More Than Love, page 2
Then there was Ben. Having him in her life on a daily basis was like inhaling a breath of fresh air. He was such an important part of her world. Though they talked on occasion when she lived in Columbus, now they spent much of their free time together.
Makena turned onto her street and the corners of her mouth lifted into a smile at the sight of Ben’s white Range Rover pulling into her driveway. They couldn’t have timed their arrival better even if they had planned it.
As she pulled into the driveway, Makena pushed the button for the garage door opener and watched as it slowly slid up. Ben drove into the garage and parked on the right-hand side, and she slid in on the left.
She had barely shut off her car and closed the overhead garage door when Ben appeared on the driver’s side of her vehicle. Her heart did a little jig at the sight of him. It never failed, especially lately. Whenever she saw him or was in his presence, her body sparked to life and a tingling sensation skittered across her skin.
What was wrong with her? This was Ben. She shouldn’t be having these feelings about her friend. It was getting harder and harder to deny that she wanted him as much as he claimed to want her.
Just stay strong, Makena reminded herself. We have too much to lose.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said when he pulled the car door open. That suggestive grin—the one that always made her pulse beat a little faster—spread across his sexy lips.
“Hey, yourself.” She shamelessly loved when he called her beautiful, sweetheart, or baby. The words seeped into her soul and always made her feel special and cherished. Was she that hard up for a romantic love that sweet terms of endearments made her giddy inside?
Yes came the loud voice in her head. She hadn’t been intimate with a man since her ex-husband. Her mind and body craved the attention of a man, especially when that man was Ben.
Stop! Stop! Stop! She berated herself. This line of thinking had to stop before she did something stupid.
Like leap into his arms and tell him that she wanted him more than she wanted her next breath.
Makena grabbed hold of his gloved hand and let him pull her from the seat. “Thank you. I’m surprised you beat me here. How was your day?” she asked, grabbing her laptop case from the backseat.
“Better now. How was yours?”
She let them into the house and glanced at the shopping bag and duffel bag in Ben’s hands. It looked like he picked up more than dessert.
Makena went through her usual routine. She kicked off her shoes in the foyer, set her large handbag on the first step that led to the second floor, and went about turning on a couple of lights.
“So you were going to bail out and leave me with the painting, huh?” she asked, returning to the foyer.
Ben hung his overcoat in the front closet, not responding to her comment.
Makena jammed her hands on her hips. “Well?”
“I told you my plan for the painting. It would get done. Just not by us. I would’ve preferred to spend the evening with you listening to some live jazz.”
He grinned and his dimples winked at her, sending a crackle of heat racing through her body. She should be immune to his boyish good looks, but lately, everything about the man turned her on.
God help me. I have to be strong.
Ben’s appreciative gaze raked over her charcoal-gray skirted suit on down to the matching three-inch heels that buckled around the ankle. “You look gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” Makena always felt extra-feminine in the outfit.
As Ben continued taking her in, she did the same to him.
As a corporate lawyer, he wore a suit every day and not just any suit. Like the one he had on, they all molded perfectly to his fit body, as if tailored specifically for him. The brown tweed three-piece ensemble, paired with a beige shirt and print tie, looked like money. Sophisticated and powerful, similar to his personality. He was one of the nicest men she knew, but a force to be reckoned with in the courtroom.
Her gaze settled back on his face and the smoothness of his cinnamon-toned skin and his sensual mouth. Normally, she was attracted to rugged men, but Ben stimulated something so carnal inside of her. Something she had never experienced before, not even with Preston. Ben was always well groomed, clean-shaven, and meticulously dressed, but it was those pretty, light-brown eyes that made her heart do cartwheels inside her chest.
Makena swallowed hard. Those gorgeous eyes were still her weakness. She’d been attracted to Ben since they were kids. Back then, it had been a childhood crush, but that crush had blossomed into something so much stronger. Especially in the last six months. Something had shifted between them. Something powerfully intense.
The way he studied her and the slight smile on his sexy lips, made her cheeks heat. If Makena didn’t know better, she would think he could read minds. Even if she insisted they just be friends, the way he was still checking her out should’ve been inappropriate. But she’d be lying if she said that she didn’t like the attention.
“When are you going to stop running from me? Running from—”
“What’s in the shopping bag?” she interrupted. He found every opportunity to bring up the subject. Unfortunately, it was getting harder and harder to shoot down the idea. The nightly dreams and daytime fantasies she’d been having of him weren’t helping matters.
Ben stared at her, looking as if he wanted to say more. Instead, he headed to her kitchen and started pulling several food containers from the shopping bag.
“You cooked?”
He was an amazing cook and prepared meals for her whenever his busy schedule allowed.
“Not this time. Leftovers from my mom. You’ll be happy to know she made a banana pudding.” He held up a plastic see-through container. “Of course there’s enough for two.”
Makena grinned as she rinsed her hands in the kitchen sink. “Of course. She takes such good care of us.” Makena had fond memories of her and her brothers hanging out at the Jenkins’ house when they were kids. Theirs was the fun house and every visit included some type of food.
