Marriage Matters

Eighty

Chloe was running late. Her stupid curling iron was broken, so she dragged out an old set of Clairol rollers from the back of the linen closet. They were covered in a layer of dust and even after ten minutes they were barely hot to the touch.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit.” Chloe looked at the clock. “Hurry up!” She only had an hour until she was supposed to be at the church to help her grandmother get ready. By the time she tamed her hair, got dressed and called a cab, she would be lucky if she got to the church on time.

Picking up her phone, Chloe called her mother and put her on speaker. “Hey,” she barked when Kristine picked up. Grabbing a lukewarm roller, she started wrapping her hair around it. “I might be five minutes late. Or thirty.”

“It’s a good thing you’re not getting married today,” her mother sang. “You’d be late for your own wedding.”

“Ha-ha.” Chloe cringed at the thought. Geez. It really was a good thing she wasn’t getting married today, in more ways than one. “Alright. I love you. See you—”

There was a pounding at the door and Chloe stood stock-still. The series of knocks were more than a little familiar. Quickly, she said, “Mom? I’ve gotta go.”

Whiskers was already at the door by the time Chloe got there. Reaching out to open it, she remembered the curlers in her hair. Shit! Oh, well. It wasn’t like Ben hadn’t seen her like this before.

Chloe threw open the door. “I’m sorry about my hair,” she said. “I look . . .” Her voice trailed off as she took in the sight of him.

Ben was devastatingly handsome in a navy blue suit. His hair was cut close to his head and a slight shadow of a beard covered his face. His eyes were the most radiant shade of blue that she had ever seen.

Chloe gulped. Suddenly, she had no idea what to say. “Um . . .”

Reaching down, Ben pet Whiskers. The cat weaved in and out of his legs, purring like crazy. Dropping a new toy on the floor, Whiskers batted at it in delight. Chloe couldn’t fight the smile that stretched across her face. Ben was so good-looking and so . . . kind that it just seemed a little unfair. In fact, she wanted to kick him in the shins.

Getting to his feet, Ben grinned. “Should I come back? Give you a few minutes? I mean, I don’t know if you’re planning on pulling out your makeup chart or . . .”

Chloe laughed. “No, no. Come on in.” As he walked past her, she had to put a hand on the wall as though to steady herself or, rather, to not reach out and try to tackle him.

“You alright?” he asked, turning to face her.

Actually, no. The sight of him in that suit was almost too much to handle.

“I’m just happy,” Chloe said, her voice a little too bright. “Happy my grandmother’s getting married and happy that . . .” Holding his gaze for a moment too long, her bravado slipped. “I’m happy that I’m just a guest at the wedding,” she admitted. “And that I’m going there with you.”

Ben’s gaze melded into hers. “Yeah. Me, too.”

Whiskers scampered across the room, the new toy jingling away.

Dropping her eyes, Chloe headed for the bathroom. She chided herself for being so ridiculous. The only way that she and Ben could go back to being friends was if she’d stop acting like some schoolgirl with a crush. Maybe he’d been in love with her at some point, but that didn’t mean he was anymore. A lot had happened, a lot had changed. She needed to stop thinking about it and just get on with her life.

She could start by taking the stupid rollers out of her hair.

“Have a seat or something,” she called. “I’m sure there are some magazines or something for you to look at. I’ll be ready in—”

Suddenly, Chloe felt two strong arms wrap around her from behind. She sucked in a sharp breath as Ben turned her toward him and pulled her in close. Her face was squashed into the sharply starched lapels of his suit, but she couldn’t imagine a better feeling. Other than, of course, the hard sinew of his body underneath his clothes and the strength of his thighs against hers. They held each other for a long moment, their hearts beating with the same frenetic rhythm.

“Oh, man,” Chloe finally said, her voice muffled. “I don’t think I can do this.”

Ben’s body seemed to stiffen. “Do what?”

“Pretend like this is a f*cking friendship hug.”

Ben was silent for a moment. The only sound in the room was Whiskers batting at her new toy. “That’s good news,” he said. “Because this isn’t going to be friendly at all.”

Taking her face in his hands, Ben crashed his mouth into hers. Chloe felt a jolt of desire more powerful than violence rush through her as he probed her lips open with his tongue and his mouth melted into hers. Her robe fell open and his hands were everywhere as he kissed her face, her neck and her body.

In a tangle of flesh and joy, Ben lifted her up and carried her over the threshold of the bedroom.