Permanent Ink (Something to Celebrate #1) (17 page)

His fingers slid away, and as she slipped her arms between his shoulders and the pillows, she felt the tip of him pushing against her. Without allowing herself a second thought, she gripped at his shoulder blades and pushed herself down.

She sat there on him, her thighs trembling, her mouth open, remotely aware of his hands caressing her back. After a moment, she adjusted her hips forward, and Ben moaned and thrust against her.

“I want to go slow,” he said.

And he did, painstakingly, sweetly, his jaw tight with concentration. His face was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, and she kissed his eyelids, his lips, his neck. His thrusting became quicker, pushing his shaft deeper inside of her. She tightened around him, tilting her hips.

“More,” she said breathlessly He complied, thrusting deeper and she rocked against him, his moans loud in her ear.

A rush of heat and power overcame her and she threw her head back, her knees digging into the bed. She was filled with wonder and an exquisite sweetness that consumed her as she began to fly apart.

“I want to make you come,” she murmured and then sucked in a breath as her orgasm took over, splintering her senses. She let out a hoarse cry.

With a loud moan, he stiffened beneath her, crushing her body against his. His hands splayed on her back trembled as he came, bucking against her.

When he sank beneath her, panting, she collapsed boneless against him, her face buried in his neck.

After a moment he shifted, trailing kisses on her jaw, capturing her mouth in a tender kiss. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered against her lips.

“I…” But she couldn’t put her feelings into words. They were too much. She lifted her head and gazed at him.

“I’m staying right here.” Ben stared at her, his eyes steady, comforting.

“Okay,” she whispered, allowing him to lift her up. Sighing, she sank down next to him, curling into his side, her head pillowed on his chest. Her thighs throbbed, and her heart was so full, she could barely breathe.

He gathered her close, stroking her hair, running his fingers through it and spreading it over his chest. “I’m yours, Blair.”

She gave in to tears.

Chapter Sixteen

The next morning when the alarm went off, Blair awoke with a gasp and sat straight up in bed. Something didn’t feel right. She felt…too alone. Where were Ben’s arms to curl around her, to coax her into the warm cradle of his body and into sleep? Sometime in the middle of the night, he’d moved restlessly and she’d rolled over, cradling his face as she kissed him. Soon the kissing had turned to touching and…

She caught her lower lip in her teeth and sighed, missing him, even as a smile crept around her lips. If he hadn’t reminded her of today’s events and insisted on taking her home, she would probably still be in his bed this very minute.

Shoving away the quilt tangling around her legs, she forced herself to take a deep breath and think. She needed to be at the decorations trailer by eight, hauling stuff out to stage it on the town commons. Then she had to set up tables, decorate them, and line the sidewalks with flower baskets. Attaching the ribbons to the flagpole would take at least an hour and from what Lola had told her, townspeople started showing up a good half hour in advance for events, and this one started at ten.

May Day had to go off without a hitch, or she’d never earn the respect of the town. And she needed that respect, because she planned to push Celebration to the limit with the parade contest.

Blair showered quickly, grabbed the May queen crown, and within twenty minutes was in the kitchen, dressed, her hair yanked back in a ponytail holder she’d found on the dining-room table. She pulled open the fridge door, but all the food for the event was missing.

Just as she was about to scream, she spied a note on the countertop.

Loaded all the food into your van and took it to the trailer for you. Use my convertible, okay? Sorry about last night, darling. Knock ’em dead today!

It was signed with Lola’s typical flourish.

Blair placed the note back on the counter and squeezed her eyes shut. The only thing she was likely to knock dead was herself, if she didn’t calm down. She tried taking a couple of deep breaths, but after a few seconds, she turned, snatched up the crown, bolted out the kitchen door and into Lola’s car.

When she reached downtown, it was quiet—except for the waking birds and the wind rustling the leaves on the trees. If she hadn’t been in such a hurry, she would have stopped and sat on a park bench for a few minutes. As it was, she rolled down the car window and gazed at the town commons, bathed in morning sunlight.

It really was pretty—a bit shabby, but then so was most of the town. It was peaceful, though, and in the short time she’d been here, she’d felt her city tension—the defensiveness, the manic pace—slowly unwinding and lifting away. It was nice.

But it wouldn’t last, because she was headed back to the city in a few months, wasn’t she? Yes.

Rolling up the window, Blair drove around the block and bumped through the rutted alley. She parked next to the trailer, but before she could reach for the door handle, it swung open. Her heart leaped at the sight of Ben, who stood there, sleepy-eyed and grinning, a cup of coffee in his hands.

“Hey.” His gaze traveled over her. “You’re gorgeous, Firefly.”

“Thanks.” Blair smoothed the skirt of her cotton print dress. “I always feel better managing an event when I dress up a little bit. And look…” She patted her side, reached into a pocket hidden in the folds and pulled out her notebook. “My list.”

Ben groaned. “What’s the first thing on the agenda?”

