Page 20 of Only by Your Touch


  Ben couldn’t think what to say, except that it looked to him as if the self-defense lessons had failed her when she needed them most.

  “Get in, okay? We’re sitting in the middle of the highway.”

  She finally climbed in the truck. Ben reached across her to push at the grocery sacks and make sure her belt was fastened. At the graze of his hands at her waist, she flinched and sent him a wary look.

  After joining her in the cab, he cranked up the heater, not because it was all that nippy, but because she was still shaking so hard. She made a grateful sound and held her trembling hands to the vent. “Ah, thank you, Ben. I don’t know why I feel so frozen.”

  As the truck rolled forward, he asked, “Are you sure you’re all right? Do I need to take you to the hospital?”

  “I don’t think a hospital is necessary.”

  If she was in shock, she might not realize how badly she was hurt. He couldn’t see any more blood, but that didn’t mean she had no other injuries. “Chloe, did he—you know—hurt you?”

  She tugged her blouse together. “I’ve survived worse. He didn’t rape me, if that’s what you’re asking. I shoved his nose gristle into his brain and got away from him.”

  Ben hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until it came whooshing out of him. “Thank God you’re all right.” He waited a beat. “Who did this, Chloe?”

  If she heard the question, she chose to ignore it. “I’m plotting his demise. Something slow and extremely painful. You got any treacherous ideas?”

  He knew then that she was going to be okay. He increased speed and shifted to third. Yeah, she would be okay. He just wasn’t sure he would be. Emotions were pelting him like scatter spray from a shotgun. “Before I plot a man’s murder, I like to know his name. Will you share that with me?”

  She cast him a shadowy look. “I’d just as soon not. I’m afraid you’ll do something stupid.”

  “I never do anything stupid.”

  “I’m all right. That’s the important thing, Ben.”

  He wasn’t so sure about that.

  Chloe found herself wedged between the truck door and three grocery bags. She shifted, relieved to be reasonably comfortable, protected from the chill night air and finally off her feet.

  “I’m sorry about the lack of space,” Ben said.

  “I didn’t know we had an all-night supermarket in Jack Pine.”

  “Don’t. They lock up at one.”

  Chloe let her head fall back and closed her eyes. She felt oddly disconnected from reality, due, in part, to exhaustion, she felt sure. Now that her adrenaline levels were dropping, she realized she hurt all over. Her feet ached, the gouge on her chest stung, and her breasts throbbed where Bobby Lee had dug in his fingers. She shuddered at the memory. Where did he get off, thinking he could treat a woman like that?

  “Need to talk about it?” Ben asked softly.

  Chloe lifted her lashes and let her head loll sideways to look at him. “Right now, I’m just enjoying getting warm.” She almost added that it felt good to feel safe, too, but the thought, coming to her through a web of muddled perceptions, seemed vaguely alarming. She still knew so little about Ben. “Thanks for giving me a lift.”

  In the green glow from the dash, his sharply chiseled countenance gleamed like seasoned oak rubbed to a high sheen. “You’re very welcome,” he replied, his voice pitched low.

  A short time later, he pulled into her driveway, killed the engine, and turned off the headlights. In the sudden silence, his voice moved around her like warm smoke as he asked yet again, “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

  Chloe laughed shakily, the sound brittle and forced. “I came very close. I can’t really say I’m okay. Tomorrow, I’ll feel better. Right now, I’m headed for the wine cupboard. Another glass of merlot should set me right.”

  She started to open the door, but he caught her arm. She jumped with a start even as she registered how gentle his grip was compared to the bruising pressure of Bobby Lee’s. “You need to fix your clothes and hair before you go in,” he reminded her. “You don’t want Jeremy or the sitter to see you like this.”

  Chloe hadn’t thought of that, which drove home to her that she’d given little consideration to the practicalities, period. Tracy would be very late getting home, and her folks were probably concerned. She’d have to call Frank and Mary Kay, then give the girl a ride. “I doubt Jeremy’s still up, but you’re right. I wouldn’t want Tracy to see me like this.”

