Your Fierce Love (The Bennett Family) Read online

  When Landon, Valentina, and their friend arrive, everyone steps inside.

  “I can’t believe this,” Blake says, appearing at my side. “Can a three-year-old actually appreciate all this?”

  “Well, a three-year-old’s party is as much for the adults as for the kid, I’ll say. And I can appreciate all of this.”

  “You’re a complicated creature.”

  “But I also smell nice. That makes up for it, doesn’t it?”

  He settles his hand at the small of my back, and even though he’s done it before, the gesture feels much more intimate after this morning. “You also taste great, Clara.”

  This man and his dirty mouth should be outlawed. Or at the very least, he should only use unorthodox language when we’re alone. I open my mouth to suggest that but forget my words at the pure heat radiating off him. With a prickle of awareness, I realize he moved his hand from my lower back up to the back of my neck and his thumb is now pressing into my skin, gently and possessively at the same time. For a split second, it feels as if there is no one but the two of us in this room. How can he do that to me? Take over all my senses, my thoughts?

  “And who is the lovely lady here? I don’t remember seeing you before.”

  The voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I focus on its owner. The men in the extended Bennett clan are also the very definition of tall and handsome.

  “Clara Abernathy.” I reach out my hand, which he shakes. “Family friend. And I think we’ve been introduced at Alice’s wedding.”

  “Ah, could be. Sorry, I don’t remember. Weddings seem to be introduction marathons. I’m Landon Connor.” His eyes zero in on Blake’s hand, which is still at the back of my neck, rather possessively. Blake seems taller and larger somehow as he shakes his cousin’s hand. The two men exchange a long glance. It’s almost like a standoff. This is fascinating.

  “See you around, Clara.”

  “I cannot believe all the men in your family are this good-looking,” I tell Blake once Landon is out of earshot because I cannot pass up the opportunity. Blake sets his jaw. Jealous looks good on him. Hot. Still, I’m not heartless, so I elbow him lightly. “Relax. I was just messing with you. God, you’re intense.”

  “You have no idea. Come on. Let’s introduce you to Valentina. No messing with me. Or else.”

  Is it bad that I’m dying to find out what that “or else” entails? Sighing, I lick my lips.

  “Stop licking your lips or I’ll forget we’re supposed to attend this party and lock us both in the bedroom.”

  I inhale sharply, nodding, even though I’m so tempted to keep pushing him. This man has the strangest influence on me.

  Valentina and Landon brought gifts too, and when I glance at the presents pile in one corner of the room, I can’t help giggling. I bought gifts for all of the kids, thinking that if only the birthday boy gets something new, the others will be jealous, or just plain sad. Judging by the size of the pile, I wasn’t the only one thinking along those lines.

  It looks like Christmas has come early.

  Jenna Bennett is next to the pile, sitting on the windowsill. Some of the other kids played with Will’s presents, unwrapping them before he got the chance.

  “I’m going to help your mom wrap up the presents,” I inform Blake.

  “You don’t have to do that. Will is going to rip up the paper anyway.”

  “Exactly. He loves that part,” I exclaim, vividly remembering that, as a kid, unwrapping a present was half of the fun.

  Winking at him, I take off, joining Jenna.

  “I’m here to help.”

  “Bless you. I wasn’t expecting so many gifts. It’s so good to see Landon and Valentina.”

  I sit on the windowsill, following Jenna’s lead. She’s been smiling even more than usual since Landon and Valentina arrived.

  “Their mother is your sister, right?”

  Her smile falters. “Was. She and her husband died years ago.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “Landon and Valentina were freshmen in college. They practically kept their family from falling apart, raised their siblings.”

  I follow her gaze at the other end of the room, looking at the cousins in question with admiration.

  “I didn’t have a chance to ask before, but how is it living with Blake?”

  “He’s a great neighbor. And it was awfully generous of him to help me out.” I press my lips together, afraid that if I continue talking, I’ll give myself away. At any rate, I’m not going to share any spicy details with his mother, but better safe than sorry, so I keep my mouth shut.