“This.”

Smiling, Blair climbed the cinder-block steps and wrapped her arms around his neck to kiss him. He tasted like coffee—and that irresistible spiciness that she couldn’t get enough of.

“Mmm,” he said, when she pulled away from him.

“And now we work,” she stated.

“Tease.”

“I won’t tease for long,” she found herself saying.

“I hope to hell not.” Ben ran his warm hand down her bare arm and turned reluctantly back inside the trailer.

She followed, plunking her notebook down on the kitchen counter.

“You’re going to set up tables in that dress?” he asked.

“I sure am. You wouldn’t believe what I’ve managed in the past wearing a cocktail dress and four-inch heels.” She glanced down at the espadrilles on her feet. “But for Celebration? These are perfect.”

“Agreed. Because I know so much about women’s fashion,” he said drily.

Blair laughed and opened the refrigerator to double-check the refreshments. All of the food was there, and next to a stack of ClingWrap-covered cupcakes, there was a chocolate-chip muffin with a sticky note attached to the wrapper.

You need to eat. Xoxo.

–Lola.

“Nice.” Blair grabbed it and pulled the wrapper away to take a bite. “Ready to start decorating? We can wait on the tables. The ladies won’t be by to get the food for a while.”

“I’d rather stand here and watch you wander around in that dress, but okay.”

With a wink, Ben set down his coffee and grabbed an armful of flower baskets.

A couple of hours later, only slightly sweaty, Blair stood on the sidewalk, staring up at the town’s flagpole. It wasn’t a bare, rusted rod anymore—it was amazing. All of the pastel braided ribbons were attached and pulled taut, anchored to the ground. On the top of the pole, Ben had fastened a huge bouquet of flowers, with greenery trailing down.

“Oh, wow,” she said with a sigh.

She looked left and right at the tables set up on either side of the sidewalk bisecting the commons. They had skirts, were laid out with refreshments, and were each manned by a rosy-cheeked woman with flowers in her hair. Exactly as Blair had specified on her list.

Her list!
She reached toward the pocket of her dress, but the notebook wasn’t there. She’d left it in the trailer, and for the first time in her life, she was actually glad not to have to keep up with it. She wanted to enjoy herself.

Her heart still thumped with anticipation, though, and forcing a smile, she strolled slowly down the sidewalk, greeting the early arrivers—farmers and high school kids, mothers with strollers, and the seniors from Sunnyside.

When she made her way back to the gazebo, the posts of which were covered with trailing flower garlands, she noticed Kaley and a group of look-alike high school girls standing in a clump off to the right, on the steps. In the middle of the group of girls, towering over them, was Ben. He lifted a long floral garland and a staple gun. With an exaggerated grunt, he smacked the stapler against the wood underneath the roof. The girls giggled, and Blair felt a smile splitting her face.

She stood there for a few seconds, watching, as the last of the nerves in the pit of her stomach turned to a warm glow. When Ben caught her eye, happiness welled up inside and she had to force herself not to run to him and fling her arms around his solid middle. She walked, her smile growing bigger. The girls giggled again and then scattered like a flock of birds, talking a mile a minute. Kaley gave Blair a small wave.

“Thanks for helping,” Blair called to her.

“I didn’t do anything but braid about twenty miles of ribbon for the Maypole,” Kaley yelled back, pointing at Ben. “The tattoo hottie is the one to thank for decorating the entire gazebo.” She jogged after her friends.

Blair turned to Ben, who stared after the girls, shaking his head. “You know they call you that, like,
all
the time?” she said, mimicking her cousin’s cadence of speech.

“Kind of creepy,” he muttered and set the stapler on a step of the gazebo. “So…I tried to call you a few minutes ago to make sure this was what you wanted.” He gestured at the flower garlands.

She tilted her chin back, drinking in the sparkle in his brown eyes. A lightness filled her, and she couldn’t quit smiling. “You know what?”

“What?” He reached out and smoothed a strand of her hair away from her cheek.

“I don’t even know where my phone is,” she confessed.

He snorted. “That’s incredible. What did you do last night after I took you home…tie one on?”

“Yeah, I did. If you’re talking about tying ribbons on that May queen crown.” She slipped the spruced-up circle of flowers over her arm and slid her hands in the pocket of her dress. “It didn’t take that long, but then I had trouble going to sleep.”

He leaned against the railing. “I did, too.”

On impulse she reached out and slipped her free arm around his waist. “Thank you, Ben, for a wonderful night,” she whispered and leaned up to kiss his cheek.

He turned suddenly and his lips met hers, lingering in a kiss so sweet it made her ache. “You’re welcome,” he murmured, and then as a whistle sounded behind them, he stepped back, grinning. “Let’s get our May Day on.”

Blair pressed her tingling lips together and turned to find the source of the whistle. Her eyebrows flew up. It had been Marcus, who stood a few feet away wearing a polo shirt, jeans, and mirrored sunglasses. She’d only seen him a couple of times, but he looked completely different out of his smooth suit. “Hi,” she said, giving him a weak wave.

