Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ISABELLE
My body was sore, but in the best way. A tightness in my thighs, a warmth between my legs, and a sharp throb in the teeth marks on my neck.
I felt amazing, lying around and avoiding taking a shower or generally getting moving. Was it wrong that I didn’t want to wash them off my body yet?
The smile I wore was genuine. Seb had been slowly dismantling my walls ever since I arrived, and now they were gone. Seb and Ben together had decimated them. I was seen, cared for, and based on last night – adored.
Ben had held me while Seb peppered me with kisses, then tucked me in, insisting they give me peace and quiet and I had been out like a light the moment they left me.
I was happy, something I wouldn’t have dared dream after the showdown yesterday, and I wouldn’t even allow the creeping reminder of my uncertain future to ruin this for me. Not today. One single day.
I drew the duvet up over the grin that had taken up residence on my face when I heard the floorboards in the hallway creak. The only ones that did were directly outside Ben’s bedroom. So, either Ben or Seb was moving around.
I giggled at the quick knock on my door before it opened. It would be Seb – he only asked permission when his intentions related to my body; otherwise, he just did what he wanted.
“Rise and shine, Killer!” Seb was sleep-ruffled and gorgeous, still tugging on the slashed tank he wore around the house. I caught sight of the last few of his abs until my view was limited to his sides and obliques, very rude.
“Can’t, I’m tired,” I murmured, face still half hidden by the covers. Seb could see the smile in my eyes, and his widened in reply.
“Killer,” he chided. “We’ve been without you for…” He checked his watch. “Seven whole hours.”
“But I can’t cope on only seven hours’ sleep!” I protested playfully.
“Nope. Up.” The covers were ripped from my grasp. “Unless you are going to relocate to Ben’s room so we have access to you every hour of the day, you’ll get up now.”
I hesitated at the thought. Was there even space for me in with the boys?
“Oh, she’s blushing!” He sat on the mattress, his arm bracketed over my hips. “You like the thought of a sleepover, huh? We can make room.”
I gulped, nodding. I did.
“Now are we getting up or are we being picked up?” he asked.
“Huh?” My mind was still in Ben’s bed.
“Carried.” Seb’s arms swept around my body, lifting me and folding me over his shoulder.
“Seb!” I squealed. “Put me down! I’m still in my pyjamas, fucking hell, you can’t carry me!”
His only reply was a sharp slap to my ass while he stole me from the room, down the stairs and deposited me on a sofa.
The TV was on, the sound muted. The news running on the large flatscreen.
A thick cover was laid over my lap, Seb rolling his eyes at the TV and my puzzled expression.
He disappeared, clinking echoing from the kitchen while I watched the new day’s reports flick up, the reporter’s mouth moving silently.
As expected, my face popped up before long. I didn’t need to be a lip reader to know what she was saying, an almost play-by-play version of the night before. Today they displayed only an image of my family, then one of Teddy followed.
I was grateful not to have to bear witness to his false angst again – that would definitely shoot my good mood straight to hell.
A tray was placed on my lap, a coffee onto the side table, then Seb landed onto the sofa with a soft thunk.
“It’s an Alex special.” Seb snagged some of the toast and tore off a bite. I watched his jaw flex as he ate; his pleasure at my constant objectification of him was evident.
I watched his throat bob as he swallowed.
“I keep turning it off, then he puts it back on. He said it was to keep ‘abreast of the situation’.” Seb’s tone was mocking as he snatched up the remote and turned off the offending channel. “He’s trying to protect Ben.”
“From me?” I asked, hurt for Ben. I couldn’t imagine seeing the screen over and over all day. My optimism for the longevity of my good mood was fading fast.
“From the whole world, I suspect. But even Alex can concede you mean no harm. He just thinks that the fall-out could have lasting ramifications.” Seb took my chin in his hand and lifted my face to him. “Ben has already discussed this with him. He’s fine. I promise you.”
I tried to nod, but he still held my jaw captive.
“Okay?” He watched me intently.