For the next few minutes, she and Ben sat at the small kitchen table talking while she munched on dinner. They agreed to save the banana pudding for after they painted. As they discussed their workday, she couldn’t help but think how perfect it was to spend another Friday night with him.
After Makena finished eating, she and Ben changed into painting clothes. Now they stood in the middle of her home office where she had already covered the equipment and furniture. Looking around, Makena was starting to have second thoughts about the painting job. When she originally came up with the bright idea to do the painting herself, she forgot how much work was involved.
“Are you sure about this?” Ben asked dryly. “BJ is only a phone call away,” he said of his youngest son the painter.
Makena looked around. They were going to have to prime one of the walls—the one that was currently burgundy—before they could paint it. The others that were beige should be fine to go over with the soft gray paint she had purchased.
“I’m sure. Let’s do this.”
Ben had already brought in the aluminum ladder from the garage. He started taping off the ceiling, while Makena started taping the baseboards.
She glanced at him when he climbed down the ladder, moved it over and went back up. It was no surprise that he was comfortable that high off the floor. When he and his siblings were growing up, they helped with the family’s construction business.
Makena had been surprised that when his father, Steven Jenkins, was ready to retire, no one wanted to take over the business. At least not until Ben’s niece, Peyton, stepped forward. Her leadership turned the company into a multimillion-dollar business that had been thriving ever since.
They worked in silence, making quick work of protecting the ceiling and baseboards until Ben asked, “Do you know the proper way to paint?” He explained the importance of starting with cutting in, where the paintbrush is used first to take care of the areas too hard to get with a roller.
“Do you have to work tomorrow?” Ben asked as he started cutting in around the ceiling with his paintbrush. Makena followed his lead and did the same around the baseboards.
She was slow to respond to his question. His mention of work prompted thoughts of Edward, and she reminded herself to keep her mouth shut about the guy. She wanted so bad to tell Ben about him, but she couldn’t.
Instead she said, “Yeah, I need to put in a few hours tomorrow.”
“Have you thought anymore about joining me at my firm?” He had asked before she moved back to Cincinnati, and he continued asking every few months—as if she’d change her mind. “I promise to make sure you have Saturdays off,” he added.
Makena smiled as she dipped her brush into the paint pan. “As tempting as that sounds, my answer is still no. Ben, I already told you. I don’t want us mixing business with personal.”
“And I told you that it wouldn’t be a problem. We don’t have an estate attorney, and I’d love to have you on my team.”
“I don’t have to work in your office to be on your team. I’ll always be here for you.”
He climbed down from the ladder. “And that’s why I’ll always—”
“Don’t.” Makena held up her paintbrush. “Don’t say it. I already know.” For a person who rarely showed or expressed emotion, he told her on more than one occasion that he loved her. He never said he was in love with her, but the way he treated her spoke volumes.
Ben tugged the front of her T-shirt and pulled her to him before placing a sweet kiss on her cheek. “As long as you know how I feel.”
Makena’s insides quivered with pleasure at their closeness. “I know. Now get back to work. We have a lot to do.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He turned and bumped into her, and a paintbrush stain landed on the front of her shirt.
Makena gasped. “Ben! You did that on purpose!”
His eyes grew wide. “I’m…I’m sorry,” he said, his lips twitching seconds before he burst out laughing. Each time Ben tried to speak, he’d howl all over again. “Sweet—sweetheart, I did not—”
“Save it!” She ran her brush down his left arm, leaving a long white streak. “Now, we’re even.”
Ben’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, no, we’re not!”
Makena screamed when his arm snaked around her waist. “Don’t you dare!” she yelled, and wiggled against him, trying to get out of his tight hold as he added globs of paint to her shirt and ratty jeans. “Ben! I cannot believe you. Oh, man. It’s on now!”
They wrestled for each other’s paintbrushes as paint landed everywhere but on the walls. Before Makena realized it, they were rolling around on the plastic that was covering the floor. Her glass-shattering shrieks filled the space, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so hard.
“Stop!” she giggled, struggling to catch her breath as she squirmed beneath him, still tagging him with paint. “Ben! St—stop!” She couldn’t stop laughing as tears blurred her vision.
“You stop, because I’m not stopping until you let go of your weapon,” he huffed, trying to dodge the paintbrush in her hand. He finally got hold of her wrist and shook it. “Drop it!”
“Okay, okay, okay. I quit,” Makena wheezed, dropping the brush. Laying on her back, chest heaving and arms and legs spread wide, she stared up at the ceiling feeling as if she had just gone ten rounds with Evander Holyfield. Ben laid down beside her, his breaths coming in short spurts. The room was a mess, but Makena couldn’t deny that painting each other had been way more fun than painting the walls.
“I’m too old for painting.” Ben gasped for air and felt around on the floor until he found her hand. He linked his fingers with hers. “I’ll call BJ in the morning.”
There was no way Makena was going to argue. She should’ve gone with his idea in the first place. “Deal. I’ll pay whatever he charges. Now, how about that banana pudding?”