  Jenna studies me inquisitively, and I focus on smoothing out the folded paper on one of the presents I’ve just wrapped. I run my thumb over it even after it’s smooth as hell until Jenna looks away. Pippa might be able to smell out evasive maneuvers, but Jenna is really the master at reading people.

  She’s also far more subtle than Pippa, which makes her even more dangerous because she typically makes me spell out my deepest secrets before I even realize it. So, I focus the conversation on Will and the presents. Once we’re done wrapping everything, Jenna pulls me into a half hug, which I return wholeheartedly.

  I always have to keep myself in check so I don’t lean in like a kitten starving for affection. I’ve always been touchy-feely, but more so with Jenna and her motherly hugs. The way I see it, I have some solid years of catching up to do in terms of hugs.

  I honestly never think I’ll get my fill of motherly hugs, and Jenna seems willing to dish them out often, almost as if she can sense my hunger for them. Given her ability to read people, she probably can.

  Just as I pull from Jenna’s embrace, Blake catches my eye from across the room and smiles at me. I smile back, but at the same time, a small fear grips me that I’ll have to give all this up—the Bennetts’ warmth, and Jenna’s hugs—because I can’t keep my hands or lips off Blake.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Blake

  I’m counting the minutes until someone questions me about Clara. My money is either on my sisters or Christopher. He warned me from the get-go that I had zero chances of keeping things platonic with Clara if she moved next to me.

  To my astonishment, I make it through almost the entire party before Summer approaches me, smiling sweetly, which is always a bad omen, but never more than today. She keeps looking between me and Clara, who is currently protecting Silas, Logan’s boy, from Mia and Elena. The twins have taken to tickling Silas as often as they can.

  Summer sits next to me at the large table, which is otherwise empty. She’s munching happily on a piece of cake.

  “How’s the newest painting coming along?” I ask.

  Summer remains silent for a few seconds, as if considering my words. “It’s coming along okay, but if I’m honest, I’m having more fun being a docent at the gallery than painting.”

  That’s news to me. “Really?”

  Summer nods. “Yeah. Maybe it’s all the years I’ve spent in Rome being a docent, but I seem to like it more to tell others about paintings of great artists rather than spending days alone in my studio with just my brush and a canvas, trying to create something great, then hoping I’ll find a vendor. Let’s face it. I’ll never be Picasso. Or Monet.”

  “No, you’re Summer Bennett. And personally, I’d buy your stuff over that Picasso guy’s anytime. His paintings make no sense. Some even freak me out.”

  “That’s because you’re not an art appreciator, Blake.”

  “True, you and Pippa got the creative genes and interest.”

  When Summer turned twelve, she started to show interest in all things art, begging everyone to take her to galleries and what-not. I was often her companion. It had been so boring I’d wanted to poke my eyes out, but I went for my sister. She drank up every word of the docents while I shut out their voice, especially when it came to modern art, which in my opinion looked as if Silas had gotten his hands on a black marker and went wild o
n a white canvas. Everyone else finds deeper meaning in those drawings. To me, a line is a line is a line. That’s all there was to it.

  “So, how’s the gallery, then?”

  “Oh, we just received the most wonderful collection by Van Gogh. We finished putting it up Friday. Tickets for it are already sold out for the entire next week.”

  I take a guess. “Is this the guy who cut off his ear and then blew his own brains out?”

  Summer narrows her eyes. “He had some issues, but he was also a genius. He used techniques, which...I see you’re phasing out already.”

  “What? No, no, no, I’m listening.” Truth be told, I’m hearing her, but not really listening. My brain is in the habit of wandering off at the first mention of words such as “technique”. Almost inadvertently, I focus on Clara, suddenly wishing I could fast forward the day, so I can be alone with her.

