Now and Forever (14 page)

He slowed down, dragging every second out of her pleasure. Her body went limp just as he thrust into her one last time, pinning her hips into the wall as he ground out her name and pressed his lips to hers.

Layla savored the feel of his warm breath against her mouth before he backed up slightly and let her slide down from the wall until her feet hit the floor.

“I missed you,” he said, pulling her against his chest.

“I missed you, too. Did you get done early?”

Ben shook his head and bent to grab his jeans and pull them up. “I have to leave at 3 a.m. to go back to the academy.”

“You came all this way just for a few hours?”

He shrugged. “Today I was a complete dick to anyone who spoke to me. I couldn’t wait another four days.”

“Ah. I guess you aren’t used to going two weeks without getting laid,” Layla said, picking her crumpled panties up from the floor.

“I needed you. It wasn’t about getting laid. You think I’m the one who controls you, baby, but you’ve got more power over me than I have over you.”

“Does this mean you’ve reconsidered wanting me barefoot and pregnant when we’re married?”

The corners of his lips quirked up slightly. “I’d prefer you in stilettos and pregnant.”

“As long as I was wearing the stilettos to the office with a nice suit.”

A flash of annoyance passed across Ben’s face. “I think we should hash this out when the time comes. For now, let’s focus on getting married. I want you to have the wedding and honeymoon of your dreams. Anywhere you want.”

“I’m not going into this knowing you want me to quit my job when we have kids.” Layla stepped back into her panties and glared at him.

Ben ran a hand through his hair and pulled his t-shirt off. “Can we please not fight tonight? Christ, woman. I taught a class all day and drove four hours to get here.”

“Don’t try to guilt me. You got what you came for.” Layla regretted her bitter words as soon as she said them.

Ben just stared at her for a few seconds before he pulled his t-shirt back over his head and picked up his coat.

“At least I came,” he said. “You’re too fucking proud to drive anywhere or even pick up the goddamned phone to try and work things out.”

“I don’t know how to work this out!” Layla hated the tears that pricked her eyes. “Don’t you think I would if I could? Only one of us can win this, Ben, and I think we both know it won’t really be a victory. I wouldn’t be happy if you were miserable, and I don’t think you’d be happy if I was. Actually, I guarantee it. I’d make you sorry you ever met me.”

“So either I cave or you won’t marry me?” he asked.

Layla crossed her arms across her chest. “I don’t know, Ben. I guess I need more time to think about things.”

“Call me when you want to see me,” he said, walking across the room and out the door without looking back. Prince limped over to the closed door, sniffed it, and sank down to the floor with a whine.

Layla curled up on the couch and pulled a blanket over her bare legs, wishing Ben hadn’t gone. Sometimes the fire in their personalities that drew them together also drove them apart. She’d be going to bed alone again tonight, and she wished she’d saved her sharp comment for morning.

***

In his first week of work at the bakery, Cole discovered that Emma’s cupcakes were crazy popular. They sold by the dozen in every flavor she made – chocolate, vanilla, strawberry and red velvet – until they were gone, which was usually by noon.

He was witnessing one the employees, Curtis, getting hassled over the lack of cupcakes right now.

“You said you’d still have some if I got here by lunch time,” a woman was insisting in a shrill tone. “It’s 12:25.”

“Right, but I meant before lunch time, which starts at 11:30,” Curtis said. “I’m sorry, would you like something else?”

The customer’s face twisted with aggravation. Cole stepped in next to Curtis and offered her a smile.

“If you’d like to order cupcakes for tomorrow, I’ll make sure they’re here waiting for you, ma’am,” he said. “What kind would you like?”

“We don’t take orders,” Curtis said, glaring at Cole.

“We will for this customer. What would you like?”

The woman’s face softened. “I heard you guys made apple cider cupcakes in the fall. Can I get two dozen of those?”

“Sure thing. Thanks for understanding about us being out today. I know you could just go somewhere else, and I appreciate your loyalty.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling and scanning the carryout menu.

“What if Emma doesn’t have the ingredients for those?” Curtis asked Cole, annoyed.

