than me, but age hasn’t rounded his shoulders. He stands upright in his expensive, tailored suit, watching me approach.
“Benji.”
I walk by him, heading for my front door. The lawn is overgrown. I’ll have to mow it tomorrow.
“Benji,” he repeats.
“What?” I stop, spinning on my heels.
My father is in the driveway in front of me, his arms hanging loosely by his sides. Drawing his brows together, he looks at me pleadingly. Pathetically.
“Will you talk to me?”
“I don’t see why I should.” I cross my arms.
Ben Cartwright Sr. takes a deep breath, and a part of my resolve weakens. My mother named me after him, but he still walked away. He abandoned us. Turned his back on us when we were just kids.
But as he’s standing here, pain etched across his features, I almost relent. It’s hard to hate someone when they look like they’re suffering as much as he is.
I blame Rae. She got in
