Melting Into You (Due South Book 2) (11 page)

The other competitors gathered around, heckling him. Ben swiveled and scratched his eyebrow with a raised middle finger.

“Amateurs,” he said.

“Better check Ben’s left hand is secure, ref,” Piper called from the front of the crowd.

The corner of Ben’s mouth curled. Kezia angled her weight backward to confirm Ben’s hand remained tucked into the back pocket of his jeans.

“Looking good?”

Kezia schooled her mouth into a neutral line. Drooling would be bad. Very, very bad. “Acceptable.”

More like
delectable
. The faded denim snuggled against the taut curve of his rear end. Not that she gave the shape of his butt any undue attention. She studied the iPhone’s screen, though the three columns of numbers could’ve been Arabic numerals for all the sense they made. “Just keep your hand there the entire time.”

“This won’t take long.”

“Siobhan will be disappointed,” she muttered.

Behind Ben, Noah snickered.

Kezia bit her lower lip. She needed to get this done and somehow maintain her immunity to the testosterone pumping off Ben.

She hovered a finger over the green start button, pasting on a broad smile. “All right ladies and gents, contestant number one is ready. On your marks, get set…go!”

Ben snaked his right arm around the mannequin, but his broad shoulders blocked Kezia’s view. The bra sprang free in six seconds and the crowd surged forward to congratulate him. Kezia jotted down the time on the clipboard Old Smitty handed her, then politely applauded with everyone else.

After accepting more backslaps, handshakes, and the odd lewd comment, Ben walked toward her. Her grip on the clipboard tightened with each step he took, until the wooden corners dug into her palms. He moved like a much smaller, lighter man. A runner or a gymnast—all coiled power that could switch from casual swagger to lightning-fast action in a heartbeat.

She licked dry lips as he stalked closer, a witty response swallowed by the slow burn kindling low in her body. Both English and Italian deserted her, and she simply drank him in. Too good-looking, too confident—too much of everything that eroded her determination to resist him.

Bracing her spine as he stood alongside her, she waited for the punch line or another double entendre.

But he said nothing.

Just gazed down with a small half smile. Which was another word for a smirk—a
baby, you know you’re impressed
smirk.

She fanned herself with the edge of the board. Did she need a reminder of why she hated Alpha males? After growing up in a home full of five bull-headed A
lpha brothers, no, she did not.

Ben’s arm brushed hers as he moved to let Noah past. Beneath her summery dress, her nipples puckered against her lacy bra cup.

Oh, no! Not again.

Kezia hugged the clipboard to her chest and closed her eyes.
Please St. Paula, let the clipboard base be wide enough to cover my boobs.

A soft, rumbling sound next to her—Ben chuckling.

Sweet Mother! Had she spoken out loud? A quick glance confirmed her worst fears unfounded. Ben stared blandly into the crowd, as if he had no idea how much his closeness affected her.

Honestly, she should ask the Patron Saint of Widows for more than boob coverage. She needed strength—brute strength—to resist either the urge to murder the
man, or the almost-as-terrifying urge to jump his bones until he begged for mercy.

***

Strapped into the horizontal bungee harness, Ben crawled another knee-length forward. He shook his head, flicking soapy water out of his eyes. One wrong move, one miss-crawl on the wet plastic, and he was a goner.

He risked a glance left and found Noah beside him, a feral grin carved on his face. Mates or not, Ben inten
ded to jam his marker stake into the field farther than the cop. Especially since Kezia, Zoe, and Jade had assumed pole position at the side-line, where they cheered him on.

“You can do it, Ben!”

Zoe’s high-pitched yell reached him as he hauled himself to within a finger’s reach of the plastic’s end.

Churned up mud and grass lay beyond the plastic, thanks to a few dozen other men who’d been keen to prove their strength earlier.

Eh. He’d played rugby in worse conditions.

“Go, Dad, go!” shouted another little voice.