“I know what she puts in them. Just ring up the orders with a smile, chief.”

Cole walked back to the kitchen, where Emma was stirring a kettle of potato soup, her brow furrowed in thought.

“Can you make two dozen apple cider cupcakes for tomorrow?” Cole asked.

“Sure,” she said absently.

“You need a different cashier out there. Curtis isn’t very customer-oriented.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Emma’s dreamy expression faded. “I hired him to clean the lobby but then my other cashier quit and I asked him to fill in. I need to hire someone, but I just can’t seem to get out of the kitchen to do it.”

“I can do it for you,” Cole said, approaching her from behind and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Would you? That would be great.”

“Does Julie want to work some extra hours?”

“Probably, but I’m trying to keep my payroll down,” Emma said.

“I think you need to keep her over a couple hours and put her to work in the kitchen with you. I’ll be your kitchen help, too, after the lunch rush passes. If we make another 40 dozen cupcakes, I bet they’ll sell tomorrow.”

Emma sighed. “That’s a good idea. I always run out of cupcakes.”

“I’d also like to re-price everything from your suppliers, if that’s okay. It’ll keep them honest and maybe I can get you a better deal on a few things.”

“That would be good,” she said. “I’m not doing a very good job of managing this place.”

“You’re doing great.” Cole kissed her neck gently. “You get a great lunch crowd and sell out of food every day.”

“I really appreciate you being here to help.”

“I like it here.” He moved his lips to the back of her neck, which was accessible thanks to the bun she wore her hair in while she was cooking. Her skin was soft and warm, just begging to be kissed. He did so slow and easy, which always got her going. When he made it to the back of her ear, she moaned softly.

“I could really get used to this,” she said.

“Is this what you were daydreaming about when I walked in? Were you wishing I’d come take you from behind while you’re cooking?”

She laughed lightly. “No, that’s one fantasy I’ve never had. I was actually thinking about baby names.”

“For our Squirt?” Cole said softly against her ear. “Thought of any you like?”

“There are so many I like. And it’s hard to pick just one.”

“We’ll have more than one, don’t you think? How many kids do you want?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “At least two, don’t you think?”

“Yeah.” He rubbed a hand over the slight swell of her belly. “I love you, Em. Marry me.”

The door to the kitchen flew open and Julie stuck her head in. “I need that soup, more rye and more roast beef,” she said. Soup and sandwiches were prepared and served at the front counter for lunch.

“I’ve got it,” Cole said, reaching to turn off the heat to the soup.

Emma bustled to a wide stainless refrigerator to get out the lunch meat. She sliced up two loaves of the bread she’d baked that morning while Cole found potholders to carry the steaming kettle of soup.

The moment had passed. He’d have to try to persuade her to marry him another time.

“Have you heard anything new about the case?” she asked while she worked.

“I got a text from Grayson, but I’m not returning it. Any communication with him could hurt me.”

Emma turned. “Did you tell Ben? Or the detective investigating the case?”

Cole shook his head. “I’m supposed to meet with Layla tomorrow, I was planning to tell her then.”

He pushed through the kitchen doors to carry the soup out front. He’d never imagined himself working at the bakery, but he was enjoying the extra time with Emma, and it felt good to be helping her. Staying busy also helped keep his mind off of the case. Layla had bought all the time she could, and he had to decide if he wanted this to go to trial or not. Hopefully the information about Grayson that he was bringing to his next meeting with her would help his case. He refused to plead guilty to something he hadn’t done, but there was a lot on the line. What if he went to trial and was found guilty? He’d miss the birth of the baby while sitting in prison.

It was a nightmare he’d never thought he’d face. He hoped Layla was as good of an attorney as he thought she was. As much as he liked helping Emma, what he wanted to do was get back to the job that gave them the financial security to sustain the bakery. She’d come through for him when he needed her, and he wanted to do the same for her.

Chapter Eight

The banter between the detectives who worked under him was grating on Ben’s nerves. They’d chatted about what one guy’s wife had cooked for dinner and the blow job another one had gotten after work last night.

“Get to work, assholes,” Ben clipped. The laughter died down and the three men looked at him.

