My heart raced in my chest. God, I felt like an idiot that I didn’t have the slightest idea to these major life questions. These were nonnegotiable for me. My chest felt tight and achy. I couldn’t go through another breakup with Ben. My heart wouldn’t survive it. I felt like crying. I curled into a ball and hugged my pillow as silent tears streamed down my cheeks.
Damn it.
I wasn’t going to get any sleep at this rate. And my eyes were going to be all puffy for Thanksgiving tomorrow. I threw back the covers and climbed from bed. I’d get a glass of cool water, collect myself, and then get back in bed.
I crept down the hallway, navigating the worn pathway easily in the dark. I filled a glass with tap water and chugged it in the darkened kitchen before a noise from the living room caught my attention. Ben was stirring. Shit, maybe he’d never even fallen asleep.
“Emmy?” he whispered loudly. “Is that you?”
I rolled my eyes. He was going to wake everyone in the tiny trailer with his supposed whispering.
I put the glass in the sink and went to the living room. The soft glow of moonlight filtering through my mom’s lace curtains illuminated him on the couch, rubbing a hand through his messy hair. “Come here,” he whispered, softer this time. “I’m horny,” he said as he chuckled softly.
I knew I should head back to my bed but I couldn’t resist getting close to him. I sunk to the couch, curling into his side.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” He pushed the hair back from my face, looking me over in the darkness.
I wiped my cheeks by instinct, though my tears were now dry. “I can’t tell you.”
“Of course you can. You can tell me anything.”
“But . . .”
“Shh.” His hand cupped my cheek. “I already know, Emmy.” My eyes met his as his thumb soothed the skin along my jaw. “Our lives are different,” he continued. “Me being here highlights that. But I told you I’m going to win over your dad. And actually, I enjoyed hunting today.”
I nodded. “I know my parents like you already. That’s not what this is about.” God help me. Did I even have the courage to tell him the crazy thoughts running rampant in my mind?
“Emmy, breathe for me, baby.”
I pulled in a deep, shuddering breath, my lungs tightening with the effort.
“Tell me.” His tone was commanding but his gaze was worried and sincere.
“What’s your stance on marriage?”
He coughed. “Marriage?”
“Yes.”
“Ah, shit.” He rubbed a hand through his rumpled hair. “It seems like a fine institution.”
I was in too deep now. I decided to push on. “I mean, do you want to get married someday?”
“Is this your way of asking me where things are headed with us?”
“I guess so,” I said, my voice a weak murmur.
“Hey, look at me.” Ben lifted my chin until my eyes met his. “I want you. I want this. I’ve never had a serious girlfriend before, so I’m sorry if I’ve given you the impression I’m not committed to us—I am. And I know things with Fiona are f**ked up . . . but don’t question this.”
I swallowed. “I’m not. I’m just scared. I see my life—my future—and I want kids, a devoted husband. I’d like to live here in Tennessee near my parents someday.”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing visibly in the dim light. “I didn’t have the best example growing up. My mom never married. I haven’t really ever thought about it. Shit, I never thought I’d be in a serious relationship like this. Just give me time, okay?”
I closed my mouth, unwilling to press him further, and nodded. It wasn’t the exact answer I’d been looking for, but it was all he had to give. His hand curled around my waist and he pulled me closer so that I was pressed against him on the couch. His hands rested on my hips, clutching me firmly to him, and everything felt right. He might not have given me an answer my mom would be happy with, but it was enough. For now. He was willing to try, for me.
My heart rate kicked up and suddenly my body wanted more. More everything. More contact. More him.
I didn’t care that we were in my parents’ living room. I needed him. Wanted to feel his skin against mine. Nothing else mattered.
I pulled my T-shirt over my head and dropped it to the floor. My bare ni**les tightened in the cool night air.
“Holy shit. What are you doing?”
“Now I’m horny.”
“Baby. I was kidding before. We can’t. Your parents . . .”
“I need this. Please . . .”
“Fuck, baby. Don’t tempt me. You know I want to make you come.”
“Yes, please, Ben.”
Ben
Hearing her beg for it was too much. I needed her. Needed to get her off. But, f**k, we were in her parents’ living room. Anyone could get up for a glass of water or to use the bathroom, and then I’d be f**ked. Likely with one of those impressive shotguns pointed in my face. But my daring side was willing to risk it.
I briefly considered taking her back to her bedroom, but seeing how that was right next to her parents’ room, I wasn’t sure that option was any better.
“Emmy, we can’t,” I protested weakly as she crawled into my lap to straddle me. She pushed her pelvis down, wiggling in my lap, and I instantly went hard.
Fuck it.
I knew she felt it too because she released a breath, squirming against the hard ridge in my shorts.