“Hey,” he answered, walking over. “Everything looks great, Blair.”

“Oh, I’m glad you like it.”

Ben nudged her. “She planned an amazing event, yeah?”

Marcus smiled. “Ivy’s happy, and that makes me happy. Speaking of…” He pointed a finger toward the flagpole. “The mayor awaits.”

Blair checked her watch. It wasn’t on her wrist and a disbelieving laugh bubbled to the surface. Taking a breath, she turned to Ben. “What time is it?”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Ten.”

“Where’s Mildred?” Blair shaded her eyes and looked over the crowd.

“Don’t worry, you won’t be able to miss her when she shows up,” Marcus said drily. “Hope you have sunglasses.”

“Okay?” Blair laughed and realized that of course she didn’t have sunglasses. But she could have used them, because the morning was bright and the chill that had been in the air for the past couple of weeks was gone. The grass was now almost completely green, and the oak trees were becoming thick with leaves. It was officially spring, and she was responsible for kicking it into gear.

She hopped up the steps and placed the crown on a bench inside the gazebo. “If we’re not waiting for Mildred, I need to gather up the kids and we can get started.”

“I’ll help,” Ben offered. When she walked back down the steps, he gave her ponytail a gentle tug and ambled down the sidewalk in front of her, humming.

She followed, and within a few minutes, squirmy children ranging from tiny toddlers to bored-looking tween girls ringed around the pole. Moms rushed forward to help the littlest ones take hold of ribbons, and Blair reached down to a portable CD player sitting on the pavement. With a nod to Ivy, who stood off to the side smiling, Blair started the waltz music and instantly, there was chaos. Utter and complete chaos.

It was nothing like what she’d pictured after doing research online. In those images, little girls dressed in frothy gowns skipped neatly in a circle, their chubby little hands wound around ribbons.

Not in Celebration. Sure, the kids went around, but they also spun like mini-Tasmanian devils, wrapping themselves in ribbon, snapping some off the pole as they shrieked in delight. Blair stared, openmouthed, as one determined little grade-schooler snatched a handful of ribbons and jerked, squealing as they broke free of the top of the pole and cascaded around her. The little girl gathered them up and scampered onto the grass. “I won!” she yelled.

She won? What had she won?
Blair started forward, but Ben, chuckling, grabbed her arm. “Let them have at it,” he said.

“You haven’t won yet,” shouted another kid. Blair watched in horror as he hurled himself at the pole and began to climb.

“Ryder!” a woman said in a piercing screech. “Get down from there right now or your Xbox is going in the trash can!” The kid froze and then slid back down the pole, running away. “Yeah, I thought so,” the woman called. At least Blair thought that’s what she’d said, but it was hard to tell amidst the mayhem.

“Um…” She looked up at Ben. “What the eff is going on?”

“The kids try to see who can get the most ribbons. The one with the most gets a prize,” he said simply.

“A prize? I don’t have a prize,” she muttered, her mind racing to think of how she was going to come up with something in…wow. About ten seconds. Because one of the bigger girls had managed to score about half of the ribbons. The other kids scrambled around the pole, which had been snatched bald. The flowers on top teetered at a crooked angle and then fell to the ground with a
plop.

Blair pointed at them. “How about those?”

Ben looked at the pathetic clump and then looked at the girl with the ribbons. “I have a better idea. Hold still.”

A second later, Blair felt his fingers in her hair and she twisted around. “What are you—”

“I said to hold still.” He gently tugged at the base of her ponytail and her hair tumbled free, falling into her eyes. She pushed it back. “I don’t see what—”

She looked at the jeweled clasp in his hands. “Ohh, I get it,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Kaley will kill me. That’s her favorite one.” But all the same, she took it from him and walked forward, making a show of presenting it to the girl, who squealed and jumped up and down.

From across the grass, Ben gave her a thumbs-up and grinned. She took a moment to look at him—the wave of his dark hair, his amazing jawline, his eyes. His eyebrows, so wicked, quirked up in amusement. A wave of desire jolted through her and she looked away. She’d just been turned on by his
eyebrows
. She needed to get a grip.

Fortunately, a ripple of conversation distracted her, and she turned to look where the kids were pointing and it was then she understood why Marcus had suggested sunglasses.

Mildred Parkett stood on the edge of the commons looking like a neon ball of crazy. Her dress had to be vintage seventies and it was the most fascinatingly ugly garment Blair had ever seen. The double-knit horror was lime green with a massive rainbow print and a billowing skirt. It was accented by filmy, orange-chiffon sleeves, which were dotted with sequins…and the woman’s shoes? Blair would have believed that they’d been snatched right out of Oz, if Dorothy had worn bright purple platform sandals instead of ruby slippers. Mildred was a psychedelic fairy and there was no getting around it.