Page 7 of Secret Nights and Northern Lights
“Uh…” Completely thrown, I glance down at my ratty tee and pajama pants. “Give me a minute.”
I pull my upper body back inside the window and fasten the latch, then collapse against the nearest wall and study my room as if painted on my walls somewhere I’ll find the answer to why Ben Carter is standing in my yard. But I don’t have time for that becauseBen Carter is standing in my yard!Shit! Shit! Shit!
I pull in a deep breath and summon practical, controlledMona’s return. Ben’s waiting, and he just wants to talk. It’s fine. Completely fine. One hundred percent fine.
Looking around my room again, I see the only shoes available to me are the heels I wore to work, and as much as Ilovethe idea of Ben seeing me in these pajamas, I refuse to further embarrass myself by adding stilettos to this ensemble. A fleeting moment passes where I hastily debate changing back into my entire work outfit, but then that seems like I care a little too much.
Doesn’t it?
Do I?
Screw it. Pajamas and bare feet it is.
I do take a moment to put my bra back on because I’m not a free spirit like that. Then I slowly slide my bedroom door open and tiptoe downstairs, holding my breath as if getting caught sneaking out is still a punishable offense at age thirty-one. Knowing my father, it just might be.
The latch on the front door clicks softly into place behind me, ensuring my stealthy escape has gone unnoticed, and I blow out a relieved exhale.
But then I have a new, much more pressing problem. As of today, I’m thirty-one years old and still afraid of the dark. Well, to be frank,afraiddoesn’t cut it. I’m fuckingpetrified.
I have my reasons. Reasons involving a neighborhood game of hide-and-seek gone horribly wrong the summer before I turned ten. Reasons involving the antique chest in my parents’ bedroom and an ill-conceived idea ofthebest hiding spot ever!Reasons involving getting trapped in that chest for nearly an hour when the outer latch snapped closed after I’d lowered the lid, confining me in the tiny space in a darkness so consuming I’d screameduntil my voice went hoarse and pounded my fist against the cedar until I lost all feeling in my hand.
I still have nightmares about it—my petite body stuck with my legs drawn into my chest and my chin pressed against my knees with barely any room to breathe. The heat of the stale air and the musty smell of the only other occupant—a pile of quilts knitted by my grandmother’s grandmother or someone else of familial significance—that I’d simply shoved to the side in my hurry to hide. (Marcus never counted the full twenty-five Mississippis and everyone knew it!)
No one came for me for the longest time, and I knew—even at nine—I was going to suffocate in that chest. But then, as my screams turned to muffled cries with the loss of my voice, the lid miraculously flipped open, and there was the most beautiful set of apple green eyes staring down at me, my new favorite color.
Ten-year-old Ben held out his hand and helped me climb from the trunk, and as soon as I was safe, I wiped my tears away and made him pinky-promise not to tell anyoneeverabout what happened. I felt so dumb to have made such a dangerous error, and I didn’t want to hand my brothers any ammunition to use to make fun of me. Ben twisted his pinky with mine, and he never told anyone my secret. At least that’s my assumption, though I learned years later that Ben doesn’t always honor his promises.
Because he’s the only person who knows why I’m afraid of the dark, I assumed he’d be waiting for me here at the front door, but he must have forgotten about my phobia. Not entirely surprising since we don’t really know each other anymore.
Cold sweat dampens the back of my neck.
Where is he?
I have limited time before the motion-activated floodlight above shuts off, and my brain screams to go back inside where it’s safe. Maybe if I run to the back of the house, I’ll set off the other floodlights and stay submerged in light.
It’s a risk but…
Sprinting toward the back of the house, I bounce on the balls of my bare feet and keep my eyes glued to the ground to avoid any rocks or sharp objects. My plan proves spot-on as I round the side corner and another light clicks on above me, illuminating the damp grass passing beneath my feet. And it’s precisely because my fear forces me to make such careless haste that I round the back corner of the house without looking up and collide,hard, with Ben’s chest.
Ben’s lean, muscular chest.
Which I know because my fingers now spread across his sternum.
“Shit, Mona, I’m sorry.” His breathless voice is somewhere near my ear, his hands wrapping around my elbows to steady us both. “Are you okay? I thought you’d come out the back door. You always come out the back door.”
Alwaysis a peculiar word choice when we haven’t actually donethisin over a decade.
I lift my head to meet his gaze, but I don’t remove my hand from the soft cotton of his shirt, a small comfort in this stress-fueled situation. I barely refrain from twisting the material between my fingers. “I’m fine.”
I’m not fine.
I’m not fine because already the background blurs as my immediate senses heighten; the same reaction I had to Ben all thoseyears ago. His fresh cottony scent surrounds me like I fell into a basket of newly laundered clothes. The familiar timbre of his voice echoes in my ears, a soothing comfort unlike any other. His warm, calloused fingers make my skin burn beneath his touch. Despite my earlier musings that Ben and I don’t know each other anymore, no one sent that memo to the rest of my body, which reacts to his as if there hasn’t been a single day since we were last together. The urge to rise onto my tiptoes and press my body against his is—
Ben’s hands drop away from me, breaking the spell.
Snapped from my trance, I jerk my hand away from his chest, dropping it to my side and discreetly shaking it out.
“I, uh…I just came to talk.” Ben shoves his hands deep in the pockets of a dark gray utility jacket he wears over the same white henley from earlier today. “You looked rattled when you saw me today. I hope I didn’t upset you.”
