The Good Enough Husband (10 page)

***

Ben wanted to give Hannah an explanation. He’d left his parents at his house, and had driven straight to her. She’d poured them much needed glasses of wine, and they sat on the long couch sipping in silence.

“You didn’t drink your wine at dinner,” he said. His convers
ational tone belied the churning in his stomach.

“I needed a clear head to keep up with your parents,” she said. Hannah put down the glass and got up to take the dog out for a quick pee. The cool air cut right through Ben. He was never so glad to see someone come back into a room. He wanted this wo
man coming back to him repeatedly no matter how far away she ventured. She kicked off her shoes and curled her feet under a throw his parents kept under the coffee table.

“Tell me about Marty.”

Maybe ignoring the request would cause her to drop it. He stood up, got wood from the pile outside and stacked it neatly in the iron belly of the stove. He shoved some newspaper in, and lit it with a gas lighter. He kicked off his own shoes, and stretched out his legs on the opposite ends of the couch, helping himself to some of the anchor-patterned blanket.

“Tell me.”

Ben took a deep breath. He had never told anyone this story, even Samara. Before Marty’s wife had given birth to the baby, his parents had not really bothered him about the whole issue, and he’d thought it was something he’d put behind him. But in the last few months of Hallie’s pregnancy and since the little guy’s birth, his mother had suddenly ratcheted up the pressure.

“My parents were never a passionate couple. They made an e
xcellent team. My father published his way to tenure, and my mother faithfully researched and assisted him.” He paused. “I’m not explaining this right. I don’t know where to start.” He held his hands out in supplication. Hannah nudged his leg with one of hers, toasty under the blanket.

“The beginning.”

He took a moment to gather the long-buried memories. “My sister and I were in high school over at Sacramento Day. Occasionally, I’d get ribbing from the guys on the cross country team or on Lacrosse that there was this guy at Davis who looked a lot like Abbe and me. Everyone supposedly has a double, right?” Hannah nodded. “I never thought much of it. Then one day this girl comes up to me with the Davis Senior High yearbook, and opens the page to this kid, Marty Wexler, who was on the wrestling team there. She thought he looked a lot like me and wanted to show me.

“A doppelganger in England or Australia was one thing, but a kid who looked like my little brother living across town was another.” He paused, bringing the glass to his lips. His throat felt dry even after the swallow of wine. “I told the girl she was being silly, but the picture sort of tickled something in my brain, so I kept the yearbook. I showed the picture to Abbe. She put two and two together and said that Dad had had a secretary named Minnie Wexler. She remembered it because the woman had taken her home one day when Dad couldn’t pick her up or something.

“So we got out the phone book.” He nodded at her bemused look. “We looked her up, and there she was: Minnie Wexler right there in South Davis. We biked from West Manor Park, where my parents live, across Lincoln Highway, and through town.

“But we didn’t know what to do once we got there. It was one of a whole bunch of copycat apartment complexes in Davis. We found a pay phone and called her, pretending to be Marty’s clas
smates. She invited us in, but our pretense didn’t last for a second. Of course, she knew who we were. Marty came into the room with a lot of bluster, acting like the man of the house when he was all of…” Ben counted backward on his hand, “fifteen, I guess. He asked what we were doing there.

“Abbe asked flat out if he was our brother. He looked at his mother uncertainly, and they both nodded. Minnie tried to pawn us off by telling us we should talk to our father. I would have gone home. Abbe was pushy though, and asked Minnie to make us some tea. All four of us ended up sitting around her little kitchen table,
and Minnie sketched out what had happened. Then she answered all of Abbe’s questions. Yes, our father knew about them, and saw Marty regularly. Yes, she was pretty sure our mother knew as well.

“It took us a couple of weeks to work up to confronting our parents. But one night during Sunday dinner, Abbe said that we knew about Marty. Our dad took us to the study and explained that he and Mom had some bumps in their marriage after I was born. Mom’s attention, rightly so, I think, was focused on us, and he was on his own.

“We all know the birds and the bees so what happened next is that he had an indiscretion, she got pregnant, she wanted to keep the child, and that was that. Mom found out later, I’m not sure how much later, but she stayed with Dad. She said that she’d always married Walter for better or worse, and if this was the worst, it wasn’t so bad.”

Hannah was quiet for a long moment. How could she judge him for his inflexibility? “Other than that one time, have you seen Marty?” she asked.

“A few years ago Dad had a heart scare.”

“Is he okay?”

