He kept them up on trembling muscles, his heart a freight train in his chest. His mouth was on her face, her neck, her hair, as if he was loath to let her go.
She opened her eyes and met his. “Hey.” He pressed his lips to the tip of her nose. “You okay?”
She didn’t have a clue. “Yeah.”
He pulled out and eased her feet to the floor. “Let me...”
She nodded and turned away as he headed to the stall to dispose of the condom. When he returned he was tucking in his shirt while she busied herself in her purse which she’d dropped on the floor. “I need a few minutes.”
He leaned against the wall, big and dangerous and very sure of himself.
“Alone, Ben.”
One brow rose. “There’s nothing—”
Oh yes, there was. “Please, Ben. Just go and give me a few minutes.”
He studied her flushed face, silent. “We need to talk about this shyness of yours.”
She shook her head. “Go, already.” When he didn’t move she shooed him out the door, causing his eyes to light with laughter.
“Fine, I’m going. But I’m watching the clock, sweetheart.”
He could watch it all he wanted. She wasn’t going to move from this spot until she was good and ready to face him again.
And they hadn’t even talked about the future.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Finally,” a male voice said as Willow stepped from the bathroom. She froze, looking up in horror at a woman dressed in a waitress uniform in front of her.
“Really, Willow. A bathroom?” Marg Valen tsked. “That’s so tacky.”
So much had happened over the last several days that Willow almost forgot about the danger she was in. Now, she made to rush back into the bathroom but the man who’d spoken slid behind her. Something small and hard pushed against her back.
Oh shit.
“I think it’s time we had a talk. Don’t you, sweetheart?”
Willow wanted to spit on the other woman for sullying Ben’s endearment. “I’m not your sweetheart.”
Valen reached up to touch Willow’s hair and she had to clamp her mouth shut to keep from biting the gnarly fingers.
She’d probably end up with rabies.
“So short, but still so pretty. Let’s go, Tom.”
Tom prodded her back with his gun. Wild-eyed, Willow looked around the empty hall, wishing for help even as she hoped no one would show. Terrified as she was, anyone popping into the hall would be just as vulnerable as Willow.
At the far end of the hall, near an exit sign, another man came into view. Though dressed for the wedding, the big black weapon in his hand told another story.
As if Willow’s sinking heart couldn’t fall any farther, the door to the ballroom opened and Kaylie stepped out. With Lukas in her arms. Oblivious to the danger, she smiled in relief. “Oh, hey, Will. Ben told me there was a bathroom down this way. Lukas needs changing.”
Marg’s smile was full of professional helpfulness. “Sure is. Just down the hall and to your right. What a darling child.” The woman reached out and ran a finger over Lukas’s downy cheek. Willow understood the hint. If she so much as breathed wrong, Kaylie and the baby were dead.
In that second Willow understood Tess’s comment about a good set of claws coming in handy, because if she’d had them, she would have ripped Marg’s face off. The rage was so fierce, Willow shook with it.
“Caleb and Tess are back?” She prayed the tremors in her voice didn’t betray her. She needed to act natural, and as a friend, she wouldn’t walk past Kaylie without speaking. Tom edged slightly away, making Willow wonder what he looked like, since the sight of an unknown male at Willow’s back didn’t seem to rattle Kaylie.
Kaylie let out an exasperated sigh. “They’re still at the church for photos, so they say. Personally I think they’re looking for some ma-n-and-wife time before they head over.”
Lukas started to fuss and she kissed his head, moving past Willow in the hall. Amazingly enough, both Marg and Tom let her pass without incident. “They’re like two wolves in heat. Nothing can separate them.” Kaylie said with a wink..
Once Kaylie and the babe entered the restroom, Tom urged Willow on with a muttered “move” and nudge of his gun.
“I’m going.” She glanced over at Marg to see the woman’s lips turn up.
“Surprised? I’m not a complete bitch, Willow. As long as you don’t cross me. Besides, I do so like babies.”
Willow shuddered and kept moving. As they neared the exit, the second man opened the door. Outside it was nearly dark, the sun long gone and the moon’s glow not yet strong enough to seep through the thick clouds. Willow was shoved inside the back of an SUV, the vehicle of choice in the mountains, and sandwiched between Marg and Tom. A third man sat behind the wheel, a nasty leer on his face as he checked her out through the rear-view mirror. Willow gagged.