Ben speared Rome with a steely glare. “No comment?”
Rome took a step back, hands up, palms out, in front of his chest. “I know you’d die to protect her. That’s good enough for me.”
After giving Rome a clipped nod, Ben bent his head to whisper in Willow’s ear. Only he couldn’t resist and nipped at her lobe, making her gasp. He sucked briefly on the delicate tissue, knowing his breath would make the damp flesh tingle. “Dream of me. I know I’ll dream of you just as you were. All splayed out like a water nymph being worshiped by her lover.”
The little sound she made got him right in the gut. He took her lips one final time in a hard kiss. He needed a week with her, alone. No. Make that a month. Then maybe the sexual tension driving him to distraction would ease. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”
Willow licked, then rubbed her lips together, and, silently cursing their audience, he held back from the temptation to kiss her again. “Wednesday it is.”
But as she moved in front of him he did give in to one temptation, and swatted her playfully on her pert ass.
“Oh. What was that for?” Willow asked, one hand on her butt.
Ben grinned. “It’s too cute to ignore.”
She rolled her eyes and headed out with Rome. Joe trailed behind, his lips rolled in to keep his laughter from escaping, but Scott shot Ben a kissy face as he walked out the door. Ben retaliated by flipping him the bird.
Once they were gone he moved into the boys’ locker room to change clothes and to make a few phone calls.
Chapter Sixteen
If it weren’t for Ruth Gentry, Willow swore she would have died of sheer boredom on Tuesday. Sure, Scott had provided her with a laptop so she could surf the Internet, but within a few hours she didn’t even know what else to search for. The cabin had a TV but no reception. There were some movies along with several books on the bookshelf in the living room, but nothing held her interest.
Then Ruth had called, and whether the older woman was feeling sorry for Willow or truly needed the assistance, Willow jumped at the chance for companionship. A distraction. Anything to get her head out of the gutter and ignore the way her body was vibrating like a tuning fork. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. Okay, that was a partial lie. She knew she was highly aroused, to the point her belly felt like it was stuffed with a giant coil wound waaaay too tight.
By three in the afternoon Willow was stuffed full of salad, lasagna, and garlic bread. After popping in one of several movies Ruth brought, they tackled the wedding favors of candy kisses and Jordan almonds, sorting them into green netting that then needed to be tied with brown ribbon, for a hundred and sixty-eight guests. Also on Ruth’s to-do list were name tags that needed folding, placing guests names into cute miniature frames depicting their assigned table, sorting table decorations and elaborate place settings into separate containers, and on and on the list went until Willow’s head spun.
She made the decision right then she’d elope.
Scott and Joe made themselves useful as well, only until Ruth noticed they were eating more of the party favors then sorting them. With a stern lecture, Ruth threw them out of the cabin. Willow kept her head down so her grin at her bodyguards’ rueful expressions wouldn’t be seen.
At six Tess and Kaylie, along with sweet little Lukas, showed up and the evening continued in the same manner, though not as industrious as they all spent more time cooing and playing with the baby than anything else.
Too bad another nightmare wracked her sleep. The dream had started pleasantly enough: Ben holding her tight in his arms, nuzzling her neck as they slow danced at Tess’s wedding. Then it shot to erotic within seconds, as dreams do. She’d been clad in a mesh, green teddy, reclining in a sexy pose on a large, round, satin-covered bed while Ben strolled toward her with nothing on but a tiny white towel and a wicked smile, one finger twirling a pair of fuzzy handcuffs in the air.
Then came the gunfire and pain.
Willow woke with a jerk, chest heaving as she drew in air. She wiped impatiently at the tears streaming down her face. Instead of Officer Lee Jones taking several rounds to the back, it had been Ben.
She never fell fully back asleep after that, too restless and scared to allow slumber to take her. Then she’d missed Ben’s phone call while she’d been in the shower. Hearing his voice, knowing he was well and alive, eased her troubled heart. After reminding her of their date, he’d gone on to tell her in a thick, husky voice that he’d dreamt of her, of kissing every inch of her body, starting with her eyes, her ears, the soft curve of her cheek. He’d just made his way to her breast when a male voice interrupted him, causing him to groan as if in agony. One she replicated. Now she was restless for an entirely different reason.