Feels Like Love by Jenna Hartley

Chapter Ten

“Hey, B!” River said, skipping into the house.

Bennett was cooking dinner, and he smiled at us from the kitchen. We hadn’t had much alone time since the photo shoot and our conversation about Kade. Bennett had been called into the clinic for an emergency, and then he’d stayed out late last night. I’d wondered if he was avoiding me, but I reminded myself he had a life that didn’t revolve around River and me. Even if I wanted it to. Even if it often felt like it.

I didn’t ask where he’d gone. And he didn’t offer an explanation. Just as I didn’t plan to bring up Kade again and hoped he’d let the matter drop. I’d meant what I said—it was in the past.

“Can I help?” River asked, returning from his bedroom in a different outfit.

River had been doing that a lot lately—offering to help. And not just with meals. River looked up to Bennett, and seeing a man in the house, doing chores, was clearly having a positive impact on my son.

“Sure.” Bennett smiled. “Can you set the table? Are your hands washed?” he added when River opened the silverware drawer.

“Be right back!” River ran to his bathroom.

“What can I do?” I asked, bumping Bennett’s hip with mine.

“We’ve got it covered,” Bennett said.

I rolled my eyes and turned so my back was to the counter, hands braced against the edge. “You always say that. What are you making tonight? It smells good.”

“Chicken, broccoli, and roasted potatoes.”

“Yuck!” River said, sticking out his tongue as he returned.

I turned to glare at him. “River, that is not polite. If someone’s prepared a meal for you, you accept it with gratitude. Do you understand me?”

He dipped his head and nodded, contrite.

“It’s cool,” Bennett said, turning off the oven. “I used to hate potatoes too.”

“What?” River laughed. “Um. No. I love potatoes. I hate broccoli.”

“Oh. Right,” Bennett said. “That’s what I meant. But you know what? I prepared it a special way that I think you’ll really like.”

River crossed his arms over his chest. “I doubt it.” So do I.

“Will you try one piece?” he asked, setting a plate at River’s seat. “Just for me?”

River shifted from one foot to the other, clearly torn between his dislike for broccoli and his desire to please Bennett. It was kind of funny, actually, and I was curious how it would turn out. I had a feeling Bennett underestimated River’s aversion to vegetables. Though, if anyone could convince River to eat some, it would be Bennett.

“Fine.” River sat in his chair with a huff.

Bennett waited for me to serve myself then did the same. Before we went over to the table, I leaned in and lowered my voice. “I wondered if you could help me with something. After River goes to bed.”

He nodded. “Of course.”

We joined River at the table, and he held up the broccoli with his fork, examining it as if it were a cockroach. “See!”

“Go for it,” Bennett said. “I think you’ll like it. And if you don’t—well, at least you tried.”

That felt like my motto for dating lately. I’d been chatting with several guys on the LoveBirds app and even set up a few dates. I’d been…trying. Or at least, I told myself I was. But it felt like my heart wasn’t in it. Not really.

River scowled, but then to my surprise, he put the broccoli in his mouth and tasted it. He chewed, and I waited for him to spit it out, but he didn’t. And then, the most shocking thing of all…he picked up another floret. What the what?

I turned to Bennett, mouth agape. I’d been trying to get River to eat some vegetables—any vegetables—for months. And Bennett had succeeded. He preened in his chair, smug smile in place.

Despite his gloating, I said, “I could kiss you.”

He paused, fork poised midair. His eyes were suddenly very focused on my lips. It made me wonder if he saw me as more than just Liam’s sister. If only. I licked my lips, reaching for my water as if it would help my mouth that had suddenly gone dry.

“Ew. Mom.” River rolled his eyes, and we all laughed, the tension broken.

After dinner, I cleaned up, while River did his homework at the table. Bennett sat with him, patiently asking about each prompt. Was three greater or less than four? Was nine greater or less than seven?

I smiled, watching them interact. Wishing so badly that River could have someone like Bennett as a father figure, not just a pseudo-uncle or friend. I knew how much he wanted that, and I wanted it too—for both of us. We were a family—perfect just as we were. But sometimes, especially lately, I realized how much we’d been missing out on. How badly I wanted a partner for me, and a dad for River.