“He was fine. He
is
fine. He has an arrhythmia—an irregular heartbeat. There had been some damage to his heart muscle from an undetected heart attack. He’s on medication that controls it. When he complained of chest pains, the whole family rushed to the hospital. We didn’t know if it was life or death and Mom thought he should have his family around.

“Mom called Marty. Maybe Dad saw God or something. After that, he didn’t hide his relationship with Marty any more. Minnie
retired and moved to be nearer to her family in Tennessee, but Marty stayed in town. Whenever they invited him over, I wasn’t there.”

“How do Marty and Abbe get along?”

“Abbe was always Dad’s favorite. She was quick to forgive him.”

“Have you forgiven your dad?”

Ben laid his head back on the armrest. That was a much more complicated question. “My mom has forgiven him. She acts like Marty was always there.”

“I asked about you.”

“I’ve made my peace with it. People lie. First, my mom and dad kept this huge secret for all of these years. Then Samara does the same thing.” They were quiet for some time. Ben stood. Then he knelt next to Hannah on her side of the couch. “You’re the first person who hasn’t lied to me.”

He cupped her face, the smooth skin silk against his palms. She looked so beautiful in the weak light of the room. Her full lips parted, and she accepted his kiss of gratitude. Lost in their kiss he forgot about lies, and half-truths and betrayal. Finally, he could put this all behind him and start again. Hope burgeoned in his chest. Maybe for once, he could get this right.

Arms pushed against his chest. “Don’t think I don’t want you here, now, doing this. But you need to go back to your house with your parents.”

He pulled back and looked at her brown eyes smoky with d
esire. “You’re right.” He cupped her cheeks, kissing her softly with something other than passion.

7

Thank God for Federal Express. Ben had seen every stitch of clothing she’d brought with her. She’d done some quick on-line shopping at Bloomingdales because she wanted this last night with him to be special. Though priority overnight meant 4:30 in the afternoon by Lost Coast standards. That should give her time to pull out all the stops.

Blowing her hair straight was something she’d rarely done after her twenties, but the end result was worth the shoulder strain. Her light brown hair with its natural blonde highlights shimmered. A
lthough Hannah had grown to love her curly, frizzy, and frankly unruly hair after years of trying to make it something it was not, she wanted Ben to know that she’d done something special for him.

Tearing open the newly arrived packages, she cut off tags, and peeled off innumerable stickers. Shimmying into new forest green skinny jeans, and a white cashmere sweater gave her confidence. The two colors looked good against her tan skin. She dug through her luggage and pulled out the worn-soft brown calfskin ankle high boots that she loved. The stacked heel gave her three additional inches of height. Ben was one man who didn’t seem to care that they could see eye to eye.

Hannah willed Cody to keep from barfing during the mile long trip to Ben’s house. Vomit wasn’t sexy. Anticipation slowed Hannah’s driving. This was the first time she’d be invited inside. In many ways, Ben had kept his distance from her. Whether it was because he’d been hurt or because he was naturally reticent, she didn’t know. Tonight was her last night, and she wanted to peel back those layers and creep under his skin. She needed him to want her as much as she wanted him. Lopsided relationships—even for the one who was loved more—didn’t work. She’d learned that lesson the hard way, twice. Hannah needed to know he still wanted her as much as that first night.

Ben greeted her at the door with a chaste kiss on the cheek. He wore no apron this time, and took the proffered wine politely. He looked down at the dog, eyebrows raised in question.

“I didn’t want to leave Cody alone,” she said defensively. Hoping she’d be there late into the night, she didn’t want the dog to pee in the house or destroy something in his boredom. Was her new outfit, smooth hair and dog in tow too obvious?

Ben knelt for a second, giving the dog a few pets. “Come out back.”

Like Elaine and Walter’s, his view was stunning. That’s where the similarities ended. While his parent’s house was decorated in early ‘sedate retiree’ décor, Ben’s deck screamed bachelor pad. Calling all the stainless steel that greeted her a grill didn’t do it justice. It was better outfitted than the rustic wood paneled kitchen she’d glanced at on her way outside. The outdoor kitchen built onto the side of the house wasn’t vastly different from hundreds she’d seen in upscale Orange County houses. She wondered if Ben had built it—somehow it seemed out of character, though he’d made himself right at home. In the chill air, she could feel the heat emanating from the coals, and rubbed her arms with her hands.

“Now that you’re here, I’m going to throw a couple of steaks on the grill. That okay?”

She nodded. She wasn’t here for the food. Her stomach had been tied up in knots thinking about Ben. Hannah hadn’t been anything close to hungry in nearly two weeks. These days, she ate to survive. To be polite, she’d make an effort to eat something. But it could be Cody’s dinner for all she cared.