Ben lost two feet and nearly dropped his wooden stake.

Holy shit!
She called him dad.

Ben turned his head. Jade jumped in place next to his mother, her sneakers almost touching the back
pockets of her jeans with each leap. Her face was split in two with a huge grin he’d never seen before. He barely recognized her.

She apparently noticed his frozen stare and waved her arms. “C’mon, Dad—move it!”

He didn’t dare look at Kezia. Maybe he’d imagined Jade calling him dad. Some kind of weird, hallucinatory experience after gagging down raw paua guts as a tie-breaker to the finals. His gut clenched—no wonder Joe and Rob called it quits after the first mouthful of the vile little mollusk’s innards.

Smarter and less competitive than him and Noah, for sure.

And the hard-nosed bastard had gained a couple of feet on him while he’d been distracted.

Ben surged forward, fighting the tension of the strong bungee cord and the slipperiness of his bare feet on the plastic.

“Move it, Hulk, or the cop’s gonna wipe the floor with you.”

Kezia’s voice cut through all other noise and nailed him. A direct hit in the libido.

Like hell he wouldn’t claim a kiss from Kez later—and in private. But he had to admit, this was more fun than he’d had in years. He made it onto the grass, thigh and calf muscles screaming.

Noah’s bungee had almost stretched to capacity. The big cop hunched forward on tip-toes and hooked fi
ngers, as if mimicking one of West’s weird yoga poses.

For all Ben’s brute strength, the slick ground worked against him. One of Noah’s feet slipped and he let out a rebel yell. He jammed in his stake, then hurtled bac
kward through the mud to the starting line.

The crowd howled like a pack of hyped-up hyenas.

“Tough luck, mate—you owe me a beer.” Ben inched forward another foot, digging in his fingers.

He concentrated on reaching Noah’s marker with the same determination and frustration he’d once endured deciphering the world of squiggles and lines known as “words.” The harness around his torso cut into his gut, and his shoulders ached, but in two more steps—

His feet skidded and his stomach dropped in a rollercoaster free-fall. He clutched the stake harder.
Oh, no you don’t, you bugger
. Not when his kid screamed his name over and over. One leg flew out from under him, the toes of his other foot arched, searching for purchase in slimy mud. He lunged forward with his right hand and stabbed the stake into the earth. A blur of green and black and blue swished past as the bungee flung him back to the starting line.

Winded, covered in grass, his body coated with stinky, oozing mud, he rolled over and stared at the endless sky. And laughed like a crazy man.

God—that was awesome.

Noah squelched over and extended a hand. “Looks like I do owe you a beer.”

Ben let Noah give him a boost upright. His gazed zeroed in on his marker—stuck at a forty-five degree angle—but a full half-foot in front of the cop’s. “Got your ass whupped, didn’t you?”

Noah punched Ben’s arm. “Yeah, right. You manly man, you.”

Ben grinned, shucking off the bungee harness as the girls skidded to a halt in front of him.

“You won, you won, you won!” Zoe thrust her fists into the air and did a little dance routine on the spot.

Jade gave him a shy smile and a thumbs up. “You look like a green and brown mud monster.”

She and Zoe giggled.

Ben swiped grass and muck off his face and flicked it away, then spread his arms wide. “How ‘bout a hug for the manliest man on Stewart Island, kiddo?”

Jade scuttled backward with a yowl. “No, Dad! You’re all dirty!”

“Aww. That’s not nice.”

Hearing her call him dad again dispatched a squirmy sensation through his gut. Not an unpleasant squirmy sensation—not like an “
Oh man, I shouldn’t’ve eaten those paua guts
” feeling, but a nice squirmy sensation. Like when the All Blacks finally claimed the Rugby World Cup a couple years ago. Or when his calendar was booked solid, and short of a disaster, he knew they’d be in the black by month’s end.

