Benjamin by Emma Lang Page A

rough to her own ears as she grappled with a big man who was determined to hurt himself.
    He managed to buck her off for a moment, but before he could get to his feet, she rolled and straddled his stomach and wrapped her arms around him.
    “Let me go,” he whispered. “Just let me go.”
    Tears sprang to her eyes at the pain in his voice. “Never. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, Benjamin Graham.”
    A sob broke from his throat and she held on tighter. This was a man with so much eating him from the inside out. Demons that rode his back every second of every day. She knew she couldn’t wipe away what he’d endured, but she could show him that life was worth living.
    “You know when Henry was first born, I was terrified. He was so tiny and I knew nothing about babies. I wasn’t the motherly type.” She closed her eyes and remembered the feel of that tiny body in her arms. “I managed to figure him out and that’s when I realized there was nothing more important than love. You see, I didn’t have the family you did, and my husband wasn’t in love with me. We were more friends than husband and wife. He and I didn’t have relations very much. Henry was a miracle baby. He is everything to me. He is my family.”
    Ben had quieted beneath her, listening.
    “When those bastards took him, I knew I couldn’t live until I found him again. No matter if he’s—” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “If he’s dead, I’ve lost everything. I don’t have seven brothers and sisters. I only have him. And without you, I can’t find him. Please, Benjy, please help me.”
    Her heart pounded so hard, her ears hurt, but she held on, her arms aching from wrestling with Ben. He sighed, the warm breath gusting past her ears.
    “I’m sorry, Gracie.”
    The nickname was a first for her and it warmed her heart. Calling him Benjy had been a natural thing and it had been the right thing to do. Right now, he was Benjy, her friend and partner.
    “Are you with me?”
    There was a few moments pause before he answered. “Yes.”
    She sat up and looked down at his face. Whiskers covered his jaw and his ridiculously long eyelashes and blue-green eyes were wet. It was what she saw in his eyes that gave her confidence he was telling the truth.
    “Promise me you’re done punching trees and I’ll let you up.”
    His mouth twitched. “You know I could flip you over in a second.”
    He was at least twice her size and had muscles honed from hard work. Somehow she’d managed to keep him on the ground but she doubted she could keep him there for more than a minute or two.
    “That doesn’t mean I’ll let you.” She found a shaky smile. “Now let me tend to your knuckles and we can eat.”
    “Fine. You’ve got to get off me first.” His gaze slid down to where her legs were spread, pressing the center of her womanhood against him.
    A shiver of awareness slid down her spine. The heat between them flared and her racing heart took a turn. She bent down and pressed her lips to his for one, two, three beats before she straightened up and jumped to her feet.
    Now wasn’t the time to act on what she wanted. Now was the time to dust themselves off and move forward.
    *
    Ben shook inside so hard, he was surprised Grace couldn’t feel it. She held his hands and cleaned his ravaged knuckles. He’d lost control again. This time the end result was he had hurt himself instead of someone else. He almost lost control in the store in that town, but he hadn’t. Instead he turned the fury inward.
    Grace had saved him.
    She worked with precision but caused him very little pain. His knuckles had healed from the beating he’d given Manfred Cunningham but now they would have scars on top of scars. She used one of the half-eaten shirts to make bandages for him.
    “No going back now. I have no more Duffy clothes left.” She gave him a small smile. “Your plan worked to get me back in female fripperies.”
    He shook his head. “Grace was always