Ben, the perfect host, poured her a glass of wine as she sat in one of the padded wicker chairs. Hannah pulled the blue cloth napkin from the zinc top table and spread it in her lap. Instinctiv
ely, she rubbed her thumb against her ring finger, momentarily startled to find it empty. She cursed herself for the mindless habit she’d gotten into as a child when her mother had given her a silver ring from Denmark that she loved. A friend who had admired the ring, casually told her a story about pickpockets who routinely stole rings from unsuspecting girls who were often less conscious of their left hands. She always felt the diamond turned toward her palm every few hours or so. Though she had no fear of crime here or in Orange County, for that matter, it was a habit she couldn’t shake. She pulled her thumb from her ring finger, and picked up her wineglass with two hands. The absence of the rings was deliberate. Michael was her past.

The steaks were done in a matter of minutes, and Ben pulled creamed spinach off the warming rack. Despite her lack of hunger, she polished off much of the food.

“You really know how to cook.”

“My mother insisted on it.”

“I bet her ‘insistence’ didn’t leave you much room for choice.”

A smile flitted across his lips, but disappeared as quickly as it came. He probably still smarted from the whole half-brother di
scussion from last night.

Changing the subject, he reached across the table, and lightly touched a few strands of Hannah’s hair. “Your hair is different.” With that small intimacy, involuntary shivers raced down Ha
nnah’s arms. “Are you cold?”

Hannah was anything but cold. She nodded nonetheless. She had no plans to have sex out here on the deck. Getting as close to a bed as possible was first on her agenda.

“Let me help you with the plates.” Surreptitiously slipping the dog the remainder of her steak, Hannah collected the dinner plates. Washing up the few dishes in the kitchen sink, Hannah heard Ben in the living room throwing heavy logs, and balling up newspaper.

Shaking her damp hands dry, she wandered into the living room. Ben was sitting on the couch, denim-clad thighs spread wide. Small blue flames licked at the newspaper. “I don’t have
great heating in this place. I’ve been meaning to have the HVAC system overhauled.” Her face warmed at the thought of running her hands between those thighs. The last thing she needed was more heat.

Taking off her boots, she got comfortable on the cowhide rug between the couch and the fireplace. She leaned back against the couch, ensconcing herself between his knees. He absently stroked her hair. For all the passion in his touch, she could have been the dog. They sat in companionable silence for some time watching the fire catch on the tinder and spread to the larger logs. The odd combination of arousal and melancholy made her limbs feel heavy.

She turned and looked up at him. Here goes nothing. “Are you attracted to me?” The light from the fire reflected in his blue gray eyes. The sun had set rapidly, casting the room in shadows.

Large, heavy hands gripped her shoulders. “Jesus Christ, Ha
nnah. Why would you ask me something like that?”

“It’s that you haven’t…” She trailed off. He hadn’t what? This had to be the worst come on, ever. She wanted him, but didn’t know how to say it.

“Haven’t what? Jumped all over you like a salivating teenager? I’m forty, Hannah, not fourteen.” Maneuvering off the couch, Ben knelt beside her on the black and white rug. “I’ve spent nearly every night with you. On the nights I didn’t, I was wishing I had.”

“I’m leaving tomorrow. I want…” She quieted, unable to figure out why it was so difficult to articulate that she needed him to make the guilt go away.

“I know what you want, Hannah. It’s what I want too.”

“Then why… You always go home after our dates.”

“Why should I stay, Hannah? You’re leaving. I don’t know if you’re coming back. I don’t want a one-night stand.”

She wanted more than one night. After Michael, she’d be back. “I want more, Ben.”

“How can we? You don’t live here. You have to deal with whatever relationship you’re leaving behind, the life you have to go back to in Orange County.”

“My relationship is over. I only want you, Ben.” That was the unvarnished truth. She laid her want and need bare before him. “Please…”

“My dear, Hannah,” he began, then cupped her face and kissed her.

Past and future merged in a kiss that was both what she r
emembered and what she wanted it to be. Ben kissed her slowly as if they had all the time in the world. The merest touch of his lips on hers and she already felt like she wanted to crawl out of her own skin. How could he go so slowly, when she could practically feel the sand filling the bottom of the hourglass? She slid her hands under his shirt, across the warm plane of his belly, and up the hot skin of his broad back, and still he didn’t move.

To be ravished is what she wanted from Ben. If she didn’t i
nitiate it, she could blame it on him or blame it on the passion.