A flash of yellow triggered his peripheral vision and he whipped around. “Well, look who’s stopped by to congratulate me. Your mum’s just in time, Zoe.”

“In time?” Kezia laid a hand on Zoe’s shoulder. “In time for what?”

Doubtless he’d live to regret this, but what the hell…

“Winner’s hug.” If his grin stretched any wider, Old Smitty on the sidelines would see all of his molars.

Kez’s
eyes popped wide. She let go of Zoe’s shoulder. “Oh-no-you-won’t.”

She turned to bolt, and he snagged her wrist.

“Oh-yes-I-will, sweetheart.”

Her eyes sparked dark fire as he gripped her other wrist and towed her in.

“Ben!”

“Don’t you think your mum should give me a wi
nner’s hug, Zoe?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” shouted Zoe.

Before Kezia could wriggle free, Ben gave one last tug. She lost her balance in the slippery mud and fell forward. He wrapped her in a bear-hug, scooping her off her feet and pressing every wet, muddy inch of his body into hers.

“You are going to pay for this,
stronzo
,” she hissed, her lips now level with his ear.

“I’m counting on it.”

He turned his face toward her and rubbed his nose—his green-face-painted and mud-covered nose—up her pretty flushed skin, from jaw to temple. She squirmed, her hips pressing against the fly of his jeans.

A carnal twinge struck him right in the groin and his dick twitched. Hard.

Kezia’s eyes popped wide. Shock and temper were not the emotions flashing across them.

Ben lowered her to the ground, put some cool air b
etween his over-heated body and hers. Kept his smile fixed in place.

All casual like.

Actin’ all, nah, my heart’s not galloping like a racehorse, and honest to God, I wasn’t springing a boner.

“Mamma, look at you!” Zoe giggled and went to touch Kezia’s arm, then pulled her hand away. “
Eww.”

Glenna materialized in their midst in that spooky way mothers have. Her upper lip curled as she plucked at the damp, mud-streaked folds of Kezia’s dress. “Be
njamin Michael Harland! Oh my goodness—look what you’ve done!”

Kezia smiled tightly and stepped away from Gle
nna’s fingers. “The dress will wash, Glenna. It’s fine.”

His mother whirled on him. “What on earth were you thinking?”

He’d been thinking about dragging Kezia off to the little groundskeeper’s shed behind the changing rooms. Ben cut a glance over at her slitty eyes of wrath. Yeah, she’d guessed his thoughts weren’t on laundering techniques.

“Just claiming my winner’s hug, and since your granddaughter runs too fast, Kezia was next in line.”

“Winner’s hug? Next time you’re in need of reassurance, son, shower first!” Glenna sniffed and made shooing motions at him before turning to the two giggling girls. “Come on, now. Let’s go and help Kezia get cleaned up.”

“
Kez,” he said, as she too showed him her back.

She swung around, one eyebrow raised in a silent challenge.

“I’ll take you and the girls to Due South for dinner tonight. My shout, for being such a stronzo.”

“No, thank you. Zoe and I have plans.” The sex ki
tten growl had vanished. Each word stung like little hail pellets. “But I will need a babysitter for Zoe on Wednesday—if you’re free?”

He nodded. Reduced to a gauche, gangly twelve-year-old.

“Good. I’ve a day’s work to do before school starts next Monday.”

Ben stood dripping and chilled, watching Kezia walk away. His torso, where her curvy body had molded to his, was still warm. The smell of sunshine and spice lingered in his nose and the twisty gut sensation r
eturned. This time he knew what it meant.

Lust
. Lust, consuming and ruthless.

That’s it. That’s all. He slicked h
is muddy hair off his forehead.

Except it wasn’t.

Chapter 7

The throb of a loud bass pounded into the soles of her feet as Kezia slipped through Ben’s gate on Wednesday afternoon. She recognized the music as Zoe and Jade’s current favorite boy-band,
4Way
. No one answered her knocking, so Kezia opened the front door and stepped inside.