Torn (Connections #2)(101)

When I send her to our room and tell her I'll be right behind her, she looks at me like I have three heads.

"What?" I ask.

She narrows her eyes at me then heads down the hallway, throwing over her shoulder, "River, I know you're up to something."

I just shake my head. She knows me. I am up to something, but nothing big. Tomorrow is going to be a tough day for her so I want to shower her with my love and just be with her, letting her know she's everything to me. We went through a rough spot. For a long time I was never sure if I would have been her first choice, and doubt shadowed me. When Ben came back that doubt no longer shadowed me-it loomed large, almost haunted me. My guilt over the things I knew-what I couldn't tell her, what I should have told her the first time I figured it out-sent me over the edge. Every time she saw him it tore me to shreds. I wanted her to choose me but not because of what he did. When I got home that morning after I'd stormed out and read her note-I knew she'd always been mine. 

The last few weeks were just as tough but for a different reason-she lost someone again and her pain rips through me. I want to make it go away, make everything right for her, but I know all I can do is be here. So I am. I've kept her busy, mostly delving into our new business. We've got the wheels in motion and I'm hoping before the end of the year to bring on our first client. Of course, my stepfather's knowledge of the business has helped tremendously. Dahlia and I have spent a lot of time over there seeking advice and developing our strategies.

It's amazing how well Dahlia and my mom get along, and although I know she's not looking for someone to take Grace's place, I think she finds comfort in their friendship and honestly so do I. She seems to need a mother figure in her life, and I get it. I've had Xander to help me with what was missing from my life when my father died; my mom had her sister to take care of her when their parents died, but Dahlia only had him . . . Ben. I can say his name now. I no longer view Ben as anything more than someone from Dahlia's past and I can live with that.

Thinking about the two women who mean everything to me, I can't help but notice how very much alike they actually are. It's not just the tragedies they have endured, but the unconditional love they both give to those around them.

Smiling, I open the refrigerator and grab the bottle of champagne and the huge bowl of strawberries I snuck in there earlier. Then I take two glasses out of the cupboard and manage to bring it all to our room. I can hear music playing as I approach the door. It's partially closed and when I open it my jaw drops as I step inside. She's wearing a lacey white number slit up the front and she looks like an angel. "God, you look incredible," I tell her, biting my lip to stop from smiling the biggest grin ever. She's the sexiest thing I've ever seen in or out of clothes and what she's wearing now makes me want to skip everything I have planned.

She cocks her head to the side and she breaks into a grin that takes my breath away. "Come here, so I can love you."

Grinning back at her, she doesn't have to ask me twice. I set my stuff down on the dresser and stride over to her. Embracing her, I run my hands down her silhouette and tell her, "You're the most beautiful creature I have ever seen."

She looks at me. "Creature?"

I shake my head.

"That doesn't sound beautiful," she mumbles.

"It is," I whisper against her lips. I can't even explain to her what I see when I look at her. I must look at her a hundred times a day and each time I find something else, something more beautiful, than the last time I looked. It's not just her physical beauty that captivates me. Honestly, I don't care if she's wearing a ball gown or sweatpants; her beauty is all of her-it's who she is. And I want to spend the rest of my life looking at her, pulling her to me, loving her. I will spend the rest of my life doing all of those things-of that, I have no doubt.

Sliding my hands around the small piece of fabric she's wearing, I nip at her lip. She smiles and tries to catch my mouth with hers, but with each passing minute my body throbs with anticipation. She lifts the hem of my T-shirt, pulling it over my head and I don't waste a second before pressing my bare skin to her. I can never get enough of her. I want her in every way. I don't even know if she realizes how much I want her-no, not want, how much I need her.

My hands skim the lace on her backside and I press her closer to me. We're both breathing pretty heavily by the time she steps back and bats her eyelashes. "Maybe you could offer a girl a drink before trying to seduce her."