Jill Shalvis - The Street Where She Lives

Not that she wanted Ben instead.

Okay, maybe she did, secretly, extremely secretly. She’d have to have ice in her veins not to want him. But she didn’t want to want him, which in her mind changed everything.

“It’s time to get into town for your physical therapy appointment,” he said, checking his watch.

She hadn’t yet figured out how to get out of him driving her to her physical therapy appointments. Frustrated as they both were with the circumstances, those times alone in the car with him were far too intimate for her peace of mind. “I’m ready.” Gently, she pushed the puppy out of her lap. Her legs had fallen asleep in her stagnant position, and getting up turned into an exercise in futility and frustration.

“Hey, hey,” he said, rushing over, scooping her up when she might have slipped out of the window seat. “You can’t just do that, you can’t just move that fast, you’ve got to-”

“What? Not move? Not think? Not breathe? Well, you try it and see how fast you go insane.”

“Hmm. Grumpy again.” He carried her down the hall to her bedroom, where he sat with her on her bed, his back to the headboard. One leg on the floor, one bent on the mattress, he tipped his head up and closed his eyes, as if forgetting she was sprawled in his lap.

“I thought we had to go.”

“Yeah.” But his arms just tightened on her.

The puppy had followed them and let out a happy little bark.

“You can let me go,” Rachel said. “I’m perfectly fine-”

“Rachel?”

“Yes?”

“Please shut up. Just for a moment.”

Yes, but if she shut up, then all she could do was feel, and what she’d feel was the warm, achingly familiar strength of him surrounding her. She could get used to that, very used to that.

Too bad Ben couldn’t. “Look, you only came here because Emily called you. She said I needed you. But we both know what that was about, and I don’t think we need to discuss it further.”

His eyes were still closed, his body relaxed beneath his. “You’re right about that.”

“Damn it, Ben, I know you want out. I don’t buy the promise to Emily anymore. I don’t buy any of it, so tell me the truth. You want to go.”

He was silent.

“Ben.”

“Yes,” he admitted softly. “I want to go.”

She realized her hands were fisted against the hot, hard flesh of his chest and she jerked them loose. “Then why won’t you?”

“Because I did promise. Whether you buy that or not is up to you.” His voice was low and clearly angry. She’d insulted his sense of pride and integrity. Maybe later she’d stop to feel bad about that, but right now she needed his hands off her because they were bringing her body to life in a way she couldn’t deal with.

“Bottom line,” he said. “You do need me.”

“I have other people who could help me-”

“Like Adam,” he pointed out helpfully. “I suppose he could have helped you with your sponge bath?”

That closed her mouth.

His hands slid up her body to cup her head, turning her to face him. “I’m not going anywhere, not yet.”

Not yet. The words raced like a promise, a threat, through her mind. Not yet.

But he would go.

His thumb slid over her lower lip and parts of her body leaped to life, hoping for more. But she’d already kissed him. A huge mistake, as the memories of that particular kiss, combined with the memories of what could come after those mind-blowing kisses, were already keeping her up at night.

Ben Asher had destroyed her once in this lifetime, and once had been enough.

His eyes were on hers, letting her see his thoughts, and what he was thinking made her melt even without the kisses.

“Ben,” she whispered shakily as he lowered his mouth toward hers. “Doesn’t this terrify you?”

“You mean the way time stops when you look at me? Hell, yeah, it terrifies me. But then again, everything about you does, it always has.”

Another stroke of his thumb over her mouth, and her knees trembled. “We…can’t.”

“Can’t isn’t in my vocabulary…”

“Then I can’t.”

He froze at that. “You…can’t.”

“No,” she whispered.

“Same old story,” he whispered back. “Fine. You can’t.” With that he helped her up and into the car. The ride to and from the physical therapy appointment was interminably silent…and long.

Afterward, he insisted on helping her up to her room. He’d just helped her back on her bed, had leaned over her with a look on his face that had her hormones jerking to attention, when from below, the front door slammed, making them both jump.

Emily’s voice called out hopefully. “Dad?”

With a groaning laugh, Ben scooped up the wildly wriggling puppy who’d become frantic at the sound of her beloved Emily’s voice-and set her on the bed.

“Dad?”

Rachel closed her eyes to the happiness in her daughter’s voice, the happiness that had come from Ben’s presence, but jerked them open again when she felt Ben come close again. Hand on either side of her hips, he leaned in, brushing his mouth over hers, smiling a sexy little smile when her lips clung of their own accord. “Now that’s better. Did you know you lose your grumpiness when we kiss?”

Patches barked joyfully, right in their faces.

“Dad! Where are you?”

“We’re not finished,” he said softly.

“We were finished thirteen years ago.”

Still looking at Rachel, he called out, “Up here, sweetness.” When Emily danced into the room, he smiled grimly when she jolted to a stop at the sight of Patches in her mother’s room.

“Uh-oh,” she breathed.

Ben stood up and kissed Emily’s forehead. “Own up to your mistakes, kiddo. Always.” And then he left them alone.

“You, uh, found Patches.” Emily winced, resembling Ben so much it almost hurt to look at her at all. “Oops.”

“This is bigger than an ‘oops’.”

“Mom, she was homeless!”

“But you lied to me.”

“No, I didn’t. I never said I didn’t have a dog in here.” When Rachel just looked at her balefully, Emily caved and sagged to a chair. “I know. I lied by omission.”

“Yes, you did. Emily, a dog is a big responsibility.”

“I can handle it, Mom. I’ll train her, I’ll feed her, I’ll do everything for her.”

“Yes, you will.”