  She pushed at her hair, fumbled with her blouse. “It’s no use. Maybe I can tug my jacket closed and slip past her to the bedroom before she sees me.”

  Ben huffed at that idea and leaned over to pop open the glove compartment. After digging through the jumble, he found a large safety pin. Without seeking permission, he drew the front of her blouse together, the fingers of one hand slipping to the underside so the pin wouldn’t stab her. Chloe’s lungs hitched, making her breath stutter up her windpipe. Coming so close on the heels of Bobby Lee’s attack, the touch of another man was unsettling.

  “Easy,” he murmured. “I’m not getting fresh, just trying to repair the damage.” In the dim light, his white teeth flashed in a grin. “Just relax.”

  For Chloe, under even the best of circumstances, that was easier said than done. His hard knuckles lightly grazed her throbbing breast. He went suddenly still, his shimmering gaze holding hers. The heat of his hand radiated over her skin until it felt almost hot, and a tingling sensation moved through her, taking away the pain. It was the loveliest feeling, like sunlight sparkling inside her. At the edge of her mind, Chloe was surprised. The physical contact should have made her heart leap. Oddly, though, she felt neither threatened nor nervous now. Instead she just felt wonderfully relaxed and yearned to lean toward him. He smiled slightly as he moved away.

  “Now for the hair.” He lifted a hip and drew a comb from the back pocket of his jeans. “Look at me.”

  “I can fix it.”

  He crooked a finger under her chin. “I know, but you’re still a little shaky.”

  He attacked her tangled curls, taking care not to pull when the teeth of the comb snagged. His gentleness worked on her battered emotions like a balm.

  “I love your hair,” he whispered. His mouth twitched at one corner, and even in the faint moonlight, she saw a twinkle enter his eyes. “All the curls, I guess, and that fiery copper color when the sun strikes it. Mine’s dull black and straight as a board.”

  Chloe thought his hair was beautiful—a glistening jet black that shone like polished obsidian.

  “I like your skin, too.” He stopped combing to grin at her. “If only we’d met a hundred and fifty years ago, I’d snatch you up, toss you over my horse, and ride off with you into the sunset.”

  Chloe could picture him—gloriously dark and strong, wearing nothing but buckskin pants and moccasins, his muscular chest streaked with war paint. “I would have been a very uncooperative captive.”

  He abandoned all pretense of fixing her hair and cupped her chin in his hand. “Pretty to look at, though. And worth the trouble, I think.”

  Chloe had never engaged in such a silly conversation. “You really are a little crazy, Ben Longtree.”

  “Maybe so. Probably so. I’ll definitely wish I hadn’t done this tomorrow.”

  Chloe knew then that he was going to kiss her. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. With the grocery sacks running interference, it took him a moment to close in.

  “Ben?” she whispered.

  His only response was a low, “Hmm?”

  Chloe couldn’t remember what she’d meant to say.

  Then, his voice throbbing in the darkness, he said, “Don’t be nervous. I’d never hurt you.”

  “I know. I just—”

  “You just what?”

  His dark face drew closer. His breath wafted over her cheek, smelling faintly of coffee and mint, a pleasant combination. “I don’t—it’s been a year and a half. I’m no
t sure I remember how.”

  He chuckled. “It’s like riding a bike.”

  “The last time I rode a bike, I crashed and peeled the hide off my knees and elbows.”

  “Ah, but this time, you have me here to steady your balance.”

  Slowly, ever so slowly, he bent his dark head and feathered his lips lightly over her cheek. The teasing caress made her breathing hitch again, and she forgot all about the mechanics. Suddenly all she could see, all she could feel was this man, and her thoughts scattered like chaff in the wind.

  He made her feel—oh, Chloe couldn’t think how to describe it. Wonderful. Ben made her feel wonderful. When their lips finally touched, she melted into the kiss, and her hands found their way to his shoulders, where muscles played in an enticing ripple of strength. Yet he was so gentle. Taking his time, he nibbled lightly at her mouth, tasting her as if she were a rare delicacy.

