Tab Bennett and the Inbetween (10 page)

“I always knew he’d come for you eventually and that when he did I would have to give you up. I’ve been looking over my shoulder since the first time we kissed. I knew you weren’t mine, not really. But I thought I was okay with it. That’s stupid right? It is – it’s stupid.

“I shouldn’t have come to the World with you in the first place. But he was worried about you and I knew I could keep you safe for him. We were as close as brothers, Alexander and me, and I owed him. I owed him big. This was me doing him a favor. At first, I told myself that I was only doing what he asked me to do, helping him, protecting you by being close to you. Then after awhile, I just tried not to think about him. And you know what? I almost never did. That’s why when I saw him there on the porch it took everything I had not to throw you in the truck and run with you. If I had thought we had even a small chance, like one in a million even, to get through the gates and out of here, I would have tried. How stupid is that?

“When you …” He stopped and looked at me, his anger as clear and bright as the sun. “It was hard to see you react like that to meeting him. I’ve spent the last ten years of my life wanting to hold you that way and you had your legs wrapped around him within minutes. You know what I was doing while you were making out with him? I was wishing I could trade places with him, so I could kiss you like that; touch you like that; like it was my right. And then the other night I came here with your ring and you were all disheveled and unbuttoned and I knew that you’d been in here with him…”

He took a shaky breath before continuing, “Alexander will make you happy. He’s very brave and very loyal; he’ll take care of you and give you the life you were meant to have. You’ll be good together after a while and you won’t even think of me.”

I raised my hand to surrender, wordlessly asking him to stop. I didn’t think I could listen to another word without falling apart. He had every right to be angry with me. I deserved it. But I couldn’t bear it.

“Yeah, okay. I guess we’ve both had enough,” he said, setting his key on the coffee table. “I’ll tell Bennett we broke up. That’ll cheer him up, right?” I nodded, wiping the tears from my eyes as I did. “You’re not crying, are you?” I shook my head and said no even though it was clear that I was, in fact, crying.

In a second he was there, pulling me into his arms, holding me close.

“Please don’t cry,” he said. “You know I hate it when you cry.”

 I looked up into his chocolate brown eyes and my heart skipped a beat. The electricity between us was entirely natural, nothing magical about it. It sparked and crackled between us. My heart started pounding in my chest when he leaned over and brushed his lips against mine. He drew in a sharp breath of air and then he did it again.

“I want to show you something,” I said as I reached for the zipper of my hoodie.

“Don’t,” he said quickly, his eyes darting from the window to the door.

“It’s ok,” I replied. I lowered the zipper to show him my engagement ring, the ring he’d given me, laying against the swell of my breasts. “I couldn’t bring myself to take it off.”

He reached out to touch me but then lowered his hand, shaking his head.

“I can’t.” But this time I understood why he hesitated and that made me brave. I took his hand, kissed the palm, and placed in on my breast. He closed his eyes and sat absolutely still.

“Look at me,” I said. The look in his eyes when he opened them was wild, full of pain and desire. The brown and gold and flecks of green of his iris turned together at a dizzying speed. “If you’re still mine, then show me that you are,” I whispered.

He looked so beautiful and so confused; I could almost hear him deciding between his obligation and his need.  He hesitated for just for a split second before he crushed his mouth down on mine. He kissed me hard and hot and long. He kissed me and kissed me and kissed me. He unzipped my hoodie and slid it off my shoulders. He pulled my yoga pants off with one tug. I lifted his shirt over his head and let my hands discover him slowly, caressing him and kissing him where ever I could reach. His skin was so hot, the muscle beneath it so smooth and strong. I felt him getting hard where his body pressed into mine. I wrapped my legs around him, pushing myself against him, sending a spark of something desperate through me. His fingers toyed with the waistband of my panties, still deciding.

I decided for him, sliding my hand between us, popping the button of his jeans so I could touch him, skin to skin.

“You’re killing me,” he said when my fingers closed around him, as my hand moved slowly over the hard length of him. He sounded like he didn’t really mind.

His finger had just slipped inside my panties when he froze on top of me. “I can’t do this.” By the time I was fully aware of what was happening, he was on his feet, pulling his shirt on. “If I don’t leave right now I won’t be able to leave.” He looked down at me with a strange expression on his face. “I’ll wait outside until you get someone else to come down here. Ask them to hurry.”

For a second I was too stunned and mortified to move. Too angry. Then I called George. In spite of being lightly stunned I knew he was my best bet as far as replacements were concerned. He answered his cell phone on the 10,000th ring. I could hear a woman giggling in the background.

“This had better be important,” he said.

“I need you to come over here right now. Please. Please come here right now.”

“Are you in trouble?” he asked, suddenly on red alert.

“Robbin is here and we practically virtually almost just had sex. Now he’s out on the front porch and he won’t leave until someone else comes here to take his shift. I can’t call Francis.”

“Obviously not,” George said.

“And Matthew hates me.”

“And calling Alexander will most likely end in bloodshed,” he concluded helpfully.

“So you see my predicament?”

“You are a full time job, Princess,” he said through a sigh. “All right—I’ll come. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Tell lover boy to sit tight.”