Emily brightened. “Then I can keep her?”

“On a couple of conditions.” Emily looked guarded again and Rachel wanted to touch her so badly. What had happened to her baby? When had she grown up and needed her independence so fiercely? Why did it have to be this way? “One, you’re right-you’ll train her, clean up after her and feed her.”

“I will, I promise.”

“You’ll also earn the money it’ll take to train and feed her by adding to your chores.”

“Okay,” she said, slightly less enthusiastic. Emily liked her hard-earned money. She liked it a lot.

“And three…” I love you, baby. “You won’t ever hide anything like that from me again. Deal?”

Emily stood up.

Rachel’s heart cracked. She was going to walk away. Be snooty. Be…distant.

But her daughter smiled, walked over and wrapped her arms around Rachel so tightly she could hardly breathe.

“Deal,” Em whispered and squeezed harder.

Which was good, because breathing was overrated anyway. Rachel blinked away tears and hugged her back.

Patches barked in joy.

TWO DAYS PASSED while Rachel thought about what Ben had said, dreamed about it.

We’re not finished.

Adam had brought her some books earlier, but neither they or Adam himself had been able to hold her full attention. When Garrett had come by with her mail, she’d been able to do little more than smile her thanks.

Her thoughts were concentrated on one thing, and one thing only. Ben.

We’re not finished.

Sleepless late one night, she grabbed her cane and hobbled down the hall, ignoring the pain in her leg from overuse. She was tired of the wheelchair. Tired of not moving under her own steam.

Tired of everything, she had to admit.

She was ready to get better, and refused to understand what was taking so long.

In Emily’s room, she watched the moonlight dance across the bed. Beneath the covers, her precious daughter sighed in her sleep. On top of the covers at the foot of the bed slept Patches.

God, she missed this, coming in here to kiss Emily good-night. With a little smile she turned in a slow circle, taking in the comfortable disaster that was Emily’s room, grateful to be able to touch the slim sprawled-out form. She straightened the wildly strewn covers the best she could with her one good arm, inhaling the smell of bubblegum-scented shampoo and soap, looking at the mess that never ceased, the laptop that was open and-

Open and online. Moving closer in the dark, Rachel sighed, the smile gone. She turned to the bed. “You’re not sleeping.”

She got a soft snore.

With a disparaging sound, Rachel shut the computer and disconnected the phone cord. “It’s late and it’s a school night.”

No movement, but at least the fake deep breathing had stopped. Rachel stroked the pixie cut sticking out of the covers and let out a breath. “Good night, baby. Love you.”

Still no answer.

She nodded to herself, trying not to hurt over that, and made her way back to her own room. She moved to the window with muscles that were now throbbing. It wasn’t just stubbornness that kept her from taking a painkiller, but the fact that she hated the grogginess in the morning. She’d rather hurt.

On the street below, a police car turned the corner. An unusual sight. Even more unusual, it came to a slow crawl right in front of her house. While she frowned, the officer looked the place over with what seemed like extreme caution. After a long moment, he drove on.

Unnerved, Rachel got into bed. Stared at the ceiling.

And worried that some crazed criminal was on the loose. No, that couldn’t be it. He’d only looked at her house, none of the others.

She wanted to talk to someone. She could call Adam-he’d come in a heartbeat. But he wasn’t looking at her as her accountant; he was looking at her differently now-no, wait. That wasn’t true.

She was looking at him differently.

And then there’d be the look she’d get from Ben if Adam showed up in the middle of the night.

And then there was Ben himself. Just down the hall, in one of her spare beds… It wasn’t talking she wanted to do with Ben. She wanted… Oh, boy, what she wanted.

Diversion, she needed a diversion and quick. Shaking, she reached for the phone. Mel. He sister had always said Ben wasn’t good enough for her. Mel always told Rachel about what a womanizer he’d become, how he never asked about Rachel, how he seemed so relieved not to have to deal with her.

Yep, her sister would talk her out of this insanity. She dialed as fast as her fingers could go.

“Hey,” said Mel in a breathy voice.

“Mel, thank God.” Rachel rushed out. “Quick. Talk me out of going down the hall and-”

“Leave a message, sexy,” Mel continued in a throaty murmur. “And I’ll get back to you, I promise!”

Beep.

Really bad time to be gone, sis. “Hey. It’s me.” She let out a shaky sigh. “Look, it’s no biggie, don’t worry about calling me back. I’ll just…” Rachel’s voice hitched, giving her away, damn it. “I’ll just talk to you later,” she added quickly, before she lost it, and disconnected. Then she curled up in bed the best she could, and did her best to fall asleep.

She finally managed, but not before the sun finally started its rise over the horizon.

Dear Ben,

Do you think you’ve paid enough?

Don’t stop watching, waiting…

I surely won’t.

FOR TWO WEEKS, Ben worked overtime-writing articles, picking small freelance pieces he’d never had time to do before-trying not to go out of his living mind. Every day that passed watching Rachel struggle to get on with her life, to get back to work, to be a good mom, to deal with his presence, killed him. During that time the various agencies involved worked overtime as well, trying to get a lead on Asada.

They traced the hit-and-run car to the previous owner. The guy’s story was that he’d deserted it two months ago when the engine blew, but the truth was he’d sold it for cash to a couple of immigrants from South America who had no papers. He identified the men as the same ones on the videotape from LAX. It was now believed that Asada had never even stepped foot inside the States, but had his hired men do the deed.

Ben held his latest letter from Asada. Through the paper, he could feel the hatred, and knew he would be staying in South Village for some time to come, stifling or not.