Melting Into You (Due South Book 2) (39 page)

Until Kezia got up and walked out of Due South.

That, he registered.

Ben ducked around the
mic and threaded through the tables toward the exit, ignoring the smattering of applause.

“Ben!” West stepped out from behind the bar and body blocked him. “Let her go.”

His jaw clenched. “No, I bloody well won’t.”

“Don’t make me kick your ass, Harland. You’ve a
lready made a helluva scene.” West gripped his arm. “Come into to my office, and I’ll buy you a beer.”

Ben wrenched away, his blood pressure spiking. “I don’t want another beer, West, and I don’t need a fuc
king pep-talk. I’m going after Kez.”

“If you go after her in this state, you’ll screw up any chance you might have left.”

“I’m not drunk, asshole.”

“Not that sort of state. Do yourself a favor and get your righteously un-drunk self to my office. Take fi
fteen minutes to cool off.”

He glowered, but West didn’t balk. Ben was bigger, but West was demon fast with a mean left hook. Much as he’d love to work off the frustration, pounding
on his best mate wouldn’t help.

Yeah, okay, maybe he had intended going all Nea
nderthal on Kezia and dragging her to his house. The idea had merit, since Shaye was already at Kezia’s place minding the girls on their weekend sleepover. But, damn. West was right—and it irked. Going after Kezia full of hurt and temper wouldn’t end well.

“Trust me. Fifteen minutes,” West said.

With gossip spreading like an airborne plague, hiding out in West’s office seemed practical. Until, at least, he could come up with plan B. As his mate, John Lennon, once said, “Everything will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.”

Ben turned and stalked through the whispers and speculation to West’s office, slamming the door behind him.

He and Kezia hadn’t reached the end, not while he was still breathing.

Chapter 19

Kezia limped inside her darkened house. She stripped off her ruined pantyhose and removed a pellet of gravel from her foot. Desperate to get far away from Ben, she’d kicked off her high-heeled boots on the road outside Due South and speed-walked home by the tiny light on her keychain.

Floorboards creaked under her bare toes as she dumped the pantyhose into the trash can and walked into the kitchen. The clock ticked loud enough to echo in the house’s stillness, but no muffled giggles came from the hallway. Shaye must’ve gotten the girls to bed early, and
please God, let Shaye be snuggled up in her room with her Kindle.

The kitchen lights blazed to life, and Kezia flung up a forearm.
Maledizione
!

“Welcome home, Cinderella,” Shaye said.

Her friend leaned against the wall, fingers tapping an impatient beat on her biceps. Hard to take someone seriously with a towel-turbaned head and a fuzzy yellow robe, but Shaye managed to look both furious and mafia-deadly.

“Why did you run away from him,
Kez?”

“Oh. You heard.” She’d forgotten about Piper’s presence at Due South. And if Piper hadn’t texted her sister, there were half-a-pub of other locals willing to broadcast her embarrassment and disguise it as concern.

“Everyone has by now.”

“I’m so embarrassed.”

Kezia glanced at the bright rectangles thrown out of the kitchen window onto the front porch. Light streaming out of her house would be a beacon for Ben to come and convince her to be his regular booty call. She jerked the drapes shut. Better. Less obvious, anyway.

“You’re embarrassed?” Shaye moved away from the wall and sat at the dining table. “What about Ben?”

Ben
. Who knew the man could actually sing? And to sing in front of a pub full of people, it must’ve been excruciating for him. When his voice swept over her like rough silk, her limbs had melted. He’d meant every word about wanting her back, and so, she couldn’t bear to look at him. She’d chosen to run rather than face the danger of falling into his arms.

“He’ll get over it.” Kezia leaned against the counter, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. Even thinking about his voice caused goose pimples to pebble her skin.

“Ben sang his guts out telling you he loved you, and you walked away. He will not get over it—and he won’t get over you.”

“He didn’t tell me he loved me…then, or ever.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake. Are you kidding me?” Shaye unwound the towel and shoved her fingers through her hair. “It’s obvious to anyone with a few brain cells to bang together that Ben is big-time in love with you.”

“It’s not obvious to me.”

“The man brings you J.D. Robb, cleans the crap out of your gutters, and sings you a love song without being falling-down drunk—it’s as good as sky-writing his intentions in fifty-foot-high letters! He’s never once said, ‘I love you, Shaye.’” She faked a baritone rumble. “But would he tackle a Great White for me? Abso-bloody-lutely. Ben loves me, he loves his family, and he loves you. You’re just too much of a chicken—no—
a coward
—to love him back.”

“I do love him,” Kezia said in a small voice.

“Then why use such a pathetic excuse to keep him at bay? Oh, woe-is-me, Ben—who you know is verbally stunted when it comes to emotions—hasn’t said those three little words. Does it mean he’s only after easy sex without commitment?”

Kezia flushed at the vehemence in
Shaye’s tone. “There’s more to it than Ben not saying those three little words.”

“Marci.” Shaye shook her head and sighed. “You said he wanted to sort that particular Chernobyl-sized mess out himself?”

Kezia nodded, her stomach flip-flopping again.

“Hon, you do
realize that’s what he’s done for everyone he loves since Dad died?
He
takes care of
them
. He doesn’t know his way around relationships and how you’re meant to make these big life-altering decisions
together
, because the big oaf has never been in love before.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Uh-huh.” Shaye nailed Kezia with her best sous-chef stare—powerful stuff, being the recipient of it. Shaye could, and had, reduced a server to tears with one silent glance.

Another Harland trait. Just thinking about Ben’s beautiful eyes m
ade her stomach go all quivery.

“The night Zoe got sick? Marci threatened to leave with Jade first thing in the morning.”

“She—” Kezia licked lips the same texture as sun-baked beef jerky. “She did what?”