Which was exactly why I was dating.

I returned my attention to the pot, rinsing, then drying it off. “Right, kiddo. Time to get ready for bed.”

“But, Mooom.” River pouted.

Bennett leaned over and whispered something in his ear. River nodded, and then he walked down the hall to his room. I could hear the water running in the bathroom, letting me know he was brushing his teeth.

I furrowed my brow. “What on earth did you say to him? And have you brainwashed my son? First, broccoli, and now…this?” I teased.

“I told him I’d read stories tonight if he went to get ready for bed.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. He’d read to River almost every night since moving in. I’d begun to wonder who enjoyed it more—River or Bennett. I’d often hear them giggling from down the hall. Well, River’s giggle. Bennett’s deep, sexy chuckle.

“Absolutely. Go put on your pajamas.” When I hesitated, he said, “You know you want to.”

I laughed, folding the dish towel before tucking it into the oven handle. “You’re right. Ugh. Whoever invented bras wanted to torture women.”

“If they’re so awful, why even wear them?”

I laughed. Oh, men. Sometimes they could be so clueless. “Um, have you seen my boobs?” I cupped them lightly. “If I didn’t wear a bra, I’d be spilling out all over the place.” Someone like Harper—petite and with a smaller cup—could get away with it. But not me.

River called out for Bennett, and I’d never seen him dart down the hall so fast. I wondered if I’d said something wrong because there was no way Bennett had just been staring at my boobs. I shrugged it off and went to change. I pulled on a silk set—dark blue shorts with a short-sleeved button-down to match. The material felt cool against my skin, and it was nice to finally be free of my bra.

As I crept back down the hall, I could hear the two of them talking in River’s room. I peeked around the corner, and my heart melted. River was lying next to the wall, and Bennett was beside him, his feet hanging off the edge of the bed. Bennett held a book over them, and they both stared up at it with smiles on their faces.

“You’re really good at reading stories,” River said.

“Thanks. I like hanging out with you.”

“Me too.”

They were quiet a minute, or at least I thought they were. I strained to listen. “Do you have to move out?” River asked.

The last time we’d talked about Bennett’s house, construction was moving along. Or at least, it had been. Now they were stuck while waiting on some permits.

“Yeah, buddy. I do. This is your home with your mom. I’m just staying here until my house is fixed.”

“But why?” River asked. “Why can’t you stay here—with us—forever?”

“Because…because it just doesn’t work that way, unfortunately.” He sounded reluctant, almost sad. Did Bennett want to stay?

I certainly loved having him around. And while I appreciated all his help around the house, the best part was spending time with him. Eating dinner as a family. Watching TV together at night after River had gone to bed. I hadn’t realized just how lonely I’d been until he’d come along.

I missed whatever they said next, but then I heard River say, “I love you, Butter Butter,” loud and clear. I wanted to laugh at the nickname he’d given Bennett, but then Bennett said, “I love you too, Butter Bean.” I held a hand to my heart, eyes pricking with tears. All the feels. All the freaking feels.

There was shuffling, so I tiptoed the rest of the way down the hall toward the living room. It wasn’t long before Bennett joined me on the couch.

“God, I’m beat.” He sank down next to me, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Long day?” I asked.

“The longest. I’m really looking forward to the weekend.”

I nodded. “Any big plans?”

He ran a hand over his head. “Apart from hanging out with the guys on Friday night? No.”

“So…no dates?”

He chuckled. “No. Why do you ask?”

I shrugged. “Just curious.”

“What about you? Any dates coming up?”

“Yeah, actually.” I tucked my hair behind my ear. “I have one tomorrow. Which is what I need your help with.”

“Okay. What’s up?”

“Well…what are the expectations for a date at a coffee shop?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I don’t know. It just seems more like somewhere you’d go to meet a friend. Or to do an interview.”

“Aren’t most dates like interviews? You’re gathering information about the other person and deciding if you’re a good fit.”

When he put it that way, it sounded so…clinical. So boring.