  “Let’s talk about Clara instead.” Yeah, that took no time at all. In all honesty, I haven’t helped my case by eye-fucking Clara from across the room. “By the way you’re looking at her, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say things are heating up? Do you need tips? She likes tacos, romantic comedies, and unusual cocktails.”

  Summer said all this at once, and she is now taking a much-needed breath. I take advantage of the split second of silence to turn the conversation back to her. I’m rescued by Daniel, who joins us, sitting on Summer’s other side.

  “This is a madhouse, and I never thought I’d say that about a three-year-old’s party. What are you two talking about?”

  “Clara,” Summer informs him. “Our brother’s been giving her hot looks for years now. I’m trying to gauge how far past looks they’ve gotten since she’s his neighbor.”

  “Blake, come on. Keep your hands off her. She’s sweet. Deserves better than your sorry ass.”

  Well, well. I hadn’t anticipated this. Daniel turning against me—the traitor. He’s my twin. There’s an unwritten rule that he must always have my back.

  “You’re not helping,” Summer admonishes him.

  “She’s a family friend. Don’t make things awkward for her. Remember Caroline?”

  My jaw ticks with annoyance. “Don’t judge me based on your mistakes.”

  The two of us met Caroline during our orientation week in college. We had in common that we were all from San Francisco. One thing led to another, and we became fast friends. During holidays, she came by our house a few times, and she quickly became a family friend. She was particularly close to Pippa. Then she and Daniel started dating during our senior year. That wouldn’t have been bad, per se, but things didn’t work out. Afterward, she slowly pulled away from the family. She still attends weddings and major events, but isn’t as close as she used to be. What a pity, especially because I suspect Daniel still has feelings for Caroline. They aren’t unrequited, but it’s none of my business.

  “Fair enough,” Daniel says.

  “What are you all talking about?” Logan asks, joining us. He walks to the opposite side of the table, searching in the baby bag sitting on a chair.

  “Just warning Blake off from Clara,” Daniel says nonchalantly.

  Logan snaps his head up. “You‘re hazing him? But you’re always on his side. I want a front row seat at the show.” Instead of taking whatever he needs from the bag, he drops into one of the seats. Lovely. Now I’m being cornered by two of my brothers.

  “No, Daniel is being mean,” Summer explains. “I am on Blake’s side.”

  “You always are though,” Logan says. “Clara’s a family friend, Blake.”

  “So was Nadine,” I remind him. “At least she was about to become one before you seduced her.”

  Picking on my brother is an old habit, one I’ve honed all my life. I also look up to Logan, but that’s something I rarely say out loud. It feeds his ego, and it seriously doesn’t need any inflating.

  “You’re not me,” Logan says.

  “Obviously. I have better style.” On a grin, I add, “And better hair.”

  “You have no faith,” Summer complains.

  “I deal in facts, numbers, and patterns.” Logan grins back. “But I actually do have faith in you. Based on the latest patterns, you’re on your way to becoming an honest man.”

  “Just to be sure, was that an insult or a compliment?”

  “Compliment.”

  Well, well, if today isn’t full of surprises. Logan’s on my side, Daniel’s still pissing me off. A movement in the background catches my eye. Clara’s crossing the room, carrying Silas and then handing him over to his mother. She looks good with a baby in her arms.

  “You have it really bad for her,” Logan comments with a shit-eating grin, and I can’t contradict him.

  Just then, my cousin Valentina steps in the center of the room, announcing loudly, “All right, time for Landon, Fred, and me to head out again.”

  “Are you sure you can’t stay?” Mother asks. “All the rooms are full here, but there’s a small hotel about five minutes away.”

  “Nah, sorry, Jenna. We have to head back out tonight.”

  As everyone—including my trio of interrogators—shuffles through the room to say goodbye, I scan the crowd for Clara.

  I find her near where the pile of presents was—now it’s just a pile of wrapping paper and cartons. She’s conversing with Landon and Valentina’s friend, Fred. At least she’s conversing, Fred is touching her. Her shoulder. Then her arm. Down her back. Then her shoulder again.

