Need Me (Broke and Beautiful #2)(42)

“I don’t know about this,” she whispered, one hand on the screen door handle. “This isn’t something I do. My family has long memories. They still bring up that time I dropped Baby Jesus at my fourth-grade Christmas pageant. Ten years from now, they’ll say, ‘Remember that man you brought home, Honey? Whatever happened to him?’ I don’t know if I can . . . subject myself to a lifetime of you being dropped into conversations.”

Fuck. Her words socked him in the gut. She was already writing him out of the picture. He’d definitely done a number on her—maybe more than he’d originally thought. Even if he got her back to New York by his side, it wouldn’t be over. He’d be making up for the hurt for a long time. He hoped he got the chance. They’d have a lot of time to talk, though. He’d make sure they did. Right now, he just needed her here with him. On the same side. Smiling. “Hey. Think of all the stories you could make up if I turn out to be an *. He joined a commune. He got eaten by a shark. That’s years of entertainment.”

The porch light illuminated her smile. “He runs a support group for ex–Elvis impersonators.”

“Your mind is wasted on science.”

Her laugh was interrupted when the front door flew open. A woman, Honey’s mother if her eyes were any indication, paused in the act of drying a dish. “Well. What’s this now?”

Honey held the screen door open with one hand. “Well, now, Mama. This is Ben. He’s . . .” She stood up straighter. And proceeded to talk in what sounded like a new, undiscovered language. “The thing is, he’s kind of my boyfriend and we’re having a fight right now but he stuck his butt on a plane to come down and see me anyway. It was foolish and impulsive but here he is and I suspect he’s probably hungry so can you make him a sandwich? Not one of your good ones, because like I said, we’re fighting. But we can’t just let him starve is all.”

An older man in a trucker hat appeared at the door. “Who’s that?”

“Her boyfriend,” Honey’s mother said without skipping a beat. “They’re fighting, but it’s not bad enough to let him starve on the porch.”

Honey threw up her hands. “Can we come in?”

“Depends on what the fight was about,” Honey’s father drawled. “The devil is in the details, ain’t it.”

Don’t bring up baseball. Don’t bring up baseball. Ben could practically feel Honey wilting beside him. It was make or break time. Man up, Dawson. “Nice to meet you both. I’m Ben. Dawson. Ben Dawson. It’s my fault we’re fighting, sir. I brought another woman to our supergroup merger because I wanted Honey to realize I wasn’t worth her time. But when she did actually realize it, I found out what it feels like to be without her.” He chanced a look at Honey, but she only looked baffled. “It’s awful. Without her. So I’m here to become worth her time again.”

Honey’s mother sank against the door frame.

“You talk like a Kennedy.” Honey’s father ran a hand over his beard. “You a Democrat?”

“Okay and we’re moving on.” Honey grabbed Ben’s hand and pulled him past her parents into the house. “Enough soul baring for the night. I’m putting him in Teddy’s room, since he’s sleeping on the couch.”

Her father cocked an eyebrow. “That’s right next to your room.”

“My behavior will be above reproach, Mr. Perribow,” Ben assured him with a firm nod.

Honey’s parents exchanged a look. “Who talks like that?”

“An English professor,” Honey muttered behind his back, low enough to reach his ears only. “Come on, Ben. Tomorrow will be soon enough to bring new meaning to the word awkward.” She took his hand again and tugged him toward the stairs. “I’ll be back down in five minutes. Feel free to set the oven timer, Mama, since I know that’s what you’re fixing to do.”

“What about his sandwich?” Honey’s mother complained. “You said I could make him one.”

“I’m fine, Mrs. Perribow. I ate on the plane.”

He was f*cking starving, actually, but the need to be alone with Honey outweighed his hunger. He’d meant what he said to her father, too. Mostly. He would respect the man whose roof he was under and keep his pants zipped within those four walls. Didn’t mean he would pass up a chance to remind her what was between them. Early and often. He’d maximize every moment she’d let him have.

Knowing her parents were watching him as they ascended the stairs, he kept his eyes down, when he really wanted to get a good look at Honey’s ass in that jean skirt. It felt like a year had passed since he’d had his hands on her, and the memory of her soft skin was wreaking havoc on his deprived senses. They turned right at the top of the staircase, and she led him into a tiny room, flipping on the light to reveal Bob Marley posters decorating the walls and a stuffed iguana mounted to the headboard.

“Don’t ask,” she said. “Teddy’s a little eccentric.”

“Okay.” Ben propped his suitcase just inside the door and let himself finally get a decent look at her. Since he’d arrived, she’d had another man’s arm around her, they’d been in the darkness of the truck, and meeting the parents wasn’t exactly prime time for appreciating the new tan she was sporting. He started at the tip of her cowboy boots and let his gaze rake up her legs, her hips . . . God, those tits. Whoever had informed her she didn’t need a bra was his first and last favorite person in the world. Didn’t seem fair that other men got to enjoy the outline of her pointed nipples, but if she covered them up, angels would weep enough to flood the earth twice.