“What’s that face about?”

I shook my head. “Nothing.”

“Where are you meeting? Pore Over?”

I scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. There’s no way I’m going on a date where everyone in town could see me and report back to my brother. Speaking of—don’t you dare tell him I’m going on a date.”

He held up his hands. “I’m not telling anyone anything, especially not about the coaching.”

“Good,” I said. “I mean it. Because he always seems to sabotage me. And I do enough of that myself—I don’t need his help.”

“Wren.” He took my hand in his. “You’re going to be fine.”

He turned my hand over in his, our fingers dancing, exploring. It felt so nice, to be touched. And then he started massaging, loosening the muscles of my hand.

“All you need to do,” he said, working my palm with his thumbs. Where did he learn to do that? “Is relax.”

I could feel my body melting beneath his touch. I closed my eyes and let out a sound that was unintelligible. But I didn’t care, as long as he kept doing that to me.

He continued working my muscles, and I completely lost track of time. We could’ve been sitting there minutes or days for all I knew. But I was so focused on the warmth of his skin, the expert way he applied just the right amount of pressure. And when he finally, gently, placed my hand on my lap, I pouted.

“Don’t worry.” He tweaked my nose with a grin. “I’m not done.”

“I feel like I’m the one who should be giving you a massage,” I said, melting into the cushions as he resumed his ministrations on my other hand. “You said you had a long day. And that emergency this weekend. Is the dog okay?”

“Yes.” He sighed. “Thankfully. But I’d rather talk about you.”

I frowned. Maybe Bennett needed to relax even more than I did. I sometimes forgot how difficult his job could be. And I could see the sadness written in his features. Had he lost a patient? I was too scared to ask.

“Get on the floor,” I said, wanting to comfort him.

He jerked his head back and paused his massaging. “Excuse me?”

“Here.” I scooted so my back was to the couch and spread my legs. “Sit between my legs. I’ll make you feel better.”

The corner of his mouth tilted. “Oh yeah?”

I rolled my eyes. “Not like that.”

Though, now that he’d mentioned it, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. What it would be like to make a man like Bennett feel good. To have him between my legs, pressing his length into me. Our chests brushing. Lips locked as his body settled over mine.

“It’s fine.” I lifted my shoulder. “I was going to offer to rub your head, but…”

“Rub my head?” He started laughing. “I’m sorry.” He held up a hand. “Okay. I’ll stop.”

With the way he was acting, it reminded me of River when he’d get slaphappy because he was overtired. I almost sent Bennett off to bed, but selfishly, I wasn’t ready to say goodnight.

He climbed down to the floor, his neck almost aligned with my crotch, his shoulders pressing against my thighs. He was warm and solid, grounding me in a way no one else ever had.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

“Mm-hmm.” I studied the shape of his head, the way his hair felt as I ran my fingers through the golden strands.

“That feels so good,” he said on a sigh

I nodded and imagined him closing his eyes. I could feel his body relaxing against mine. It was nice to do something for Bennett for a change. He was always taking care of everyone else—the animals at his clinic, River, me. I wanted him to know that he was appreciated. That it was okay to do something for himself.

He sighed, tilting his head back so the top was practically resting against my center. Suddenly, I was very aware of his every breath, his every move. My nipples pebbled, rubbing against the silk of my shirt every time I shifted.

He ran his fingers up my foot, over the skin of my legs. His touch was light, but still firm enough that it was relaxing instead of tickling. He peered up at me, his beautiful blue eyes questioning. Is this okay? they asked.

I swallowed hard and nodded, not wanting him to stop. It felt so good—his hands on my skin. And the way he was looking at me had desire flooding my body, pooling in my core. But there was no rush, no push for more. Just the two of us, taking care of each other.

I moved to his temples, massaging, exploring. His skin was so smooth, and while I’d looked at him countless times, I’d never really had the opportunity to study him like this. The way his eyelashes fanned against his skin, dark and long. The scar on his forehead that looked like Harry Potter’s.

“Where’d you get this?” I asked, tracing it. Another mystery about his past. About the years we’d spent apart.