  Chloe’s bones felt as if they were dissolving, and it was all she could do not to cling when he started to pull away. He gazed down at her afterwards, his expression gentle. “When you go to sleep tonight,” he whispered, “take the memory of that with you into your dreams. Try to forget what happened earlier.”

  She realized then that he knew she was far more upset over the incident than she was letting on. She was touched that he cared but not really surprised. She was quickly coming to understand that Ben’s feelings ran deep and that he was sensitive in ways a lot of men weren’t.

  At the thought, Chloe put on her mental brakes. She couldn’t let herself start to care for him. When it came right down to it, she still knew very little about him, and he didn’t seem inclined to correct that situation by sharing information about himself.

  She reached for the door handle. “Thank you for the ride, Ben. I was a little farther from home than I realized when you stopped to pick me up.”

  “You take care,” he said softly. “And don’t worry about coming up to the ridge in the morning. Sleep in and rest up. What I don’t get done in the morning, you can finish in the afternoon.”

  She nodded and opened the door. “I may take you up on that. Sleep sounds really good right now.”

  After she climbed from the truck and slammed the door, he backed from her driveway. Chloe stood there to watch him drive out of sight, but he stayed on the road, waiting until she safely reached her door. She smiled as she hurried up the steps. Maybe she didn’t know all that she would have liked about Ben Longtree, but she felt sure of one thing: He never would have treated her the way Bobby Lee had tonight.

  Ben drove fast and crazily the remainder of the way home, not caring when the truck hit chuckholes and almost bounced off the road. He was in over his head and going under fast. At the outset, all he’d wanted was sex, damn it—mutually enjoyable and uncomplicated sex. He’d yet to come close, and now things were getting very complicated.

  He kept reminding himself there was no future in it and that caring for Chloe would only bring him pain, but his heart wasn’t listening. Why the hell did I kiss her? Now that he’d had a taste of her, he craved more. He needed to get his head on straight. If he didn’t, and damned fast, he was going to be so far gone, there’d be no turning back.

  Nan was awake and rattling around in the kitchen when Ben entered the house. Juggling grocery sacks, he stepped over to the security console to turn off the alarm, which he always set when he left her alone at night.

  “Hi,” he said as he entered the kitchen. Diablo came over to greet him. Ben set the bags on the counter and bent to stroke the wolf’s head as he took in his mother’s activities. “Mom, you know how I worry when you use the stove. Let me put this stuff away, and I’ll make the cocoa.”

  Nan shuffled over to the table and sat down. Her eyes never left Ben as he quickly emptied the grocery bags. When he turned to finish making her hot drink, she said, “You’re troubled about something.”

  Ben threw her a surprised look. It never failed to unsettle him when her mind suddenly clicked into gear. “Not really.”

  “Remember me? I’m your mother. I know when you’re upset.”

  Ben supposed there was a lot of truth to that. He tapped the spoon on the edge of the pot and laid it on the butcher block. “That’s a pretty robe.”

  Nan smiled and smoothed a hand over the embroidered yoke. “Don’t try to distract me.”

  The blue of the garment complemented her eyes. She was still a lovely woman, Ben thought. Sometimes when he looked at her—really looked—he wondered how his father could have taken her for granted all those years. Unfortunately Hap had—and he’d broken her heart a fair thousand times in the process. At some point, he’d almost killed her love for him. What a waste. Ben would have given his right arm to have a woman love him like that.

  “What are you so upset about?” she asked.

  The milk began to steam. Ben gave it another stir, removed it from the flame, and poured it into the mug his mother had set on the work island. “Here you go, madam. Anything else I can get you?”

  “This is lovely. Thank you. Now answer my question.”

  Ben turned his attention to preparing Diablo and Methuselah their nightly snack. “I’m not upset, just exhausted. For two cents, I’d hit the sack early and forget about working tonight.”

  “Do it, then. How long’s it been since you got a full night’s sleep?”

  “I’ve lost track.”

  She turned the mug in her slender hands. “I worry about you.”

  “Yeah, well, my deadline looms. I don’t have much wiggle room right now. Surgery on the bear took a big chunk of my time today.”

  “How’s he doing? Will he live, do you think?”

