Page 32 of I Do With You

People begin to disperse, getting drinks and shoving marshmallows onto skewers—or straight into their mouths, like I see a couple of kids doing.

“Want something?” Ben asks me.

“I’ll take a daiquiri.”

Ben goes to get us drinks, and I look around at the group of people. I’ve grown up hearing chatter about annoying tourists, but everyone seems pretty normal. They’re having a good time watching over the kids, who’re running around the small grassy area and playing on the swing set, and chatting about where they’re from and what their plans are in Maple Creek. There doesn’t seem to be an entitled Karen or overbearing Kevin in the bunch—at least, not yet, but the free alcohol just started flowing.

Ben returns with two plastic cups of pink frozen slush, each topped with a strawberry plopped in the middle. He hands me one and then holds his up for a toast. “To strength of spirit, bravery of heart, and chaotic train wrecks that blow my world apart. Wouldn’t have it any other way.” He grins as he taps his cup to mine and swallows a drink.

I laugh at the odd but sweet compliment and take a sip too. It’s cool and icy, tasting of summer sweetness. “Mmm,” I say, licking my lips. “Yummy.”

“Kaitlyn said they’re pretty weak because they’re free, but they’re good,” he agrees, picking up his strawberry.

Right as he’s about to take a bite, Richard appears, grinning merrily. “Nuh-uh, you heard the lady: you’re supposed to feed each other the strawberry,” he tells Ben with a comical wink.

“Oh, uh ... we’re not—” he tries to argue, but Richard isn’t hearing it.

“A little nibble never hurt—much,” Richard argues back, waggling his brows at his own semi-joke. He gestures for me to hold up my strawberry, and I’m having so much fun watching Ben struggle to find a way out of this that I play along. I fish the fruit out of my drink and hold it up in the air victoriously.

“Wanna bite my berry, Ben?” I tease, waving it back and forth enticingly.

Ben arches his brows as he smirks knowingly. “You have no idea what you’re playing at, Hope. Be careful.”

I’ve always been careful. Never strayed from the safe and narrow path of good choices. Maybe what I want is to not be careful or safe. Maybe I want to make a bad choice, starting with this strawberry and Ben. When the daiquiri drips onto my hand, it feels like a sign that the universe is on my side with that sentiment, so I stick my tongue out to lick the cold, sticky liquid. “Oops,” I murmur. “Too late.”

“Fuuuck,” Ben groans.

Richard laughs at Ben’s predicament and advises him, “Don’t fight it, boy. Women always have the upper hand. The sooner you realize it, the happier you’ll be.” He pats him on the back and steps away, leaving me confused because I most definitely have never had the upper hand in a single interaction I’ve been involved in. And certainly not with Ben, who’s been saving me left, right, and center, mostly from myself.

But while I’m confused, Ben looks furious. No, that’s not fury. It’s just as hot, just as all-consuming, but it’s ... lust.

Staring into Ben’s dark eyes, with the firelight throwing shadows over his face, I feeldesired. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way. Roy wanted to have sex, but it was always because he was horny, not because he wanted me specifically. But Ben does, and he’s not hiding it. In fact, his craving is bold and blatant as he holds his strawberry up, touching its tip to my lip.

“Open.” His voice is low and rough, coming from deep in his throat. Or hell, maybe from his balls, because it’s pure sex in two syllables.

I drop my mouth open and let him feed me the juicy fruit. Rather than a delicate nibble of uncertainty, I take a big chomp out of it, chewing and smacking like it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted. “Delicious.”

“I bet,” he answers, a soft smile tilting up his lips.

“Taste mine,” I say, tempting him with my own strawberry. I move it closer, wait till he opens his mouth, and then jerk it a few inches away. He grins at the tease, so I do it again. But the third time, he grabs my wrist and holds the fruit to his mouth for a second, locking eyes with me before he bites into it.

“You’re right. Delicious.”

“You two are so cute,” Kaitlyn says, interrupting us. And as much as I like her, and as sweet as she is, I kinda hate her for a minute because I was enjoying the flirting with Ben. At the beach, I might not’ve been sure how to do it, but I think I’ve got it figured out now.

Act like everything is a double entendre for sex and it’s basically flirting. I could say,I’m gonna floss your teeth,and it could still be flirting if I think about sex when I say it, likeSlip it in,andSlide it back and forth,in the right, purring Jessica Rabbit tone of voice. I hope I’m doing better than that, though, because plaque buildup isn’t sexy.

Focus, Hope. Think about sex. Think about sex with someone other than Roy. Eeek! Think about sex with ... Ben. Double EEEK!

I have been, that’s for sure. All day, I’ve stared at his hands as they caressed his guitar, watched the way his mouth moved as he talked—no, sang—to himself, and imagined him dirty-talking in my ear. And I’ve definitely pictured what he might look like beneath that God-awfulflamingo suit I made him wear. I might not’ve expected the fabric to be so clingy, but I wasn’t upset that it outlined every inch of Ben’s dick. Nope, definitely not upset a bit about that. Intrigued, is more like it.

I glance at Ben, a bit embarrassed by the filthy thoughts running through my mind, to find him staring at me openly, still burning in his desire for me. The heat in his smile makes me a little afraid he can read my mind.

Kaitlyn bends down so her voice only carries between the three of us. “Guys, you gotta keep it child-friendly, or you’re gonna get me in trouble. Got it?” She looks from Ben to me and back. “Side note, Hope ...” She holds her hand up, and I almost think she’s going to slap me, but then she smiles. “Hell yeah, girl!” I high-five her palm in surprise.

“Here, let me take those if you’re done.” Kaitlyn points at the strawberry tops before we can say anything else. She throws them in the trash bag she’s carrying and then dances off toward another couple, playing hostess with the mostest.

I can’t help but giggle. I’ve never been told to cool it because I’m behaving inappropriately, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.

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