“I overheard Marci saying she wanted to leave the next day if Ben went to the hospital. But he still insisted on accompanying Zoe, because she was his responsibi
lity.”

She pounced, a drowning woman clutching at small chunks of driftwood. “Hah—responsibility! He only felt
responsible
for Zoe.”

“In Ben-speak, that means he loves her, you delibe
rately obtuse, stubborn woman.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Marci’s threat b
efore?”

“You clammed up and refused to discuss it! Besides, I thought you’d have a little more faith in the man you claim to be in love with.”

Yes—direct hit. All the accusations she’d hurled at Ben in her kitchen, about him not coming to her and opening up? She was just as guilty. She’d spent nights with her hand clamped to her mouth so no one else would hear her sob out her loss. The root of distrust festering deep inside her wasn’t Ben’s fault.

“Why risk losing Jade after going to such extremes to keep her? I don’t understand.”

Shaye stood and picked up her towel. “Ask yourself that, and when you know the answer? Figure out what kind of person you are. Stubborn and cowardly, or the friend I know—a loyal, brave woman with a heart big enough to hold the Pacific Ocean.”

“Yes, Dr. Phil.”

“Go to bed, Kez. Sleep on it, and I’m sure by morning you’ll figure out what to do.” Shaye strolled from the room.

Kezia fussed with the drapes again, wiped down the bench, and straightened the dishtowel, all the time ears straining for the sound of footsteps on the road outside. The night remained breathless and silent. With a sigh, she switched off the lights and felt her way down the
hallway. A strip of light glowed under Zoe’s door—her nightlight—and Kezia paused, listening to the soft rustles and sighs of the girls sleeping.

Did she believe Ben loved her? Was she brave enough to love him the way he deserved to be loved? To gamble that he wouldn’t let her down? Suddenly, taking a chance on a man who’d risk losing his little girl to be there for her didn’t seem like much of a ga
mble. Kezia continued down the hall to her bedroom and her empty, empty bed. A bed she didn’t want to spend another night in alone.

Shaye was right. Things would look different in the cold light of day.

***

Kezia Murphy dreamed early one winter morning.

Not an inspirational dream or a bizarre combination of fleeting images jumbled into meaningless nonsense. But a lovely dream, a Technicolor extravaganza involving Stewart Island’s seriously hot dive tour operator.

He kissed her forehead while she lay cradling a swaddled new-born in a hospital bed, Zoe and Jade gi
ggling beside them.

“I love you, sweetheart,” Dream-Ben said.

“We love you, Mamma,” Dream-Zoe and Dream-Jade chorused.

A nurse rapped on the hospital door and chirped, “Visiting time is over, Harland family.”

Damn busy-body, Kezia wanted to unwrap the baby and show Ben how gorgeous their little—

The rapping from her dream merged with the knoc
king on her French doors.

“A little longer, please—” The words slipped from her mouth and blew away the remnants of the dream.

Her eyes popped open, focusing on the empty pillow and un-rumpled duvet next to her.

Alone.

More knocking.

Kezia sat up. Drapes hid her early-morning intruder. A quick glance of her watch revealed it was before se
ven. She slid out of bed, stuffing her feet into her slippers and hurrying across the floor. Yanking open the drapes, Kezia whispered Ben’s name.

There he was, big and bad, his larger-than-life bulk blocking out the weak morning sunshine. Dressed in a grey marl Henley and his usual faded jeans, which hugged all the places a woman liked to see hugged, he balanced a covered plastic container on his hip.

Ben’s eyes locked with hers through the glass. He didn’t speak, and neither did she. If she closed the drapes again, would he leave? Would he give up on her and walk away?

One dark eyebrow rose. “I know where you hide your spare key. If you shut the curtains, I’m just
gonna go get it. I’m not walking away.”

What, was he psychic now? Kezia frowned and u
nlocked the French doors, moving aside so he could enter.

Immediately, her room became smaller—she
felt
smaller—and waaay out of her depth. He looked so good, smelled so good, she wanted to scale him like a tree—then shout timber and topple him to her bed.

Ben placed the container on her dressing table.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. Crickets would chirrup any second, the silence was so deafening. “I’m sorry I ran out on you last night, that I embarrassed you.”

A muscle flickered in his jaw. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I don’t care about being embarrassed if it means you’ll talk to me again.”

The rawness of his voice caused shivers to multiply beneath her pajama top. Pajamas? She couldn’t have this conversation in saggy flannelette and slippers! She cut a glance sideways to her robe hanging on the door.

“I miss your voice.”

Pajama worries slipped from her mind. “I thought you didn’t like women blathering on.”

He exposed a flash of white teeth with his wicked smile. “You don’t blather,
Kezzy.” The smile faded, his brown eyes gleaming with intensity. “And there’s nothing I’d rather hear about than how your day went, or your plans for the girls’ next outing, or how your brothers would love to go fishing with me. So long as I get to hold you while you’re talking.”

She swallowed, gaze fixated on his long, dark las
hes.

“I miss your voice,” he said. “I miss
you
. I screwed things up so badly, and then I choked on the words you needed to hear—”

Her
slippered feet flew, and Kezia flattened herself against Ben, fingers digging into the warm bulges of his biceps. “You don’t need to say anything. I’ve been so stubborn, so unreasonable…”

So terrified of giving him all of her heart, all of her trust. Instead, she’d proudly expected him to flay hi
mself open. Who said Ben should verbalize his feelings first? After everything he’d done for her and Zoe, she knew he loved her. She could’ve thought a bit harder about why he’d behaved the way he had, instead of crucifying him in her mind for what he’d seen as the
right thing to do
in a no-win situation. She could’ve swallowed her pride and told him she loved him too. That she’d always love him.