Bennett (Bourbon & Blood #1) Page 4

  Staring down at the tiny shards of busted glass and plastic, Bennett cursed. It felt good so he said it again, louder. “Fuck my life.”

  *~*~*

  It had been two days since the accident. Mia had spent the first day after being released from the hospital dealing with her mother. Patricia's condition never really changed. Every neurologist, every specialist had a different opinion of just how aware Patricia was of what was happening around her. Mia had her own theories about that. Patricia couldn't respond, yet whenever there was turmoil or upheaval in the family, her mother would always have some sort of physical reaction. Seizures, blood pressure spikes, something would happen. Mia's accident was no different. Since then, Patricia had been having mild seizures with much greater frequency. Whether it was the bruises, the cast, she felt like her mother could see something in her present battered appearance that was upsetting to her.

  She was having to face the very real fact that until she was healed, someone else would have to care for her mother. It was causing more harm than good for her to be around her mother at the moment. There was only one course of action and that was to hire someone to help with Patricia’s care for the time being. In the interim, her soon to be former sister-in-law was helping out.

  To save her sanity, Mia had left the house. She hadn’t had a plan to start out with, but it didn’t really surprise her where she’d wound up. As much as the accident had been on her mind, her rescuer had taken up residence there as well. Bennett was just as dangerous to her as the accident had been.

  She’d cut through the woods, taking a path that was suspiciously well worn. It brought her out just to the right of Bennett’s house. She had a dozen reasons to turn around and just head back home, but not a one of them trumped the undeniable fact that you didn’t let something as monumental as someone literally saving your life pass without acknowledgement. There was another tiny, traitorous part of her that whispered insidiously in her mind that any excuse to see him was worthwhile.

  As she emerged from the dense tree cover, she could hear the sound of power tools and the low wail of country music coming from behind the house. Rather than knock on the door, she followed the noise.

  The double doors of the old barn turned workshop were wide open and she could see Bennett standing at his table cutting pieces of trim. He wore a plaid shirt, the buttons undone and hanging open over jeans so old and faded it was a wonder they didn’t just disintegrate into nothing.

  She noted the pieces he was working on, the intricately carved molding and trim work undoubtedly rescued from some dilapidated house. In the middle of the workroom was a large piano, keys missing, the entirety of it painted an unlikely shade of blue. She had no idea what it would be transformed into, but she silently acknowledged that his little sister, Savannah Hayes, and the store she’d created, Revision, were a raging success. Repurposed vintage and antiques along with fantastic architectural salvage had put them on the map and Bennett played a big part in that.

  He must have sensed her presence. While she was still standing there drinking in the sight of him, the power tool he’d been working with had been switched off. Only the low hum of music from the docking station filled the space. Glancing up from the broad and rippling expanse of his chest, she met his gaze and blushed.

  Silence stretched between them, taut and expectant. There were so many things that needed to be said, but most of them wouldn’t make a difference, she thought sadly. They were stuck on the course she’d chosen. Even though just looking at him set her heart racing, and being so close to him made her want things with a kind of desperation she’d all but forgotten, she couldn’t afford to let those things matter.

  Finally, to break the fragile quiet, she said, “I should have called but I didn’t have your number.”

  He removed his safety glasses and set them aside. “Why are you here, Mia?”

  She hesitated for a moment, uncertain of how to begin. She had questions and he was the only one who could give her answers. “I need to talk to you about the accident.”

  He sighed and then scrubbed his hands over his face. “Let’s go inside. I could use a drink for this.”

  Mia followed him up the steps of the back porch and through the back door. The kitchen was spotless, more from lack of use than his incredible housekeeping skills, or at least she assumed so. He reached up and grabbed two glasses from the cabinet and then pulled down a bottle. She recognized the label immediately. It was theirs.

  “I’m surprised you’d have that in here,” she remarked.

  “I might not have much use for your family, but they make damn fine bourbon,” he said as he poured a couple of fingers in each glass.

  Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of nails clicking on the hardwood floor. They increased in speed until the dog came hurtling into the kitchen, sliding every which way on the linoleum until it ended up in a heap at her feet.

  Looking down at the dark head and floppy ears, she felt tears stinging her eyes. “Slick? But, I thought… Daddy sent him to the shelter.”

  “I liberated him,” he said.

  “How?” she demanded.

  He just shook his head. “Someone told me what had happened and… well, you know I always loved that dog.”

  Mia smiled as she knelt down and nuzzled the dog, burying her face against his thick neck. He was older, the fur around his muzzle white with age, but God it felt good to see him. He licked her hands, her face, whatever he could reach, clearly ecstatic to be with her again. “Oh, I have missed you so,” she said softly. The dog whined back at her.

  “Looks like the feeling is mutual.”

  Mia rose but kept her hand on the dog’s head, rubbing his soft ears while he leaned against her leg and panted happily. It took her a minute to be able to utter the words, to force them past the lump in her throat. God above, the man made her insane. How could anyone be that good, that selfless? “Thank you for taking him, Bennett, for taking care of him.”