“Aww, Sarge, you didn’t get any last night, did you?” one of them asked, grinning.

“Maybe he did but his woman found him guilty of a shitty performance,” another one cracked.

Ben flipped them off and glared.

“You’d better be taking care of that fine lawyer in the sack or some other guy will.” The third officer gave Ben a knowing look.

“Get your lazy asses into the field and do some goddamned work!” Ben barked. “I’m not your fucking babysitter!”

The seats cleared quickly and Ben paced into his office. He’d gotten home from the academy last night, and his desk was piled with backed up work. But his mind was elsewhere. Layla hadn’t called, and after four days, he’d realized she wasn’t going to. He was itching to call her, but he wouldn’t let himself go crawling back to her yet again.

He took a deep breath and sat down to start catching up. He was an hour into signing off on reports when his door opened and Layla stepped in. His pace kicked up in a mixture of relief and excitement at the sight of her.

“Hi,” she said, closing the door behind her. “Are you busy?”

“No. It’s good to see you.”

She set a cardboard carrier with two cups of coffee on the corner of his desk. Fiddling with the cups, she seemed to be avoiding eye contact with him. Ben took in her dark, loose waves and simple white blouse. He was physically drawn to her every time they were in a room together. Just looking was never enough.

He stood and walked around his desk, pulling her into his arms. Burying his face in her hair, he breathed in the coconut scent of it mingled with her light, sweet perfume.

“I miss you, Ben,” she said. The vulnerability in her tone tugged at him. She sounded not just sad, but scared of the fact that she missed him.

“I miss you, too, baby. So fucking much. I don’t want us apart anymore.”

Layla wrapped her arms around his back tightly and pressed herself against him. “I’m afraid for us,” she said in a small voice. “I don’t want to lose you, but I don’t want to lose me, either.”

Ben pulled back and looked at her. “It’s not worth losing our relationship. I’d prefer a wife who stays home with our kids, but I’ll be the one to give in.”

She smiled but didn’t look happy. “It should feel good to hear you say that, but it doesn’t. I’ve been thinking about things a lot.” She let out a heavy sigh. “We haven’t even been together a year. We should’ve known things like this about each other before we got engaged. I don’t want to be married to a man like my father, who thinks he’s the provider and I’m the nurturer. I think we have a crazy good physical connection, and we’re mistaking that for the kind of love that sustains a marriage.”

Rubbing his jaw, Ben looked up at the ceiling. He was overwhelmed by the disappointment, rejection and anger coursing through him. “I can’t believe this,” he said. “You’re breaking it off with me? Over this?”

“
This
happens to be a very big deal.”

He stepped back and crossed his arms across his chest. “I think you’re full of shit saying it’s all about sex with us. I love you, Layla. I’d do anything for you. You’re the first thing on my mind when I wake up and the last thing on my mind before I fall asleep. And not just because I want to fuck you. There are plenty of women out there who are an easier lay than you.”

“We have big philosophical differences,” she said, leaning against the edge of his desk.

“One.”

She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “Even if it’s just the one, it’s a big one.”

“Do you love me or do you just love the way I fuck you?”

Layla gave him a sharp look. “You know I love you, Ben.”

“No I don’t. You just said what we have is purely physical.”

“Is it possible we’re wrapped up in that? I won’t lie, the sex is mind-blowing. You’re like a drug I can never get enough of. I don’t want that to cloud my judgment.”

“It should cloud your judgment. It goes hand in hand, baby. We fuck like our bodies were meant for each other because they were. It’s because I love you that I can never get enough.”

Her eyes met his and he knew what she wanted. She wanted him to grab her and fuck her right here in his office. Talking about it got her going every time, just like it did him. He saw her glance down at the outline of his stiff cock in his suit pants.

A physical need for her ran through his veins, hot and immediate. But he forced himself to put it aside. Touching her now would only reinforce what she was saying.

“What do you want, Ben?”

He wanted to bend her over the desk and fuck away the tension between them. “I want us to step back a little. Let’s stop having sex. It’ll give us both a chance to see what’s there when that’s not part of the equation.”

“But . . . you want us to still be engaged?”