  I have the sudden urge to punch the guy, and I’m not a violent person. Stalking forward, I place an arm around Clara’s shoulder when I reach them.

  “I was just telling Clara she can come visit. I’ll happily give her a tour.”

  Yeah, Fred really isn’t helping his case here. The urge to rearrange his face grows stronger. What the hell?

  “I’ll let you know when I’m planning a trip,” Clara assures him. She smiles up at him, and her dimples are showing. I feel punched in the gut. I thought those sweet smiles of hers were just for me. But nope, apparently she goes around handing them out freely.

  When Landon calls Fred, he takes off with a nod. I step back from Clara, surveying her.

  “Why do you look pissed?” she asks.

  “Fred was hitting on you.”

  “No, he was being nice and polite.”

  “Showing you around town is code for trying to get in your pants.”

  Clara crosses her arms over her breasts, and the corners of her lips twitch.

  “You were smiling at him the way you smile at me. It’s messing with my head.”

  “Let me get this straight. You want me not to smile at people?”

  “Not people. Just men. Smile at women all you want. At my brothers too, actually. The older ones are married, and Daniel knows not to mess with you.”

  Clara’s expression opens up in a bright smile. Yeah, there they are—those dimples. They are all mine.

  “You have nothing to worry about. You’re the only one who is Blakealicious.”

  I blink. “Huh?”

  “Just made that up. The love child of Blake and delicious.”

  “Sounds like a bad stripper name.”

  “Do you know any good ones?”

  “What?”

  “Just testing how deep your knowledge of male strippers is.”

  I open my mouth, and then close it again. Where were we before? Aha, now I remember.

  “Are you trying to distract me from our fighting?”

  “Is it working?” Grinning, she claps her hands together.

  “No. So, are we clear in the smiling department?”

  She places a hand on my arm, stepping closer. Rising on her toes, she kisses my cheek, then whispers in my ear, “You’re not the boss of me, Blake.”

  This woman! She’s driving me insane.

  “I’m going to say goodbye to Valentina.”

  “This conversation isn’t over,” I warn.

  “Wasn’t dreaming it was.” When she
steps away, there’s an extra sway to her hips. I barely resist the urge to kiss her hard, staking my claim and showing everyone she belongs to me.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Clara

  I don’t get the chance to finish my conversation with Blake at all because after Landon and Valentina leave, my phone rings. I don’t have it on me, but it’s somewhere in the living room. Excusing myself from the group, I follow the sound. Why can’t I ever remember where I put my stuff? Eventually, I find my phone on top of a shelf. That’s right, I put it up there so it would be out of the kids’ reach. Glancing at the screen, I recognize the number of the head of the technical team at the studio. This can’t be good.

  “Hi, George!” I greet, putting my phone to my ear and stepping into a side corridor. There’s too much noise in the living room.

  “Sorry to bother you on the weekend, but we have a situation.”

  “I figured. What’s wrong?”

  “One of the sets just collapsed.”

  “What? Please tell me it’s not the one we need from Monday to Wednesday.”

  “That’s the one.”

  Groaning, I press my forehead against the wall. “Have you tried Quentin?”

  “Yes. He’s in Toronto, taking the next flight, but he said to call you in anyway. Between you and me, I don’t think he can handle this. He’ll have a meltdown when he sees the damage.”

  “Yeah.”

  I run a number of scenarios in my mind, even though deep down I know George is right. If this doesn’t get fixed this weekend, we’ll delay the production by two days, and then we’ll be in a precarious financial situation. No, this has to be fixed before Monday, which means spending the night at the studio and all day tomorrow.

  It means no more weekend, no more Blake. Damn, and I was really looking forward to riling him up some more. That jealous streak of his is simply delicious. There is so much untapped teasing potential there. Heat flares within me just thinking about it, especially because teasing him brings up another streak—the bossy one—and that one is, if possible, even more alluring. This is my punishment for being a naughty woman. But when duty calls, it calls.