Deep (Stage Dive, #4)(62)
“You and Jim talk about girls’ clothes?”
He gave me a dour look. “Jim was just giving me some hints, what with Lena being further along than you and everything.”
“The clothes aren’t an issue. I can make do for a little while longer.”
“You don’t need to ‘make do for a little while longer.’ I want you comfortable.”
“Weren’t we going to have sex?” I asked, crossing my arms over my bountiful boobs and checking out the room. For some reason I just didn’t feel like looking at him right then.
“Have you touched that money I put in your account?”
“Not yet. I haven’t needed to.”
“Clearly you need to.” He crossed his arms too. No fair—his were so much bigger than mine. The fact that they were muscular and covered in tattoos pleased me just then. To be fair, Ben didn’t seem so happy himself. “What’s going on here, Liz?”
“Nothing. Which is the problem. I thought we were fooling around.”
He just looked at me.
“What?” I asked.
A long-suffering sigh. Then his fingers dealt with the band on my pants in less than two seconds, the denim pooling at my feet.
“Up,” he ordered, lifting me off the ground.
At last, sex. I wrapped my legs and arms around him, refinding my happy. “Were you really thinking about me all day?”
“Yeah, I was. And you’re sure as shit on my mind now.” Lines covered his high forehead. “So tell me, what’s this bullshit about you not touching that money? It’s yours for buying what you need, and clearly you need stuff.”
“It’s for Bean.”
“It’s for both of you.”
“I don’t like taking your money.”
A grunt of disapproval. “You didn’t take it, I gave it to you.”
“It feels the same.”
“Fine. Okay.” His hands cupped my ass, fingers massaging. “I don’t want you feeling weird about this. And relationships are about compromise, right?”
“Ri-i-ght.” Suspicion was my middle name.
“Tomorrow we go shopping and put all the shit you need on my card.”
“That’s not compromise!”
“You don’t like touching that money I put in your account, so don’t. In fact, you don’t have to touch any of my money at all. I’ll deal with it.”
“Ben.”
“Liz. Fact is, you’re probably never going to have the kind of money I’ve got. Since the band started earning, pretty much all I’ve done is invest it. I’m not like Jim with the flashy suits or Mal with the massive beach house and parties. I don’t need much, live pretty simply. Drive the same old truck. I’ve got one expense, but it’s under control.” Dark eyes drew me in. “You’ve made your point. There’s nothing in me thinking you’re into me for the money, okay? Now, I’m not having this discussion with you every time you need something. You and Bean are mine, and I look after what’s mine.”
I took a deep breath.
“We good?” he asked.
“I’ll try.”
“Do more than try. Rely on me. It’s what I’m here for.”
“That was a really sweet thing to say.” My eyes misted up. Crazy-ass hormones. “I guess because I didn’t grow up with much it just … it feels weird even having it there but not having worked for it. Like I stole it or something.”
“Sweetheart, you didn’t steal the money. You stole me. The money comes with me. Okay?”
“Okay.” A tear trickled down my cheek. “I really like you, Ben. So damn much.”
“Christ, what are you crying for? Come here, give me that mouth.”
I did as told. After that, there was more coming than crying that day.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ben was gone again when I woke up the next morning, in New York. Due to the three scheduled concerts, we’d be in the city for nearly a week. The thing about being on tour was the endless possibilities for late mornings. I’d be part sloth by the time we got home. There’d been a band dinner the night before, despite Jimmy’s complaint about everyone living on top of each other. I think his eternal bad mood secretly hid one hell of a soft inside. And yes, that was my professional opinion. I’d caught him stroking his chin while giving Lena a thoughtful look, more than once. Wouldn’t surprise me if we had another beard on board in the near future.
With my sloth side in mind, I met Anne at the gym and we took up residence on a pair of exercise bikes for half an hour. The last gyno I saw a few days back had said light exercise was fine and dandy. Despite the occasional fetish for some weird food, and Lena’s pastry party yesterday, I hadn’t been indulging too much. Lots of salad and vegetables and the occasional trip to the dark side of decadent desserts. Total denial didn’t suit me. At the end of the day, a healthy Bean and happy me was more important than the size of my butt.
The menfolk had gone off for a sound check, followed by various TV appearances before they hit the stage. Maternity shopping could fall by the wayside for a while, no biggie. A reporter from some big-name music magazine had taken to tagging along with the band, adding to the busy. Apparently an in-depth Stage Dive on Tour: The Real Story Behind the Public Facade article was in the making. Ben had seemed singularly unimpressed with the whole thing. But then, little moved him. He tended to take the bulk of things in his stride.