Once And Forever: Virtually Impossible Part 30

"Just over eighty-five thousand dollars isn't a small amount of money."

"I've never added it up." I kept records of every payment and every family they went to, but tallying it up didn't seem like anything but a reminder of how much more I owed them. "Doesn't seem like a lot over four years, though. I wish it could be more." I wasn't sure how much longer I could stand to talk about this, but his pause made me even more uncomfortable-wondering how badly he was judging me.

"Why were you so afraid something had happened to Sara the night we first met?" I might've been thankful for his switch of topic, but all he'd done was move from one awful discussion to another.

I felt my eyes water. "She trusted the wrong person and got hurt. I don't know who it was, or what exactly happened, but I understood how she felt because...because I'd done the same thing. Trusted the wrong person and got hurt. But I hadn't just hurt myself-I'd hurt other people. Even though I can't stop those people from being hurt again by someone else, I can make sure Sara doesn't. At least not..."

When he nodded, I took a breath of relief that I didn't have to keep talking about the past. Until he started speaking again-no subject was safe anymore.

"Only four people know what I'm about to tell you," he said. "But I want you to know that I don't expect reciprocity. I'm telling you because I trust you, and I hope that someday you'll trust me."

I took a sip and waited for whatever would come next.

"When I was eight, my father almost killed me. I spent four days in the ICU. Eventually, I came home with casts on both of my arms and one leg. But it was fine because my family was rich. We could hire people to push my wheelchair around. We could pay for the best surgeons to make sure there would be no lasting damage. We could donate enough money to the hospital so that people forgot to file a report. So everything was fine."

He took another drink. "When I was about eleven, I missed a month of school. I couldn't go because I couldn't sit down or bend at the waist or knees or take full breaths. But everything was fine, because we had servants who could bring me what I needed and my parents didn't have to deal with me. Eventually, they sent me away to a boarding school in Connecticut...so they didn't have to deal with me. I was mostly healed and, by then, I'd learned how to not let the pain show on my face. So everything was fine."

He stood up, shaking his can slightly. "Can I have another?"

"Sure." I bent down to get him one, and when I straightened, he was next to me. Not facing me, though. His hands were on the railing, and he was looking out at the street.

"When I was sixteen, Detective Williams was called to my home for a domestic disturbance. That's how we met, and why he told me about you. Because he's a good man who tries to help people when they don't know how to ask for help. A week later, my father came to visit me at school because he thought I'd told Williams about the beatings. That visit led to two weeks at a private hospital because I needed time to heal, and my family was in mourning." His knuckles were white on the rail.

"Mourning?"

"My father had a heart attack in my dorm room. I was a certified lifeguard and knew CPR, but I watched him die on the floor next to me." He rubbed his lips together. "I could've...I was bleeding and had a few broken ribs, but I could've helped him. I chose not to. I chose to let him die."

I was frozen, listening to his every word, still holding the beer he'd asked for. He seemed to have forgotten about it, too.

"I told my mother it was because I was injured-my father had gotten upset and had beat me pretty badly, and I was still sore from the last time. But that's not why I didn't help him. I didn't help him because I wanted him to die. I wanted him to leave me alone, and Carson, and my mom. I knew that if I gave him CPR, there was a chance I would save him. Save him, after everything he'd done to us. I couldn't. So I did what he'd taught me to do, what my family had always done-look away, pretend things were fine and that my father wasn't using his last breath to curse my name. Pretend I couldn't feel his grip on my pants weaken and go limp when that breath was over."

"I'm sorry, Hayden."

"Me, too. At least, part of me is. But the other part understands why I made the choice I did. That I did it to protect the people I loved." Blinking, he looked down, his brow tightening when he saw me still holding the beer.

"Am I boring you yet?" he asked, taking the can out of my hand and cracking it open.

"Not at all." As much as I knew this man, there was so much more to learn. So much that explained why he was the way he was. The more he spoke, the more I respected his strength, and the more courage that gave me. "You can keep talking...if you want to."

A smile flitted across his mouth. "When I graduated from high school, I went to college at my father's Alma Mater. I'm not sure if I was a good enough student to be accepted, but I was. And, even though I wasn't under my father's fist anymore, I followed his rules, his expectations-my fraternity, area of study, sports, and girlfriends were all exactly as he would have wanted them. He had been successful, and if I wanted to be successful, it was wise to follow his example. And I was fine with that because I did want to succeed. I think. After grad school, I got an interesting job that I was good at and married an amazing woman, whom you met. Everything was...fine.

"Then I met this amazingly smart and funny woman who challenged everything I knew. And in between making fun of my typing speed and driving me a little crazy, she helped me realize that everything wasn't fine. It had never been fine and, if I continued living my life the way I was, it never would be fine. Because now...now I want more than fine." He finally turned to face me. "I want you. I want us. I want a chance at a life I've never even dreamed of."

