Chapter 34
Benicio and Rose laughed as he escorted her up the steps to the double doors of the mansion she currently lived in alone—his former home—the place where they’d raised their brood of seven children.
“Would you like to come in for a bit?” Rose asked.
The question took Benicio by surprise.
Almost a year had passed since he invited himself on her vacation to the Greek Isles with their mutual friends. His friend Oscar accused him of cock blocking. Not that he cared. He couldn’t knowingly let his Rosa link up with another man and do nothing.
Since then, he sensed a change in his ex-wife. They already had a good relationship, but Rose had become friendlier and different in other ways—though he couldn’t quite articulate how. More relaxed, maybe? He just knew her well enough to know she wasn’t the same after the trip.
Perhaps it was in the way her gaze lingered on him or the way she made eye contact. Nothing overt but definitely a change. Yet every time he tried to push past their platonic touches and friendly gestures, she withdrew.
Now she was inviting him inside. It was late and dark, and he should hit the road. But he was weak for her and welcomed any opportunity for them to spend time together.
“Sure,” Benicio answered.
She led the way inside the quiet house.
“Why don’t you go in the den? I’ll fix us something to drink,” Rose said over her shoulder.
Silently, Benicio watched her disappear in the direction of the kitchen in a floor length mulberry-colored sheath dress with a matching shawl attached. The light fabric draped across her shoulders and added a sophisticated look to her slender frame. Of course, Rose could wear anything and look amazing.
Sighing, he trudged toward the den and tugged off his tie and folded his jacket over the arm of the sofa.
Dropping onto the soft cushion, his shoulders slumped, his heart heavy. It would be nice if he could stay the night and not have to worry about driving back to his condo in the city.
Rose entered carrying two glasses of red wine and croissants on a small tray.
Benicio sat up. “What is all this?”
“Midnight snack,” she answered.
“As if we didn’t eat enough at the wedding,” he teased.
“I know, but this is that delicious dessert wine Bruno brought back from his trip to Argentina.”
“I can’t believe you have any left.”
“He gave me two bottles, and I’ve slowly been working my way through them. They’re especially good with these chocolate croissants Rodolfo made,” she said, referring to the household chef. “I’ve been eating them all week by myself.”
“And you want me to join you in your bad behavior.”
Rose placed the tray on the table in front of them. “If you don’t mind,” she said with a smile that could move mountains and end wars.
“I’ll join you, but I won’t like it.” Mouth already watering for the flaky bread, Benicio reached for the glass and one of the croissants.
“I asked Monica how the trial was going, and she said Andre was optimistic,” Rose said.
Andre hadn’t come to the wedding because he was in New York attending his mother’s new trial.
“Good. Poor woman. They should have a verdict soon, yes?”
Rose nodded, breaking apart her croissant. “When—not if—she’s freed, Monica said she plans to move to Atlanta right away. She’s going to live with her brother.”
“I hope and pray everything goes well.”
“So do I. Andre and his mother have been apart for far too long.” Rose ate a piece of croissant. “The wedding was absolutely lovely, wasn’t it? Skye was such a beautiful bride.”
Benicio nodded his agreement. “She was. I’m glad she’s officially part of the family now. Thank goodness Ethan had the good sense not to lose her.”
“Agreed,” Rose said, a sad little smile touching her lips.
Mierda. He’d said the wrong thing because he was the fool who hadn’t had enough sense not to lose his wife.
He made a big show of examining the croissant. “I had forgotten how delicious these things are,” he said, to break the tension in the air.
“Rodolfo got the recipe from that place we went to in France. Do you remember, where we stayed in the Loire Valley? It was ages ago, but the location was heaven.” She sighed.
He noted the nostalgic smile on her face, and his heart became heavy again. “That was a nice trip. We should go back.”
Rose laughed. “We should.” She took a sip of wine.
Her tone and dismissive laugh made it plain that she didn’t take him seriously.
“I’m not kidding. We should go back.”
She pursed her lips, her expression indulgently amused. “The two of us?”
“Yes.”
“Ben.”
“I’m not just saying that.” Benicio placed his glass and croissant on the tray. He made direct eye contact with her, and the smile disappeared from her face.
“Oh.” She looked genuinely shocked.
“Do you want to?” Benicio held his breath.
“No, I…” She shrugged.
“You obviously want to.”