“Yes.” The word was quiet, but true.
He leaned towards me, laying a sweet kiss on my lips, which I kept sealed. Toast and morning breath. I was absolutely not kissing Seb properly.
“Finish your coffee and let’s get you dressed. Ben’s waiting for you outside.” He removed the tray from my lap.
“He is?” I didn’t hide my surprise. “Why?”
“I don’t know. Ben just said he wanted to spend time with you today. And I am useless in the workshop. The best I can offer is holding the tools and being pretty.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“And here I thought baking, decorating and cricket were your only shortcomings?” I rose, folding the blanket, thinning my lips to hide the smile.
“So petulant!” Seb laid another slap on my ass, and I jumped at the sting and took off up the stairs.
I twirled my ponytail between my fingers, a rarity but a clear tell of my nerves. Nerves that were now annoying me.
I’d been with Ben, in the cellar, in the house, in my bloody bedroom. He’d seen all of me. Touched all of me. And I was nervous to see him, to be with him in his workshop.
I was being ridiculous.
“Ben?” I called out as I pushed the door open. The whirring of machinery somewhere in the back of the barn was loud. “It’s me?”
Who else would it be, genius? I grimaced.
“Ben?” I called louder, wandering in the direction of the noise. I rounded a large digger to find the source.
Ben was wearing a large pair of ear defenders and running a handheld machine over the surface of the digger, based on the cloud of dust and the mask he wore, a sander.
I waved, strolling closer and feeling absolutely ridiculous, but Ben saw me, killing the machine and ripping off the mask, offering a smile so magnetic it eliminated any and all awkwardnesses.
“Hey, Sugar.” He closed the distance, cupping my neck, the warmth of his skin bleeding into mine. He searched my eyes, then placed a gentle kiss on my lips. These men were being so sweet today.
“Hi,” I muttered against his mouth.
When neither of us immediately withdrew, the electricity between us began to build, bringing with it all the surging sensations of desire, starting where his fingers touched my neck and shooting outwards.
I blinked, pushing that down for later, I hoped. “You wanted me?”
“Did I ever?” he whispered, then stepped back. My lips tingled with the imprint of his. “Do you fancy helping me out today?”
His face was so open, so hopeful.
I slipped my fingers through the tendrils of hair that fell over his forehead, surging with joy at how comfortable he’d become. I pushed the soft strands back and marvelled again at their softness.
“I want nothing more,” I responded honestly. His answering smile almost broke my heart. “I have to tell you, though, I’m deeply inexperienced in metalwork and machinery.”
He caught my hand as I dropped it away from his hair, tugging back the way I’d come. “I’m sure you’d be a quick study, but today I’m working on windows.”
I was placed between two smaller work surfaces while Ben removed a large wooden frame from a vice.
“That sound okay?” he asked, placing the frame in front of me.
“What can I do?” I had no more experience with windows than diggers.
“Well, I have a few frames to finish, but then I have to load up all the glass for Alex to take to the house.” He tapped the frame in front of me. “Could you help me stain and seal them?”
Staining, painting. I could do that, so I smiled. “Absolutely.”
The morning flew by. I tried to be diligent, even though it wasn’t paint, so I was less likely to leave streaks and ruin Ben’s windows. I had no doubt about his exacting standards, and although I was sure he wouldn’t have the same expectations of me, I desperately didn’t want to do a bad job.
If I thought I had woken up happy, that was nothing on how I felt now.
Ben chatted freely with me, and there was no pressure to talk about my life, where I was from, or what my future entailed. Nor he and his. We talked about music, our hobbies, and our loves.
For those hours, the world outside didn’t exist. With the exception of Seb, who called into the workshop. Regularly.
If I were a betting woman, I’d have guessed he wanted to spend the day with us, but that Ben wouldn’t have let him put a single finger on anything we were working on.
The thought had me feeling special, as though he trusted me.
It also had me chuckling.
Seb would probably be feeling a little sore that we were spending the day out here together.
