Point Pleasant (65 page)

“That was a long time ago.”

“You pulled Lizzie Collins out of a fire. You went out without the shotgun when you thought your officers were in danger. You ran into the woods the other night because you thought you could save someone. You took a bullet because you’re brave, Nic. Maybe you felt nothing, but that’s still not something just anyone does.”

Nicholas looked away. Ben cupped the sheriff’s face in his hands and gently tilted it toward his own. He searched for Nicholas’ eyes, but Nicholas seemed reluctant to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry you feel otherwise,” Ben whispered. “I’m sorry you didn’t care. I’m sorry for whatever part I played to make you feel like that.”

“It’s not you, Ben,” Nicholas said. “I just don’t know what I’m doing sometimes. It all feels like a lie. There are better qualified people who could do a helluva lot better job than me.”

“Nic, people respect the fuck out of you. I’ve only been here a week, but I’ve seen it every day. Astrid and Daniel, I don’t think they’d have gone out to the factory if anyone else had asked them to.”

“They’re friends.”

“Yeah, but they’re also your deputies. And they’d follow you to hell and back. Literally, apparently. Because you are good at what you do. You’re what this town needs.”

“You didn’t seem to think so that first day,” Nicholas replied with a rueful snicker.

“I’m a mouthy little shit.”

Nicholas let out a loud laugh at Ben’s candidness. “You are indeed.”

“Besides, I’m sorry, how the fuck was I supposed to act around you?” Ben asked, captivated by the gentle rub of stubble as he ran his fingertips down Nicholas’ jawline again. “The center of my every adolescent fantasy all grown up with a badge and a gun.”

Nicholas rolled his eyes, but he smiled. “I do like when you call me ‘Sheriff.’”

“I’ve noticed,
Sheriff
.”

“
Only
your adolescent fantasies, though?” Nicholas asked, pressing another kiss to Ben’s forehead. “I’m disappointed.”

“That’s complicated,” Ben replied in a voice that was hushed to a whisper.

Nicholas shifted so that they were side by side once more, and he draped his other arm over Ben’s waist. “Did you ever hate me?”

“Never,” Ben replied in earnest. “Well, maybe the other night when you locked me up.”

“Sorry,” Nicholas said, grimacing.

“I never hated you for walking away, Nic. I never expected you to do anything else.”

Nicholas hesitated before he brushed his fingertips down Ben’s back. “Did you ever not love me?”

“I told you that never went away. I don’t think that kind of thing
can
go away.”

“I don’t think so either,” Nicholas said. “Have you ever been in love with anyone else?”

“Not really. Like I said before, you were kind of the beginning and the end for me.”

“What does ‘not really’ mean, though? Either you have been or you haven’t been, right?”

“I’ve had a few relationships,” Ben said, shrugging. “The last one could have turned into something more if I had let it.”

“If you let it?”

“Ah, I’m emotionally evasive.”

“Did you date your therapist?” Nicholas asked, and he huffed out a small laugh.

“No, not mine,” Ben snickered. “But Peter was one, yeah.”

“Peter.” Nicholas spoke the name with a carefully placid tone, and Ben realized the sheriff wanted to know more.

“It wasn’t that serious,” Ben assured him. “He wanted it to be, I didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Just didn’t,” Ben said. “I never felt much for him.”

“So it wasn’t like this?”

“Nothing’s ever been like this,” Ben whispered. “What about you, though?”

“What about me?”

“You said before you haven’t been with anyone serious since Lily. That’s a long time to not be with anyone.”

“I’ve been with women,” Nicholas said quietly. “I told you before.”

“Did they always make you feel bad, though?”

“I don’t know how to be with someone,” Nicholas said after a moment. “Most of all you. And that’s crazy because you’re all I wanted. For all these years, I always wanted it to be you. And now I just—”

“You’re doing just fine,” Ben whispered, sliding a hand down Nicholas’ back. “You made me pancakes.”

Nicholas tried to smile, but it slipped away as quickly as it emerged. He placed yet another kiss to Ben’s forehead. “I would have given anything for you to answer your phone at least one of those times I called. Just one. You could have told me to fuck off and hung up, but I would have been happy to hear your voice outside of that old message that used to play.”

“I’ll answer now,” Ben whispered. “And even if I don’t, you know where I’ll be.”