  “I dug out the slug, and I’ve got him on strong antibiotics. He’ll recover fine. It was just a hectic day.”

  She nodded. “You’re misjudging Chloe.” When Ben gave her a baffled look, she smiled. “She wouldn’t turn you in. She’s proved that, hasn’t she?”

  “I’m not still worried about her turning me in, Mom.”

  “What, then?”

  Ben closed the meat drawer. “How many wild pets can I conceivably have? I keep making excuses, and so far, she’s accepted them. But an excuse wouldn’t fly with a full-grown black bear.”

  “So you went to incredible lengths, building that travois and hauling the poor thing up to the cave? Why not just tell her the truth?”

  A tight feeling banded Ben’s chest. He avoided meeting his mother’s eyes. “The truth? I tried that once. It destroyed my marriage and damned near landed me in jail for the rest of my life. It was a hard lesson, but I learned it well. It’s best, all the way around, to keep some things to myself.”

  “Chloe isn’t Sherry, Ben. She’s got a heart of gold.”

  “Can we talk about something else?”

  “Your gift is beautiful, Ben, not something to feel ashamed of. I can understand your not wanting just anyone to know, but Chloe has become a good friend. She won’t tell anyone.”

  Ben held up a hand. “Mama, I love you, but you’re stepping over the line. End of discussion, all right?”

  After taking Tracy home, Chloe returned to the house, poured a glass of wine, and headed to the bathroom to disinfect the abrasion on her chest. After unearthing the peroxide, she unpinned her torn blouse, peeled back the silk, and froze in midmotion. Where was the gouge? She blinked, thinking maybe she was so exhausted that her eyesight had gone blurry. But upon closer inspection, there was still nothing there but a smear of dried blood. She drew back the other side of her blouse, thinking it might have been on her other breast. Nothing.

  Bewildered, she touched a fingertip to the streak on her skin. Then she tugged the lace cups of her bra away to check inside. Both her breasts looked perfectly fine, and even more amazing, they no longer ached from the brutal dig of Bobby Lee’s fingers. How strange.

  Okay—so where had the blood come from? She raised her chin to check her throat. Nothing. Stripping down to her slacks, she twisted at the waist to exa
mine all sides of her torso. There wasn’t a mark on her, not even a bruise.

  She remembered how Ben’s hand had pressed against her—the tingling warmth that had moved slowly through her. The burning and aching in her breasts had stopped then. What am I thinking?

  She needed to get a grip. There was a perfectly rational explanation. The scratch—or what she’d mistaken for a scratch—had been nothing but a smear of blood, which had undoubtedly come from Bobby Lee’s nose when she punched him. She’d given the jerk a nosebleed.

  She grinned at her reflection. Way to go, Chloe. Her brother Rob would be so proud of her. As far as that went, she was pretty proud of herself. Take that, you schmuck.

  Schuck—schmuck. Chloe giggled at the similarity. It was so good she almost regretted that she couldn’t go in to work the next night and call Bobby Lee that to his face. Good evening, Deputy Schmuck. Is it my imagination, or is your nose a bit swollen?

  Chloe released a big sigh of regret. Ah well. She’d gotten in a good lick. She turned off the bathroom light and smiled all the way to the bedroom. A nosebleed. Imagine that. He’d think twice before he messed with her again.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ben seldom drank, but he made an exception that night. After pouring himself a precise measure of whiskey from a bottle left over from Hap Longtree’s stores, he adjourned to the living room to sit by the fire. He thought of Hap as he took the first sip of liquor.

  The smell of the stuff almost turned his stomach. Disgusted by the memories that swamped him with each whiff, Ben tossed the remaining contents of the tumbler onto the fire. A whoosh of flame momentarily brightened the room, the fiery flashes of red reminding him of Chloe’s hair.

  Ben conjured a picture of her face, mentally tracing the delicate curve of her cheek and the stubborn tilt of her small chin. He particularly loved her eyes, all big and wary much of the time. And therein was half his problem, he decided. It was difficult to run scared when she obviously feared the feelings erupting between them even more than he did.