And then he did. He gently urged her mouth open, and thrust his tongue inside. Tasting like charcoal and wine, Ben’s tongue tied with hers, and the intimacy of their kiss flooded her with want. This was it. This was perfect. Sex without reservation or trepid
ation.

Ben broke the kiss and looked at her, his eyes grounding her. He rubbed a thumb over her still tingling bottom lip. “It’s been hell, Hannah. Every night I dropped you off, I wanted nothing more than to take you to bed.”

“They why didn’t you?”

“Because I needed to trust that you were done with whatever you’d left down south. After this, there’s no going back.”

***

Ben was giving her one last chance to bolt. One last chance to go home and forget they’d ever met. Passion rooted her to the rug.

After a long pause, he tugged her gently. More than willing, Hannah went with him. Prone on the rug, Ben’s large body covered hers. Muscles of his hard chest pressed against her, an insistent erection pressing against her leg. He smelled of fire, and something muskier, intoxicating her. She wanted to move, rub against him, pull his clothes off, something. But she was pinned to the floor by the directness of his gaze. He hadn’t used many words tonight, but the desire in his eyes said enough. Ben leaned down to kiss her again. The first touch was feather light, an exploration.

Thrusting her hands into the hair that curled wildly at the nape of his neck, Hannah urged him closer to blot out thinking and drown in desire. Ben could not be moved. He continued his lazy exploration.

“Ben,” she whispered against his lips. “I’m leaving in the morning.” The last two weeks had been hell. Did he feel one ounce of the urgency that clawed at her?

Hollow inside, she needed to fill the empty space. The dam broke then. He plied her with hot openmouthed kisses that stoked the fire in her belly. Finally. She stopped thinking and started fee
ling. The only thing that could fulfill her, fill her fierce need was him.

Ben pulled away and stood, dragging her up with him. “Be
droom.”

“Will we be cold?” Hannah asked, the now roaring fire having warmed her body.

“We’ll be anything but cold,” he said, pulling her against him for another kiss that curled her toes into the rug.

His large hand enveloped hers. They walked to the bedroom. She stood by the door awkwardly while Ben bent to turn on a be
dside lamp. Sex with Michael was never like this. This wanting, this waiting, this needing, this craving was unique to Ben. After tonight there would be no turning back. Rarely were the forks in the road of life so clear.

The warm hand that cupped her face, its thumb brushing against her lower lip, brought her back to the present. “Hannah, I lost you there. You okay?”

She nodded, enraptured by those smoldering blue gray eyes, and spoke another truth. “I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you.”

Ben didn’t speak then. He closed the minute distance remaining between them and placed an openmouthed kiss on her exposed neck. All pretense of restraint was gone. Ben was doing what she’d always needed during sex, he took control. His mouth was ever
ywhere. Soft kisses glanced off her eyebrows and half-closed lids. His seeking mouth found first her lips and tongue, then the sensitive spot on her neck. Wanting to hold onto this feeling, she clamped her thighs together afraid she’d come from his kisses. She wanted to feel his hands and mouth on her breasts and in the most intimate of caresses. Hannah slid her hands under his shirt, smoothing them along the hot skin of his back, sculpting the clenching muscles of his back and shoulders. She pulled the shirt over his head, and initiated another kiss. If kissing Ben made them this hot, she didn’t think she’d live through the actual sex act without bursting into flame.

“Let’s go to bed,” Ben said, tugging her toward the California king that dominated the wood paneled room. She sat, but Ben r
emained standing in front of her. With his waist at eye level, there was no mistaking his arousal. Involuntarily, her hand reached out, caressing his length and hardness through the straining fabric. Hands stilled, eyes closed, Ben threw back his head and sucked in a swift breath. When he got control of himself, he pulled her hands away. Lifting her arms up, he pulled off the cashmere sweater she’d chosen so carefully. Ben’s breath whooshed from his lungs, and suddenly she didn’t regret one penny of the two hundred dollars she’d spent on the La Perla underwear. The caramel brown lace lingerie had shimmered against her tan skin that afternoon in the mirror.

Hannah leaned back on her elbows and let Ben undress her. Worshipfully, he knelt before her, unbuttoned the skinny corduroys and pulled them from her long legs.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered into the chill air. He parted her legs, running a hand up each calf, and along each thigh. His thumbs brushed against the thin silk covering her sex. Blood pooled in her belly, and the area between her legs pulsed with anticipation. Shamelessly, she pulled his hands to her sex. He obliged, slipping one thumb between the silk and her heat. She held her breath until Ben lightly brushed against her most sensitive nub of flesh, then panted as he did it repeatedly. Their eyes locked and held. His eyes darkened to the color of midnight.