“I didn’t say that to guilt you into anything, Ben.”
“I don’t feel guilty. I want to take you back there.”
“A year hasn’t passed since we visited Greece, and you want to take another vacation?” She sounded skeptical.
“Why not?”
She studied him in the ensuing silence, a frown line creasing her brow. Slowly, she placed her food on the tray and dusted crumbs from her hands. “We’re not a couple.”
“We don’t have to be a couple to take a trip together. We’re friends, we get along, and friends can take trips together.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Rose said quietly.
“Why not?”
“You know why not.”
“No, tell me. Tell me why we can’t go on a trip to a place we both enjoyed and had a wonderful time. Because we’re not married? We don’t have to be married.”
“It would muddy the waters, and you know that.”
“The waters are already muddied,” Benicio said in a harsh tone.
Frustration coursed through him, and he sprang to his feet, running his fingers through his hair.
“What am I doing here in the middle of the night drinking wine and eating chocolate croissants and talking about the past? Why? To torture myself? No, because I miss you, and I hate being apart from you, and I grab at every moment you allow me to spend in your presence.” He muttered a Spanish curse.
“I told you what I wanted,” Rose said quietly behind him.
Eyes trained on the fireplace, his jaw tightened. “Yes, you did. It’s my fault, I know,” he said in a heavy voice. He turned to face her. “But if you don’t want me, why do this to me? Why invite me to stay in the middle of the night?”
“I wanted some company,” she said quietly.
“That is the difference between you and me, mi amor. I don’t only want company. I am a rich man, and I can find company anytime, anywhere, but that’s not what I want. That’s not what I need. I don’t want company. I want you.”
Resignation and defeat filled his voice.
Rose didn’t respond. She kept her head bent, staring at her fingers folded together on her lap.
Time for him to accept that his relationship with his ex-wife was truly and completely over. He needed to stop torturing himself. He hovered around, hoping they could get back together again, optimistic because they had such an amicable relationship.
She, on the other hand, simply wanted someone to spend time with. She didn’t like being alone in this big house by herself.
“Thank you for the wine and the croissant, but the hour is late, and I have a long drive home.”
He picked up his jacket and took two steps but stopped. Did she say something?
Benicio turned to face Rose. “What did you say?”
“Don’t go.” She spoke in a soft voice.
“I don’t understand,” Benicio said in a thick voice.
Rose came to her feet. She took a deep breath, as if the next words pulled a lot out of her. “Stay the night.”
Benicio swallowed, his heart charging into a gallop. “You want me to… to stay in one of the guest rooms?”
“No,” Rose said, shaking her head and speaking in the same quiet voice. She moved closer, gazing up into his eyes. “I want you to stay the night in my room.”
“Rosa…” Was he dreaming?
She took his hand. “I don’t only want company, either. I want you. I miss you. I don’t know… something about the wedding and seeing Skye and Ethan so happy. They reminded me of us and how we were on our wedding day. Excited about the future and spending the rest of our lives together. I’ve been trying to work up the courage to ask you to stay, while at the same time thinking I’m crazy.”
“You’re not crazy,” Benicio said quickly.
She let out a little laugh, and then tears sprang to her eyes. “I miss you so much, and I… I don’t want to make any promises.”
“I know. I know, mi amor.”
“But I would love for you to stay the night with me.”
He tossed his jacket on the sofa and pulled her into his arms. Their lips touched, and they both let out a low moan. Her mouth was as soft and sweet as he remembered. His arms closed around her slim body, fingers tightening in the soft material of her dress.
Benicio deepened the kiss, ravaging her mouth as desire surged through his veins. Her arms slipped around his neck, and she kissed the corner of his mouth and jaw, fingers threading through the white hairs on his head.
Squeezing her tight, his body trembled from the electricity of her touch. Benicio buried his face in the side of her neck. She smelled like vanilla and honey.
He didn’t know how long they stood wrapped together—his arms tight around her waist, her palms gently caressing the back of his head.
“Ben?”
“Sí.” He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to breathe and then discover this part of the night was some cruel joke—a mirage in the desert his life had become.
“Are you ready to go upstairs?” She kissed his earlobe.
Benicio lifted his head.
She gazed up at him and gave him another one of those sweet, heartrending smiles. The air became lighter, and he breathed easier.
“Sí.”
Rose took his hand and led the way out of the den.