*
Hours later, Ben slowly opened his eyes. The few remaining embers in the fireplace were now ash, and the television was the only thing illuminating the cozy living room. He glanced down at the top of Makena’s head. She was sound asleep against his chest. How many times had he awakened like this?
This was how most of their movie nights ended up—the television watching them.
Makena had barely made it through the opening scene of the action flick before she started nodding off. Ben didn’t mind, it gave him an excuse to pull her close. This was what he wanted all the time. After his divorce, he vowed never to get seriously involved with a woman. Sure, he’d had his share of female companionship, but no one who made him want to share his life with them. Nothing like what he and Makena shared.
Ben gave her a slight shake. “Mac, sweetheart, wake up so you can get in bed.” He called her name several times before she spoke.
“I’m not asleep,” she said groggily and didn’t move.
“Do you want me to carry you to bed?” Ben asked, half joking.
She bolted upright. “I’m awake.”
He laughed and shook his head, knowing that would wake her up.
Makena threw off the light blanket covering them and stood. It had taken them forever to clean the paint off of themselves. Ben always loved spending time with her, but wrestling around when they were supposed to be painting, had been a blast. All of the stresses of the week had fallen away and allowed them to turn into two big kids. It turned out to be a fun, but exhausting, evening. A good exhaustion, though.
Ben’s body stirred when Makena stretched and her shirt lifted, revealing her almost-flat stomach. She wasn’t thin or fat, but had just enough meat on her bones to entice him. He still remembered the first time he realized his feelings for her had changed.
They were meeting up at a networking event, and she’d been running late. Ben had been anxious for her arrival, and when she eventually showed up, his breath had caught in his throat. He’d seen her dressed up plenty of times, but there had been something different about her that night. Something so soul-stirringly powerful that at that moment, he no longer saw her as his best friend.
He saw her as the woman he had fallen in love with.
“Are you staying the night?” Makena asked, bringing him back to the present.
“Is that an invitation?”
She jammed her hands onto her hips and narrowed her eyes. “Let me rephrase that. It’s late. You’re welcome to use the guest room.”
Ben stood and moved closer, sliding his arm around her waist. Instead of pulling away the way he expected, Makena leaned into him, her head resting on his chest.
“What if I want to stay in your room?”
She lifted her head and pursed her lips. “Fine. I’ll sleep in the guest room.” After placing a quick kiss on his cheek, she started to pull away, but Ben held tight. She fit perfectly in his arms and he loved having her softness hugged up against him.
When she gazed up at him, he brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek. “We’ve shared a bed in the past. Why can’t we now?”
He knew why, but he wanted to hear her response. During their undergrad, when they attended college in different cities, occasionally they’d visit each other. He’d either camp out on the floor or share her bed. Their relationship had always been platonic.
Today was different.
Ben was more than ready to cross that invisible line that would lead to a romantic connection. He knew she wanted the same thing, but fear kept her from giving in to her feelings.
“How long are we going to keep doing this?” he asked.
“How long are you going to keep pushing?”
Ben smiled. “You know I’m relentless when it comes to something…or someone I want. Life is short, sweetheart. I know our feelings are mutual, but you’re letting fear keep you from having the type of relationship we both want. Why not give us a shot and see what happens?”
Makena huffed out a breath and gently pushed against his chest until he released her. “And risk ruining our friendship? No, thank you. I did that with Preston.”
“I’m not Preston. What you and I have is different than what you had with your ex.”
“True, but…” She nibbled on her bottom lip, and her brown-eyed gaze studied him. “What if we destroy what we have?”
“We won’t,” Ben said with confidence, believing they were destined to be together. He reached for her, but she stepped back. “Makena.”
“Ben…go to bed.” She turned and walked toward the stairs that led to the bedrooms. “Oh, and I changed my mind.”
His heart leaped with excitement in his chest. “About?”
“Our sleeping arrangement.” Her smile turned wicked. “I have dibs on the master bedroom. I’m sure you’ll be comfortable in the guest room. Have a good night.”
Ben chuckled and watched her ascent up the stairs. “You know you’re wrong for that,” he called out. Despite her tossing him in the guest room, he wasn’t discouraged.
She’ll be mine one day.
It was only a matter of time.
Chapter Three
The next morning, Makena showered and slipped into a sweatshirt and yoga pants. Even though it was Saturday, and she didn’t need to be in the office until later in the afternoon, she hadn’t planned to sleep past ten. The enticing aroma of strong coffee, cinnamon, and something equally delicious-smelling crept up the stairs to her bedroom.
She had no choice but to get up and satisfy her foggy brain and grumbling stomach. The scents filling the air lured Makena from her bedroom and to the stairs. She cooked often. Yet, there was just something about when Ben cooked. The creations he prepared in her kitchen always made her mouth water.
One thing about snagging a Jenkins man—you were guaranteed to get a guy who could cook his butt off.
Makena’s breath caught and she stopped dead in the middle of the staircase. Snagging a Jenkins man. The words bounced around in her mind. What was wrong with her? She couldn’t be thinking of Ben that way.
They were friends.
That’s it.