It wasn’t even that long before I heard him in the driveway. I watched from the window as he kissed the expensive looking blond who’d driven him home and bounded up onto the porch. Robbin was sitting in a rocking chair with a look of genuine misery on his face.

“Turnbough, Turnbough, Turnbough; what are we going to do with you?” The ‘tsk tsk tsk’ was implied, not stated.

“I’m not in the mood,” Robbin warned.

“That’s not what I heard.”

I instantly regretted telling George the truth about what had happened.

“Seriously Waverly, don’t start.”

“Don’t start? You’re so lucky it’s me standing here ‘starting’ with you and not Francis. Or Alexander. Under the circumstances I doubt you could take the beating either of them would’ve been only too happy to give you.”

“Yeah? Well even under the circumstances I can still kick your ass.”

“Why don’t you limp over here and give it a try?”

Robbin groaned as he slowly got to his feet. “I’m gonna pass if it’s all the same to you, brother.”

George chuckled. “It’s pretty bad, huh?”

“I’ve taken worse,” Robbin replied seriously. “And it was worth it.”

“Get out of here before I am honor bound to kick your ass,” George said. “And don’t forget Court in the morning.”

Robbin sort of hobbled down the stairs and over to his truck, like an old man with very bad arthritis.

“Good luck getting in,” George called out.

“Go to hell,” Robbin replied amicably.

I watched from the window as he climbed up into the cab of the truck. Even from across the yard it looked like it hurt worse than a stick in the eye.

George found the whole thing hysterical. He came in laughing.

“Do you want to tell me what that was all about?”

“No. I’d really rather not.” He walked passed me and disappeared into the kitchen. “Do you have anything to drink?”

“Come on,” I whined.

“You come on,” he said. “I left a very lovely young woman who was very sad to see me go to come home and save your butt. That’s the only bullet I’m taking for the team this evening.”

I was so tired of people keeping things from me, of everyone knowing exactly what was going on while I was left to wander around in the dark, stubbing my toes and making an ass of myself.

“I’m asking you as your princess, George. Tell me what was wrong with Robbin just now.”

He gave me a skeptical look. “Who taught you that?”

“Matthew,” I said. “But he didn’t mean to.”

“Like I said, you’re a full time job.” George pulled himself up onto the counter and sat there, sipping a beer he’d found in the fridge. “Ok, what do you want to know?”

“What did Robbin mean when he said he’s taken worse? And why was he limping like that? I didn’t do anything to hurt him.”

“Oh didn’t you?” George asked innocently.

“This is your future queen asking, so don’t be an ass.”

“Already drunk with power, huh?” He laughed. “All right, how do I explain?” He took a long sip of his beer and then offered me the bottle. “The enchantment is on you, but it affects people around you too. You’ve already seen what it does to Alexander.” I nodded hoping that would close the embarrassing subject without opening it. “That’s just one part of it. Robbin came up with the other half, if you can believe that. This was before he knew you, of course, but it’s turned out to be an interesting twist, considering.”

I folded my arms across my chest; I’m sure he could see that I wasn’t interested in discussing irony or any other literary device just at the moment.

“The other part was meant to keep you…um, to put it delicately, pure. It’s about the effect touching you will have on anyone with…” He paused, searching for the right word. “Let’s say romantic intentions.”

 “What does that mean?”

 “It means it hurts to touch you.” He said it quickly and without hesitation, the way you peel off a Band-Aid if you’re smart.

“It hurts?”

He nodded. “You saw the limp, did you not?”

“Like a poke? Like a pinch? Give me a clue.”

“Judging from the way Turnbough looked, I’d guess like a punch, a hard punch.”

“So touching me made Robbin feel like he was being beaten with a sock full of quarters?” I turned away, a little sick at the thought.

“Yes. But not rolls of quarters. Loose ones.”

I heard him call me, apologizing and promising to be serious but I didn’t stop. I went directly to my room and slammed the door.

When I opened my front door for him the next morning Francis bowed so low his forehead almost touched the floor. “Good morning, my Princess,” he said in a respectful tone he’d never used on me before. But when he stood up he was himself again, thank God. “Has your hair always been that color?” he asked as he lifted one deep, dark lock and frowned at it. I slapped his hand away.

“Why are you dressed like that?” He was wearing white pants and shirt, an aqua waistcoat, and what I swear was a Prince Charlie Jacket – short in front, tails in back, lots of buttons.

“I’m dressed like this because I am the Master of the Princess’s personal guard and this is what we wear.”

“Do you wear this?” I asked George.

He shrugged, “Only under duress.”

“Some of our people are coming to see Pop this morning and he wants you to sit beside him. I was going to explain all of this yesterday but you wouldn’t let me in and now there isn’t time.” He shoved me toward the bedroom door. “You need to get dressed. Wear something nice – a dress would be good if you have one. There’s no time for a shower.”

I showered anyway. Then I put on a simple black dress with an aqua ribbon belt and red heels. I looked good. The shoes were a little daring but they gave me a nice confidence boost and I had a feeling I was going to need it to get through the day.