Until that moment, with him looking at me so intently, so humbly, so honestly, I'd thought I wouldn't cry. But I felt tears slide down both cheeks. I didn't know what to say. How to tell him how sorry I was for all that he'd gone through. How hard it was to believe he could still care about me after everything I'd done wrong.

He took a deep breath. "If that's not something you're interested in pursuing, that's..." His jaw clenched. "No, that's not fine. It's not." His hand darted around my neck and pulled me into him. Our lips met already open, filled with regret for time wasted and desire for what was to come. I threw my arms around his neck and held on as he lifted me into his arms and went to the door. I reached behind me, banging my hand against the wood until I found the doork.n.o.b and turned it.

He tore his mouth away from mine, and we stumbled inside, slamming the door behind us. "I want more. I want this. Not just partway. You and me. Completely. I need to see if it can be what I think it could. Do you understand?"

I nodded, relief and disbelief making it impossible for me to say anything.

"You have the next four seconds to stop this, Andi. After that, I'm not listening to you anymore."

We stared at each other, our breath shallow. He held me-eyes, body, and heart.

"Your time's almost up," he said, his eyes studying my face for signs.

"Actually, I promised Clare I'd give you three years." I swallowed. "Anything longer than that will have to be negotiated."

That might not have been the answer he expected because it took a second for the smile to show up. "I'm really good at negotiating, you know."

"So I've heard."

Then my back was against the wall, my legs around his waist, his hands in my hair. Our clothes came off piece by piece somehow, but I didn't know whose hands did what. My fingers traced the muscles on his chest and abs, while my eyes stayed closed and my lips stayed on his. I unb.u.t.toned his jeans and yanked down while he pulled my dress over my head. He shuddered and pulled back slightly, holding me by the waist and looking at my body with dark, needy eyes.

"d.a.m.n, you're beautiful."

"You're such an easy man to please," I said, smiling.

"Only by you, Andi. Only by you."

Somehow, we made it to the couch, and then a little later, we got to the bedroom...with a few stops along the way. Maybe even a couple breaths. He was more than I'd ever wanted. More than I'd ever dreamed of.

Every kiss, every thrust, every second brought us closer together, until I couldn't remember a time without him. He'd given me nothing but pleasure, respect, and trust. And, thank the heavens, I'd finally figured out I deserved it. I'd messed up so many things in my life, but he'd refused to let me mess this up. And Hayden Bennett always got what he wanted.

After what seemed like hours-and was-we separated. "I should start calling you Lance Armstrong, you bike so well."

"I think we should stop using nicknames altogether, actually."

I grimaced. "Good point."

"Besides, Andi suits you. I never did think you looked like a Sara." When he reached out for the gla.s.s of water on my nightstand, his arm b.u.mped into the computer monitor that had been resting on top of it, waiting to be packed up. He tried to grab it but missed.

I cursed when I heard it shatter on the hardwood floor.

"Oops," he said shyly.

"Oops? You destroyed $300 worth of equipment my favorite client gave me, and all you can say is 'oops?'" I climbed partway on top of him to look down at the damage. "You're just lucky the monitor isn't where the important stuff is."

"I know." His lips ran across my collarbone, over my heart. "This is where the important stuff is." Then he took my face in his hands, forcing me to look into his eyes. "The monitor was what you used to hide behind. But not anymore, got it?"

"Got it." I had to speak, tell him everything. So while we were both still catching our breaths, I told him. Everything I kept hidden, everything I'd screwed up, everything I was. And he didn't hate me. He didn't pity me.

Nope, he loved me.

40.

Hayden I grabbed Andi by the waist and pulled her away from the trays. "You're going to make Clare regret having the party catered if you eat all the food."

"I can't help it." Slipping something into her mouth, she spun around and looked up at me with those dark brown eyes I'd never get bored of. "I'm nervous," she mumbled after swallowing. "And I eat when I'm nervous. Normally, I have to make do with chips, but this is way better, which is perfect because I'm really nervous."

"I can tell-it also makes you talk a lot."

She smacked my chest. "Be nice, Birthday Boy, or you won't get your present after everyone leaves. And believe me-"

I meant to shut her up with a quick kiss, but found myself, once again, losing track of everything else as soon as our lips touched. The last few months had been spectacular, so much more than I could've ever imagined. The Inspex project was in final negotiations, my new company was well on its way to becoming a force, and every day I got to come home to a beautiful, intelligent, spirited woman who drove me a little crazy in the best possible way.

"Break it up, you two," I heard Clare say behind me. "Your guests are getting restless."

"I'm the worst hostess in the history of hostesses, aren't I?"

Clare glanced at me for help. "Should I lie to her?"

Andi groaned and swiped another hors d'oeuvre off the tray.

"Ignore her," I said, taking Andi's hand. "Besides, this party isn't about you. It's about me."