“Just around the corner,” Nicholas said, his tone thoughtful. “Like old times.”

The Twilight Zone
theme sounded from behind them as a new episode started. A sudden wave of nostalgia crushed Ben in its wake.

“Do you know how many times we used to watch complete shit together and all I wanted to do was hold your hand?” he asked. “How many times just sitting next to you in the Marquee made me happy for no fucking reason other than the fact that you were
there
.”

Nicholas took Ben’s right hand in his without deliberation. He kissed the knuckles before he laced their fingers together.

Ben’s heartbeat raced; the steady
thump-thump-thump
was deafening in his ears as Nicholas squeezed his hand. Warm breath tingled against Ben’s neck when Nicholas leaned close.

“I want to take you upstairs,” he whispered, his lips grazing Ben’s earlobe. “Please.”

“I want that too.”

Ben did not release the sheriff’s hand as they rose to their feet. Nicholas flicked the television off and led them upstairs. The bed was neatly made.

They undressed and tangled themselves together under the sheets. Nicholas entwined their fingers once more. He kissed with such fervor that Ben had the impression the other man was attempting to make up for every time Ben had wanted to hold his hand but could not.

Ben went low, trailing his lips down Nicholas’ torso, but Nicholas maneuvered him upwards and tugged him close. Their bodies aligned, and Ben relished the comfort of Nicholas’ weight atop him.

The preparation was a prolonged and attentive process that placed Ben on the brink of delirium. When Nicholas’ hard length sank all the way into Ben’s welcoming form, it felt like coming home.

“Ben,” Nicholas said, stilling as he drew in a sharp breath and repeated his words from downstairs. “Stay forever.”

Ben nodded wordlessly. He pulled Nicholas into a kiss, and their lips moved together just as Nicholas began to thrust.

Ben tilted his hips to meet every inward push. Nicholas took Ben’s other hand and their fingers interlocked like the rest of their bodies. Ben squeezed Nicholas’ hands in return and whispered hushed, secret words into his ear. Words he had never told anyone else, words he would never tell another soul.

Nicholas came shortly after Ben’s own orgasm had risen high and sent him fumbling into a tailspin. His eyes were wide and wet with a trace of tears. Ben kissed through Nicholas’ hair as they trembled through the aftershocks. Nicholas wrapped his arms around Ben, and his strength felt like an affirmation.

They greeted the next morning with long, languid kisses in the shower and coffee and toast in the kitchen. Ben sat on a countertop with his arms and legs draped around Nicholas’ back as Nicholas sucked a hickey into the base of his neck.

Nicholas’ badge caught on Ben’s shirt when he tried to pull away, and Ben laughed. When it was untangled, Ben reached forward and straightened the gilded star with care.

A contented smile played at Nicholas’ lips. He brushed a hand through Ben’s hair and helped him off the counter. “Will I see you tonight?”

“I hope so.”

“Come over if you want. Even if it’s late.”

Their mouths met once more, and Nicholas pressed Ben against the wall by the fridge. Ben tried to pinpoint the exact moment from the night before when the kissing had started and never really stopped, but he lost track of the thought as Nicholas’ tongue slid across his front teeth.

“Sheriff, you have to go to work,” Ben chided with reluctance when a familiar hardness nudged his thigh.

Nicholas grumbled and glanced up at the clock. “Seven minutes,” he observed and took a deep breath. “Talk to me about something boring.”

“Well, I’m gonna go home and write something.”

“Yeah?” Nicholas asked with interest. “I didn’t know you were writing.”

“I’m not, not really. Just getting some ideas out.”

Nicholas followed Ben to the entry hall where he grabbed his duty belt and buckled it around his waist while Ben put on his shoes.

“What’s your idea?”

“I don’t do spoilers,” Ben said.

“Hmm. Not even if I ask really, really nicely?” Nicholas asked as he helped Ben into his coat.

“It’s a matter of integrity,” Ben replied, shrugging on the garment.

Nicholas hummed in response as he pulled on his dark brown uniform jacket, and Ben felt the strange urge to reach forward and adjust its collar even though it was already straight.

“So, Boston this weekend? Definitely?” Nicholas asked, and he gave Ben a tentative smile.

Ben’s own smile was sincere and apparently all the reassurance Nicholas needed to know that nothing had changed in the sober light of day.

“Yeah, definitely. You don’t have any sheriff-y stuff to do, though?”