He chuckled but didn’t otherwise move. “That’s a crazy story.”

“Yeah? Was it Voldemort’s doing?” I teased.

He laughed. “No. Though the guy who did it was pretty evil. I didn’t even know him.”

I waited for him to continue, brushing my fingers over his face, allowing myself to just look at him. He was beautiful in a rugged sort of way.

“I guess you could say it was a case of mistaken identity.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he sighed and closed his eyes once more. Both of us touching each other gently, exploring. I briefly wondered if he did this with the other women in his life, but there didn’t seem to be any. Or maybe I just didn’t want there to be any.

“I was out with some friends during veterinary school,” he said. “Liam came with us, though he’d disappeared at some point to use the restroom. Anyway, this guy comes up and starts yelling at me out of the blue. Accuses me of stealing his girlfriend.”

I frowned, not liking where this story was headed. Even so, it was a reminder that nearly every important memory of Bennett’s was tied to my brother.

“When I told him I had no idea who his girlfriend was, he described her in detail, down to the globe tattoo over her right breast.”

He scoffed. “Perhaps he thought I was trying to be cute. Next thing I knew, he was busting his beer bottle over my head.”

“Ouch.” I winced. “I bet that hurt.”

“Mm. So, my buddy gets a few good shots before the jackass runs off. Then, guess who shows up, arm around a blonde with a globe tattoo on her chest?”

I cringed. “My brother.”

“Mm-hmm.” He laughed. “I nearly killed him.”

I blinked a few times, my hands stilling. “So, the guy—the jealous boyfriend—just…got away with it?”

“Yeah.” He scoffed. “Pretty crazy, right?”

“Yes.” I brushed my fingers over his forehead, down his nose, over his lips. They parted, and my finger got stuck on his plump bottom lip momentarily. His breathing was shaky, and it seemed as if we were suspended in time. I didn’t know what we were doing, and I didn’t care. I just wanted to keep touching him, listening to his voice.

My phone buzzed on the couch next to me, but I ignored it.

“Shouldn’t you get that?” Bennett asked.

“It’s fine,” I said.

But when it vibrated again, Bennett glanced over his shoulder to look at the screen. As did I. I knew the moment he saw the LoveBirds alert flashing there. I had a new message. I should’ve been more excited, but I was too focused on the man before me.

“I should get to bed.” He stood, and I watched him as if in a daze. “I’d hate to stand in the way of true love.”

Why?Why now? And why that stupid app?

I laughed, though the sound was nervous to my ears. “True love. Right.”

But then it hit me. I was staring right at him. At this man I’d known my whole life. The past few weeks, it felt as if I were seeing him for the first time.

I stood, giving his arm a squeeze. “Good night, Bennett. Sleep well.”

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Sweet dreams, Wren.”

I’d never realized the power of such a simple, sweet gesture. And I melted beneath his touch.

As I brushed my teeth, the LoveBirds app flashed with another new notification, mocking me. With a huff, I grabbed my phone and clicked over to the app. I had a new match. I couldn’t see the guy’s face. It was a black-and-white profile shot and he had on a baseball hat, so it was difficult to tell what he looked like.

I scanned his profile. Ben. Early thirties. Alondra Valley. Doctor.

He was a foodie and an animal lover.

I frowned. His profile didn’t give me much to go on, and I wanted to be mad at him for interrupting my moment with Bennett. Not that Ben had known, but still.

I plugged in my phone and climbed into bed. As I replayed the evening and the past weekend, I couldn’t help but wonder why a man like Bennett was single. He was perfect.

Okay. No one was perfect, but he was pretty dang close. He was responsible, patient, caring, loyal. He was nurturing. He’d make an amazing dad. And he was hot. Man, was he hot. His forearms alone deserved a billboard.

He literally ticked all the boxes, except for one. He was my brother’s best friend. He was off-limits.

I’d tried to push all those feelings from my mind, but the more time we spent together, the harder they were to ignore. I’d always crushed on Bennett, but that seemed simple now compared to how I was feeling. Because what I was experiencing felt a lot like love. Which was crazy, right?