We followed my ex-wife into the living room. With a lot of updating and construction, Andi's house had become ours, at least until we outgrew it. Obviously, we could've afforded a larger place closer to my office, but I knew how much this place meant to her. I just hoped that by the time we needed a few more bedrooms and a playroom, she'd be okay with the move. But that wasn't a concern...yet.

With an arm around Laney, my brother stared out the window, looking a bit lost. It wasn't like him to be uncomfortable at a party or anywhere else, for that matter. But as soon as he'd stepped through the door, I'd known something was off-he held Laney a little tighter, didn't make any lame jokes, and his smile seemed pasted on. When there weren't this many people around, I'd have to ask him what was wrong. Maybe it was time for some more brilliant advice only a brother could offer.

"Does everyone have a gla.s.s to raise?" Clare waited for everyone to nod and pick up their champagne flutes. "Great. I'd like to make a toast to a very special man, who-"

"Is this going to make me cry?" Carson grunted as Laney's elbow met his side.

"Hit him again, Laney. Only harder," Clare called. "Like I was saying, Hayden is a very special man, who-"

"Could I say something when you're done?" My stepsister Anna had an incredible ability to appear completely innocent with enough sa.s.s to convey her obvious guilt. It was her own special kind of skill.

"I want to, too."

"Can I go next?"

I lost track of who was speaking-Emilia, Laney, Real-Sara, Carson, Shannon. One by one all the incredible people in my and Andi's life spoke up and over my poor ex-wife, until even Clare was laughing.

"Seriously, people? Back off." Clare downed her remaining champagne, refilled her gla.s.s, and held it back up. "Hayden-I-love-you-Happy-Birthday-You're-the-best-ex-husband-I'll-ever-have," she said, all in a single breath. "Now which of you jerks is next?"

"I'm next," Andi said firmly and then grimaced. "Not that I'm a jerk, but..." She cleared her throat and started over, turning to face me. "Hayden-"

"Will you marry me?" It came out as a surprise to everyone, including me. This wasn't at all what I'd planned. The program I'd contracted someone to build and install on her laptop was almost done. Flowers would be delivered to the house. But not tonight.

All I had was the champagne, the woman I loved, and the ring.

"What?" was said in multiple voices, but only one mattered.

"What did you say?" Andi asked again.

"I was going to wait for the perfect moment to ask, but then I realized that every moment with you is perfect. Because we're perfect together, and I want it to last forever." I brushed a misbehaving lock of hair out of her eyes so I could see them. They were shining. "I want to marry you, Andi. I want you to be mine, forever."

Andi pressed her lips together and looked around the room at our friends, who were quiet for the first time in their lives. When she took my hands, I realized what was missing.

"Wait here," I said quickly, ignoring the communal groan as I ran to our bedroom and grabbed the small blue box I'd hidden in my drawer. I opened it up, took a picture, and then texted, 'Marry me.' Then, to make sure she saw the message, I yelled, "You'd better answer that!"

I stared at my phone, waiting. Held my breath when I saw the gray bubbles appear. Closed my eyes and let out a shuddering breath when I read her reply: 'Yes.'

And then another popped up, 'Now, get your a.s.s in here and seal the deal, Bennett.'

When I came back into the room, everyone was staring at me. None of them knew what had happened and, as much as I loved all of them, I didn't explain. I focused solely on the woman I was going to spend the rest of my life with.

As soon as I took the ring out of the box and slipped it on her finger, everyone cheered. Someone patted me on the back, while Real-Sara and Emilia pulled Andi away from me to hug her and admire the ring.

Clare held both my hands, squeezing them with excitement. "Please tell me I can plan your wedding. I know you said I should work on Carson's, but I swear, he's impossible. So who knows when that'll happen."

"Wait, he said what?" Carson's eyes were enormous as he looked at Clare, then me, then Laney, who thankfully hadn't heard the comment. "Dude, seriously?"

"Relax, little brother," I said quietly. "I didn't set a date or anything."

"Yeah, well... Still not cool."

"If you wait too long, you know that Laney could come to her senses, right?" I laughed.

"Thanks, Hay. Don't think I won't remember that." He turned his back on us, grumbling, "Like I need more pressure," under his breath.

After a lot of toasts and gla.s.ses of champagne, I finally got my hands back on Andi.

"That was by far the best text ever written," she said.

"And the longest wait for a reply."

She shrugged. "You should really work on your patience, Hayden."

"My patience? And here I was a.s.suming you were considering other offers."

"No way," she said, smiling. "In business, when you see something you want, you need to move in fast before anyone else swoops it up. But you can't let anyone know how badly you want it, or you get screwed in negotiations."

"Oh, you'll get screwed all right, my love." I kissed her. I kissed my fiance. "In fact, I think it's time everyone went home, don't you?"

"Patience, Mr. Bennett."

When Real-Sara asked where we were going to get married, all other conversation stopped.

Andi looked up at me. "I've heard good things about the Maldives." She wiggled her finger, asking me to bend down a little so she could whisper in my ear. "No extradition."