CHAPTER 18 KAYLEE
It’s dark when he turns down a quiet street. We’re stopped in front of a gate that has the number eight on one side and another eight on the other. Eighty-eight. Ben’s number.
He clicks a button, and the gates magically open for us.
For the majority of the drive up here, we’ve listened to country music. My feet have been propped up on the dashboard as I sang along to the songs, my window down and my hair whipping around my face as he took the highway pretty consistently around eighty.
I was shocked when he flipped to a country station, but they’re my jams. The ride passed pretty quickly, and I even caught him singing along to a few older songs that came on.
I narrowed my eyes at him at one point with a clear question as to how he knows the words if he hates country music, but I decided just to enjoy it rather than asking.
There aren’t any streetlights as we drive into the darkness, and apart from the headlights, the only light around is from the moon and the stars that I can see clearly out the windshield.
Buddy whines in the backseat as if he senses a change in the air.
I sense it, too. Despite the serious conversations we’ve had on this road trip, a sense of calming tranquility seems to pass through the vehicle.
It’s just us—Ben, Buddy, and me—for the next couple weeks, and that feels pretty damn exciting.
After a long drive down the quiet road, some lights in the distance comes into view. We navigate toward them and eventually Ben turns onto the driveway.
It’s a dream wood cabin spread out before me. It’s lit up like Christmas, but it’s so dark around us that I can’t tell what the landscape looks like. In my head, it’s gorgeous, and I can’t wait for the daytime view tomorrow.
“We’re here,” he says. He pulls into one of the five garages and puts the car in park. I spot a couple of ATVs parked at the far end of the garage.
Buddy stands in the backseat, his chain rattling as he shakes off the confinement of being cooped up in a vehicle for the entire day except for bathroom breaks at gas stations and food stops.
“Ready, Bud?” Ben says to his dog in the kind of tone that makes my ovaries hot.
That’s dangerous thinking.
But I’ve watched him take care of the dog all day, and while I’ve seen my brothers with their kids and realize how different being a dog parent is from being a child parent, I still see the types of qualities I would want in a man who fathers my children.
Except today’s confessions made it clear that will never happen.
Ben unlocks the door leading from the garage into the house and he holds it open. Buddy scrambles to get in first, and Ben chuckles as he holds the door wider for me to step in after Buddy. He flicks on the light and we’re in a laundry room.
“When was the last time you were here?” I ask.
“I came for a few days in February right after we won the Super Bowl. Haven’t been back since.” He adjusts some knobs on the panel in the wall, and I have no idea what he’s doing but the house seems to come to life.
He leads me through a small hallway and into the beautiful cabin that is some mix of simple and industrial. That’s exactly what I would’ve pictured for Ben’s style, and it makes me realize how the rental back in Vegas is so completely not him.
The entire place is made up of exposed wooden beams, and it has such a country feel to it that I can practically hear Luke Bryan singing in some corner.
Accents of metal bring an urban feel to the house, combining the two sides of his personality into one urban-country style.
A huge leather sectional sofa points at the biggest television screen I’ve ever seen.
I turn toward the kitchen next, a beautiful room with a huge island that looks like it’s just waiting for Ben to give me my next cooking lesson.
Or waiting for Ben to ravish me on top of it…
As much as I would love a tour right now, somehow sitting in the car for thirteen hours wore me out. It’s a little after midnight here in Montana.
“Where’s Buddy?” I ask.
“Out back. This isn’t his first rodeo here.” He nods toward the doggie door. “He’s too scared to use the one in Vegas but he loves the one here.”
“Do you leave it unlocked?”
He shakes his head. “That panel in the laundry room unlocks it, and Doris was here earlier so she took out the security panel I put in when I lock up.”
“Doris?” I ask.
“My housekeeper.”
“Ah,” I say. It does look awfully clean considering he hasn’t been back here since February.
“I wanted to come back sooner, but life shit and obligations keep me pretty busy. My agent knows that I take off as much of June as I can.”
“And then it’s back to the grind in July?”
“Pretty much. Technically I should probably show up for some of the mini camps. It always looks good to show up and welcome the rookies in.” He shakes his head. “But I’ve been around a long time, and after a while you start to get privileges the younger guys don’t.”
“Plus you have to be back in time to throw your end of summer rager,” I tease.
He chuckles. “My dad suggested a new party themed Shithead Shenanigans. It’s definitely in the running.”
I laugh. “Your dad is hilarious.”
“I agree. Very few people know him well enough to know that, though.”
I tilt my head a little as I study him for a beat.
“What?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing,” I say. “It’s just…I feel like the same could be said for you, but not the part about you being hilarious. Everyone knows that. But I feel like very few people know the real you.”
He glances up and catches my eye. “Sometimes I’m not even sure if I know who that is.”
“I feel like you’re starting to let me get to know him.” I take a step toward him. “And the more I get to know, the harder I fall.” Another step, and we’re only a few feet apart.
He closes the final gap and pulls me into his arms. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to my lips. Heat pools between my thighs.
“The feeling is mutual,” he murmurs.
Buddy powers in through the doggie door, interrupting our intimate moment. He laughs against my mouth and I can’t help my own smile.
“Tour tomorrow?” he asks. “I am fucking beat.”
“Me too,” I admit. “Tour tomorrow sounds perfect.”
He lugs my suitcase up the stairs to the master bedroom and we call it an early night as Buddy settles into a king-sized doggie bed down in the family room.
And I sleep better than I have in months.