Ben must have known that too, because every time Seb found an excuse to ‘pop in’ he stopped what we were doing and we gave him our undivided attention.
Ben had even started giving me a little conspiratorial smile each time we heard the telltale signs of him coming to check on us.
“I can’t believe I didn’t think about getting you some gloves. Is your jumper covered too?” Ben examined the deep staining on my fingers and palm as soon as the back door of the cottage was closed and the icy winds were sealed outside.
“If I learned to put the paint on the frame instead of anywhere else, then there wouldn’t be an issue,” I laughed. “It’ll come off, plus the jumper is black, so anyone close enough to see the stains is either far too close or is one of you or Seb.”
He blushed lightly at that. “I hope so.” My hand was still encased in his, but he was no longer examining it. He was steadily searching my eyes. “Now that the windows are done, Alex can go to the manor.”
“Yeah?” If I hadn’t been so excited at the thought of Alex being out of the house, I would have been a little embarrassed by how thrilled I sounded.
“Yep, with the incoming gales the windows need fixing…” He sounded as pleased as I did. “He’ll be gone for days.”
Did Ben just wiggle his eyebrows at me? I beamed at him.
Ben tucked our shoes away and herded me into the lounge, where the fire crackled and the TV still rolled in the background.
The line for breaking news didn’t have anything relating to me, for which I was grateful.
Instead, the screen was filled with an image of a tank on a battlefield with the letters NSCTA stamped over it. The rolling updates read:
‘The National Service Care Transition Act – is the government abandoning its duty of care to the children in the system?’
Alex and Seb sat whispering urgently, their mood nowhere near as high-spirited as ours.
Alex looked livid, an expression that I now knew covered a multitude of actual emotions.
Seb, however, looked concerned. Deeply, deeply concerned.
Alex rushed to turn off the TV, startled to see us there. He frowned at Ben, who remained staring at the screen even after it had turned black.
“Benji,” Seb started. “We need to have a little chat.”
“Right.” Ben folded himself into a seat, pulling me down with him and entwining our hands. The constant contact from him was a brief distraction from the tension radiating from the others, that now emanated from him too.
“There’s been an announcement, and we realise it is something that might sit uncomfortably with you, and we would rather discuss it together than risk you finding out another way.” Alex paused before clapping Seb supportively on the back. “We’re here with you to work through this together. Okay?”
Ben waited.
“Even though Alex reached out to family, those associated and so on, there’s been very little anyone could do to stall or influence the direction of this,” Seb continued, but I had no idea what he was talking about.
“Just tell me.” Ben’s fingers flexed against mine, tightening.
“There have been some changes announced to the care system, Benji. And we think you will find them uncomfortable. Plenty of people are saying exactly what we are. We need you to know this isn’t a reflection of how people feel. Okay?” Seb was beating around the bush on this one.
I watched Ben, waiting to see how he might react to Seb’s words, but he didn’t react at all.
“It’s called the National Service Care Transition Act,” Alex interjected tentatively. “It’s a plan for people in the system to move primarily into military service when they are past the care system age limit.”
“They’re forcing those in care straight into the armed forces?” Ben’s voice was cool.
“Unless they have an alternative, such as apprenticeships or internships, basically any other scheme,” Seb replied, moving to sit on the edge of his seat. I could sense he wanted to come to Ben’s side.
Ben was quiet, his skin paling, his chin dropped so he stared at our hands. All the playfulness of the workshop now leached from him.
“Their legal obligation ends, so they funnel them into forced labour? Filling the ranks with people who have no-one else.” Ben sounded entirely detached, staring through our hands, through the floor.
I tightened my grip on him, but he didn’t react. The fact that he still held me was the only positive I could glean.
“Will people outside the system be subject to the same expectations?” Ben asked.
The silence that greeted him was answer enough.
I felt a tiny tremor in his hand. His breathing had started to become laboured; he drew in a deep lungful of air before blowing it back out and doing it again. It was as if he couldn’t quite get enough oxygen.
Then he simply stopped trying.