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“Where are we going?”
He examined me for a moment. “We’re going for a drive.”
“I don’t think—”
“I wasn’t suggesting. Go put on a pair of jeans and tennis shoes.”
His command spurred me into action, even if my movements felt wooden and heavy, as if I was moving through viscous fluid.
“Where are Dan and the officers?”
“They’ve already left, honey.” Ben steered me up the stairs to my bedroom. But he didn’t let me rest. He made me pick a pair of jeans and shoes. Then helped me put them on when my hands shook too badly.
Once I was properly attired, he led me back downstairs to the garage and his bike. He grabbed an extra helmet and fit it over my head. “Tap twice on my chest if you need me to pull over,” he instructed, pulling the bike out of the garage and shutting it. He climbed on first and then jerked his chin for me to climb on board.
I slid onto the back of his bike. Put my arms around his waist. He was a solid, anchoring presence as he started the Harley. I leaned into his warmth, feeling the steady beat of his heart. He rolled us to the end of the driveway.
“Ready?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Yeah.”
“Good.” He nodded. And then we were off.
The wind raced over us on the gorgeous, nearly cloudless day. The hum of the motor vibrated through me. And the unyielding man before me was my anchor. He was hard and battle scared, but he was the most real individual I’d ever met.
I let him guide us. For once, not worried about where I was going or would end up. I handed over control of my day like pollen floating on the breeze.
He drove us away from the coast inland. I didn’t know where he was taking me. But in this moment, I didn’t care. I was with him. And as we drove further inland, the land around us changed from sub-tropical sand beaches to deciduous forests and mountains.
Until I recognized where we were. We were cruising along the Cherokee Foothills National Scenic Byway. The two-lane highway twisted and turned through the foothills with beautiful glimpses of the mountains in the west.
We stopped midway for burgers and cokes before he drove us further in a big loop back toward my house.
I saw the appeal of being able to get on a Harley and just go. The freedom it provided. And I can’t say I minded the day trip. It took me out of my headspace for a while. At least long enough so I no longer felt like I was having a panic attack.
“Why don’t you go take a bath while I get dinner going?” Ben said, ushering me back into the house.
“I need to—”
“Do as I say, babe. I’ve got this—and you. Just take it easy, and I’ll get dinner on.”
“But you don’t even know—”
“I’m going to put together something easy. Trust me.”
Because I felt sharp and jagged, even after the drive, as if I might lose it at any second, I did as he asked. “Okay. I need to feed Tater first.”
He cupped my face in his hands. “I’ve got it. Go. Bath. Now.”
I searched his face. Long gone was the angry man with raging grief who’d shown up at my door a few days ago. In its place was a man I could fall for if I let myself. And heaven help me, but I wanted to sink into him. I wanted to hand him all my problems and burdens because I knew he was strong enough to bear them.
I conceded. It was that or I would break. And I knew he sensed just how close to the edge I was. I might resent him for the handling later. But I didn’t have it in me at the present.
“Fine.” I left him standing in my kitchen and trudged up to my bathroom, where I tossed in a bath bomb and some bubbles.
And it wasn’t until I was in the bath that the day’s events caught up with me. I’d gone from the highest of highs in Ben’s arms to the lowest lows spying the photos. My emotions had been put through the wringer. Once I was seated in the hot, therapeutic water, I let go. Tears slid fast and furious down my face until I was ugly crying with my face in my hands.
I was just glad no one could see how brittle and breakable I was at the moment. And I’d bet Ben had known. He always seemed to know.
