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I shake my head and throw my hands in the air in disgust. “So, you just think you can waltz back here and announce that you want to bite my neck?”
“You know I’m not good with words.”
“I want to bite your neck isn’t even English, Ben,” I snap. “It’s fucking booty-call talk.”
He shrugs uncomfortably. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
“That’s what you said.”
He steps toward me and softly pushes my hair behind my shoulders. “I was just telling you the truth,” he whispers.
I stare up at his beautiful face.
He takes my hands in his. “I’ve thought about you every day, Didge.” His thumbs dust over the backs of my hands.
Tears threaten to fall. He has no idea how many times I prayed for this moment, and now that it’s really here it happens to be my worst nightmare. “Even when you were lying beside someone else?” I ask.
His haunted eyes hold mine. “Yes.” He pauses. “Even when I was lying next to someone else. You’re the first and last person I think of every day.” He tenderly tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear and then cups my face.
I blink to try to stop the tears.
“I was coming back for you sooner, but things turned out to be harder than I thought.”
“What things?”
“My work.”
“Fuck’s sake, Ben,” I snap, exasperated as I pull from his grip. “Speak English.”
“I want another chance.”
I frown as the ground rocks beneath me.
I shake my head. “You’re too late.”
“No, I’m not.”
I nod way too fast, as if trying to convince myself. “I’m happy, Ben.”
“I can make you happier. You know I can.”
The tears break the dam and I swipe them away angrily. “No! Stop it.” I shake my head. “Go back to where you came from. Go back to the girl who’s occupied your bed for the last five years when I haven’t. You had your chance and you blew it. You got one chance with me, Ben. You fucking blew it!”
I take three steps backward. I need to get away from him.
“I’m not leaving without you, Bridget,” he replies in his dominant voice—the same voice that brought me to heel so many times in the bedroom.
I shake my head in frustration. “You’re not leaving for where? I’m never leaving Australia, Ben. This is my home.”
His dark eyes hold mine. “Then I stay.”
3
Bridget
“What the hell are you talking about?” I sneer. “You’re not staying.”
He lifts his chin defiantly. “I’ve already arranged a job. I can start any time I want.”
I scowl. “What?”
“I’m working for Brock.”
My face falls. “Brock? My brother?” What the hell? Brock owns a private investigation company called Marx Security. He employs retired Marines and army personnel.
“Yes, your brother Brock. Which other Brock would I be talking about?”
“Since when have you spoken to my brother?”
“Every week for the last five years.”
I shake my head in disbelief as my hands angrily snap to my hips. “So, let me get this straight… you have spoken to my brother every week during your absence, but you couldn’t be bothered to call me once?” My anger starts to rise, and I don’t know which one of them I’m most furious at. Actually, I’m mad at myself the most for being such an idiot.
“How else would I check on you?”
“What the hell, Ben?” I yell. “You’ve been checking up on me?”
He nods and tries to grab my hands again, but I snatch them away. “Don’t touch me, asshole.”
“Bridget, calm down.”
“Calm down?” I yell. “Calm down!” I shake my head furiously. “I am way beyond calming down. Why now?”
He frowns, not understanding the question.
“Why did you come back now?”
I fold my arms as I wait for his answer.
He stares at me blankly.
I frown as a thought runs through my mind. “Did Brock tell you I had a boyfriend?”
Ben stays silent.
My face falls. “Are you kidding me? Brock called you?”
“Bridget…”
“Don’t fucking Bridget me!” I yell. Passing strangers look over at us, and Ben frowns.
“Keep your voice down,” he growls.
“I will not keep my voice down!” I yell. “So, my brother called you and said you better get back here because Bridget has finally met someone worth keeping, is that it?”
His jaw ticks, and I know that’s exactly what happened.
What a joke.
I step back from him because ‘furious’ doesn’t even cover it. “Go to Hell, Ben. I will never come back to you.”
He narrows his eyes. “Yes… you will.”
I shake my head. “You don’t care about me. All you care about is yourself.”
“Bridget.” He grabs my arm.
“Fuck off,” I curse as I pull away from his grip. “Stay the hell away from me!” I turn and storm off as the crowd parts to look at the psycho woman who’s screaming the place down.
I make my way outside and jump into the back of a cab. “Take me home, please,” I snap.