“Not that I’m aware of, but I’ll check my sheriff-y schedule,” Nicholas replied with a boyish grin as he led them outside and locked the front door. “But even in the case that I do, I’ll move it around.”

“Gee, thanks,” Ben laughed as they crossed the street.

“Ben, it’s the very least I can do.”

Ben tilted his chin toward the Sheriff’s Department when they approached the front of the building. “See you later, Sheriff.”

Nicholas climbed the first two steps before he stopped and spun around. “Ah, hell. You know what day it is?”

“Um. Wednesday,” Ben offered as if the answer was obvious.

“Halloween, Wiseass.”

“Fuck, it is, isn’t it?” In the rush of the nightmare that had befallen Point Pleasant since Ben’s return, the holiday had fallen off Ben’s radar. “They’ll revoke my license as a horror writer.”

“I completely forgot,” Nicholas said, and he let out a heavy sigh. “I’ll probably be out late. Really late.”

From the annoyance written across the sheriff’s features, Ben supposed being in charge of law and order on a night that most people took as a free pass to be jackasses had probably rubbed the shine off the holiday.

“Ah ha,” he said. “So I guess this is goodbye until tomorrow.”

“In that case,” Nicholas said as he strode down the steps and took Ben’s face in his hands. He kissed Ben in a thorough, firm clash of lips and tongues.

“Wow,” Ben uttered when he finally leaned away.

“Get a fucking room,” a jovial voice called from behind them.

Astrid had emerged from the square. Her uniform was neatly pressed, her blonde hair was pulled into a meticulous bun, and she had a paper Duvall’s coffee cup in her right hand.

Nicholas seemed unperturbed. “Good morning, Thomas,” he greeted as the deputy skipped up the first few steps to the station.

“Morning, boss. Morning, Ben.” She paused and gave Ben an appraising once-over. “I was going to ask if you were doing okay after the other night,” she said, and her voice was soft with concern. “But I see you’re doing just fine.”

“Astrid,” Nicholas said with an edge of warning in his tone.

Astrid shot the sheriff a coy smile, winked to Ben, and disappeared through the front entrance of the Sheriff’s Department.

“Stay out of trouble tonight, Wisehart. I don’t want to have to lock you up again,” Nicholas said, giving a wink of his own as he headed up the steps.

“Actually, I think you’d love that,” Ben replied. He did not miss the poignant smirk on the lips that had just kissed him so soundly. “Maybe I’ll take Katie trick-or-treating,” he added with a note of whimsy.

“You do that,” Nicholas said. “I’ll call you later.”

Ben headed across the square. A grin had plastered itself to his face like the stucco on the ceiling of his father’s living room. He slid into the Malibu and drove to Cardinal. He was whistling ‘Blue Sky’ to himself even as he entered the house.

Ben used the morning to draft a proper outline. When he felt accomplished, he headed to Grantham’s Funeral Home where he exchanged Andrew’s uniform for two copies of paper that solidified his father’s death with signatures from all the necessary officials. The presence of N. Nolan’s scrawled name on one of the lines was disconcerting.

Before lunch, Ben realized the house was bereft of food and the coffee supply was dwindling. He rectified this with a venture to Chapman’s where Janice greeted him with frosty indifference at the checkout. Ben tried a polite smile on his way out of the store, and she returned it after a moment’s hesitation.

He spent the rest of the day tidying the house to Andrew’s standards and flitting between emails and his Word document.

It was nearly six o’clock when Ben pulled on his coat and left the house. The sun was starting to set, and lit jack-o’-lanterns flickered on front porches and sidewalks. Princesses, butterflies, ghosts, and vampires roamed Cardinal Lane in small packs with their candy receptacles at the ready. Ben went out to the street where he had parked the Malibu. He raised an eyebrow when a mother with two small boys dressed as cowboys diverted their path and crossed the road as if to avoid him.

Ben sank into the car and let out a heavy sigh. The quiet of the interior was unnerving, and he regarded the radio with suspicion.
Don’t be such a baby, Benji
, he told himself and adjusted the dial.

Wolfman Mike’s familiar howling assuaged Ben’s wariness. The opening chords of Sam the Sham and the Pharaohs’ ‘Li’l Red Riding Hood’ chimed from the speakers. Ben huffed a weak laugh, cranked the volume, and drove out of town.