  He was clearly uncomfortable with the praise, so he handed her the glass and changed the subject. “So what do you want to know?”

  She took a deep breath. When that didn’t work to calm her nerves, she took a sip of the amber liquid. There was no burn. It was smooth and sweet on her tongue.

  “Did you see anyone at the scene? Any other vehicles?” she asked.

  “No. I drove up and saw the churned up mud and broken light covers where you hit the guardrail. If it hadn’t been for that—.” He stopped to take a sip of his own whiskey. When he continued, his voice was deeper, gruffer. “You drive too fast, Mia. You always have. You hit that curve like a bat out of hell. If I hadn’t come along, hadn’t realized you’d been on that road right in front of me, you would have died there.”

  Her blood ran cold. He said it so matter-of-factly. It was true. She knew that. But it didn’t change the fact that she hadn’t been alone on that road, and her car hadn’t gone into the creek without someone else forcing her over the edge. “I do drive too fast… but I only swerved and lost control because of the other car, Bennett!”

  “I know,” he said softly.

  “It was a big black SUV… I’m not really sure what kind. With all those bars on the front of it,” she continued on, not quite processing that he’d agreed with her.

  “The deer guard.” The words were supplied in an even tone, no censure, not disbelief.

  “Yes,” she replied adamantly. “I rounded the bend and it was parked in a way that it blocked both lanes!”

  “I believe you,” he said. “You don’t have to convince me that it happened that way.”

  She stopped then, drew a deep breath and stared at him in stunned disbelief. “You believe me?”

  “Yes. I saw the glass and plastic where your headlights got busted in… Directly in line with where your back wheels went over the edge. It’s not possible for you to have simultaneously damaged the front and back end of your car in a single car accident before the rollover.”

/>   “It was deliberate,” she said softly.

  “Maybe they just panicked,” he offered.

  “I need another drink,” she said.

  Bennett refilled her glass.

  “Someone tried to kill me, Bennett,” she stated it emphatically. “I’m not imagining that… they waited for me on that road!”

  “Why would someone do that, Mia? No one has any reason to hate you that badly,” he shot back before draining his glass.

  “You do,” she finished quietly.

  His eyes widened for a second in surprise, before narrowing in anger. “You come into my fucking house and accuse me of something like that?”

  She shook her head. “No. I wasn’t accusing you… I know you’d never do anything like that. But it’s true, Bennett… you do have every reason to hate me.”

  He settled back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, muscles rippling and bunching beneath the open plaid shirt. “I don’t hate you, Mia… I’ve tried to. I’ve tried to, every damn day of my life, and I just can’t.”

  She set her glass on the counter. Her hand was trembling too much to hold on to it. “Do you need to hate me, Bennett? Clearly whatever was between us hasn’t kept you from having a very active love life!”

  He leaned his head back against the cabinet door and stared up at the ceiling as if praying for strength, or possibly patience. “That’s not how it works. I wasn’t the one who stood you up.”

  She glanced beyond the kitchen and into the living room, where new and decidedly feminine curtains hung over the window behind the couch. “It looks like you’ve managed okay… You and Lacey.”

  His eyebrow shot up. “You really wanna go there? We haven’t been together for ten years! Should I have waited, Mia?”

  “No,” she said quickly. “And I didn’t mean it like that, Bennett! … Shit. Yes, I did, but I know I don’t have the right. I’m jealous and not just because you’re with someone else, but because…You’ve made a life for yourself. And… I’m still doing the same thing I was at eighteen. Taking care of Mama, handling the distillery tours and—.” She stopped speaking abruptly, the unfinished words hanging between them.

  The silence was heavy, laden with the anticipation of what went unsaid between them, the tension building until it was unbearable. It was Bennett who finally snapped. “And what, Mia? For the love of God, just say it!”

  “And thinking about you. All the time,” she replied. “At this point, I should be nothing more than a distant memory to you, and you’re on my mind all the time.”

  He smiled, but there was no humor in it. It was a bitter and self-deprecating twist of his beautiful mouth. “Not so distant. I see you in town. I see your car speeding up and down this road. I hear your name whispered by every gossip in town as I walk past them… People in this town remember everything. They remember us. And so do I.”

  She had memories of her own. His mouth on hers, his hands on her body. They’d been greedy then with the newness of it all, just a couple of inexperienced kids with more hormones than skill. Of course, Bennett was more experienced now, but more than that, the heat that burned between them then was still there. Dating wasn’t a part of her life. There was no time for it. Taking care of her mother and her job at the distillery, it was almost like time had stopped for her that summer. He’d gone on with his life, at least somewhat, and she was in the same rut she’d always been in.

  She’d made a glaring mistake in coming here and it was staring her right in the face. Panic hit, sinking into her gut like a twisting knife. Seeing him, being close enough to him to smell him, to touch him, it was an epic error in judgement on her part. Nothing in this world could hurt her as much as the man in front of her. The first time had been bad enough. To go through it all again when the outcome couldn’t be any different was just more than she could contemplate. “I should go,” she managed, “coming here was a mistake.”

  She whirled and headed for the door and was halfway there when he caught her. One of his large hands snaked out and captured her undamaged wrist, closing over it and tugging her back to him. “You’re right. I know you’re right… and I don’t fucking care.”

  With her chest close to his, her head just below his chin, his arms slid around her. It was like breathing, the most natural thing in the world. She leaned into him, savoring the heat, the hard press of him against her. “I cannot even count the number of ways in which this is a bad idea… There’s no way this ends well, Bennett.”

  “Never say never,” he advised softly.

  “Highly unlikely, then,” she amended.

  “Lots of things are unlikely, O wise one. Doesn’t mean they can’t happen.” His voice was little more than a deep murmur, his lips brushing against her forehead as he spoke. He held her gently, tenderly. It was something she’d missed so much it wasn’t even possible to put into words. Even then, the heat was there, arcing between them, taking on a life of its own.

  “Like what?” she asked. Her skin burned beneath his hand like he’d set her on fire. With nothing more than a touch, it raged for him.

  “You… standing here in my kitchen for starters.”

  “I’m blaming my lapse in judgement on painkillers.” The statement was flippant, but the quavering of her voice and the slight hitch in her breathing told the truth. There was nothing casual about what was happening between them. It was life or death.

  “Why is it a mistake?” he demanded as he pulled her a little closer to him.

  All the reasons fled along with the fear. With the heat of his body against hers, his breath warm on her skin, she couldn’t pull them to mind anymore. She could see the fine sheen of sweat on his skin from where he’d been working. Her breath caught as she looked up. His eyes weren’t locked on hers. Instead, they were locked on her mouth. He looked at her lips as if he wanted to bite into her and in that moment, she would have let him.

  “Mia,” he murmured. It was the last thing that was said between them. He descended upon her, his lips on hers as his hands slid upward to tangle in the fall of her hair.

  It was a gentle kiss. She didn’t doubt for a moment that Bennett was aware of every injury and mindful not to hurt her. That was just who he was. But as his mouth moved over hers in a kiss that was achingly tender, her body burned for him. When he captured her bottom lip between his, she melted against him. His arms closed around her, pulling her even closer until she was firmly pressed against the hard wall of his chest. She could feel him everywhere.

  Then his hands slid downward, cupping her behind, pressing their bodies even more tightly together. The blatant evidence of his desire was unmistakable and her body responded to it insistently. She wanted him. She wanted him with a desperation that she couldn’t even articulate.

  The dog whined then, butting his large head between them and demanding to be given the lion’s share of the attention. Breathless, aching, desperate, and more than a little embarrassed that she’d fallen so easily into Bennett’s arms, Mia backed away from him.

  “What are we doing, Bennett?” The question was anguished, reflecting the war that raged inside her between the desire to have what she wanted and the need to do what was best for everyone.

  “We’re doing what we want for a change,” he replied. “I don’t know why you bailed on me that night. I may never know… but there’s one thing I’m sure of, Mia.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Whatever your reason for not showing up,” he said firmly. “It wasn’t because you don’t want me—because you don’t want us.”

  Forcing herself to move away from him completely, Mia disentangled herself from his arms. She couldn’t think clearly when he touched her, obviously. “Wanting something doesn’t mean you should have it.”

  “That’s a fine rule for children… It doesn’t fly with me. I’m a grown man, and God knows you’re a grown woman. Nobody, Mia, and I mean nobody, ought to have a say in what happens between us except us.”

  “I have to go
,” she said, fighting down feelings of panic all the while fighting the urge to just throw herself at him.

  He smiled, that slow and lazy grin spreading over his beautiful lips. “That’s fine. I don’t think you’re up for what I have in mind, anyway. But mark my words, when you’re well, when the scrapes and bruises have healed, we’re revisiting this, Mia.”

  “What about Lacey?” she demanded, flinging the only ammunition at him that she had.

  He smile shifted, becoming more self-deprecating than amused. “Lacey and I haven’t been seeing each other for months now. You’re behind on your gossip.”

  Her lips parted on a surprised ‘O’. “You broke up with her?”

  He shook his head. “No. She dumped me. I gave her a ring and she said she didn’t want to spend her life with a man who would always wish she was someone else. Second time in my life I’ve bought a ring for a woman and wound up keeping it.”

  It was like a punch in the gut, that reminder of what they could have had together. “I have to go, Bennett. I can’t be here with you… I can’t think.”

  With that, Mia turned and fled, retreating to the small path through the woods. She left him behind, along with her beloved pet that he’d rescued and the last vestiges of hope she’d had that one day, she’d be over him for good. Bennett Hayes was a part of her, and he always would be. It would haunt her forever.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Bennett leaned against the door frame and watched her go. He’d pushed and she’d run. There was nothing new in that sequence of events, he thought bitterly.

  The thought had no sooner crossed his mind than he heard the sound of the front screen door slamming. It would be Carter, of course. He considered knocking to be an inefficient use of his time, or perhaps he was just so certain of his welcome it never occurred to him that he ought to check.

  “Dude, what the fuck?” His cousin’s query, without preamble or tact was typical.