Take Your Time (Fate and Circumstance #2) Page 29

  Lust and need swirled around my head, but it all came to an abrupt end when Bentley opened the front door. I couldn’t see who was there, but I heard a woman’s voice. With my pulse pounding in my ears—no longer between my legs—I made my way toward him, stopping cold once Bentley spoke.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  I wanted to run and hide, disappear from the room, but my feet remained frozen no more than twenty feet from the front door. I could hear them speaking, but I couldn’t make out the words they said past the harsh rush of blood through my ears. Then Bentley stepped aside, the bright morning sun filling the room and acting as a spotlight as it announced my presence.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, Ben. I had no idea you had company.” His mother’s voice broke through the panicked pulse that had overtaken my hearing. She sounded sweet and genuinely surprised as she stood in front of me with her dainty hand covering her chest.

  I tugged at the bottom of my T-shirt, and then I remembered I wasn’t wearing a bra. Keeping one hand holding the shirt down, I crossed the other over my chest, the fire of my embarrassment heating my cheeks.

  “Mom, this is Sarah Campbell.”

  Her sharp gasp caught my attention. It was clear that she knew of me by name, and it heightened the terror that jumbled my thoughts. My wide eyes darted between Bentley and his mother, not able to settle on one for long. But then his gentle, accepting smile broke through the haze that had surrounded me, and it allowed me to take a breath.

  His mother walked closer to me, seemingly oblivious to the fact that I stood there half naked. Her eyes—the same color as Bentley’s—softened as glistening tears formed in the corners before falling down her pale, smooth cheeks. Her bottom lip trembled, but it didn’t stop her mouth from turning up into a slight smile as she pulled her hand from her chest and reached out to place it on my face.

  The way she studied me left me stock-still, unable to move or say anything. It was as if I were the prodigal son returning, and this was her first time seeing him. Small, short wisps of air passed through her pink, barely parted lips, and I could tell emotion choked her up the same way it had done me earlier with Bentley.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice broken and barely audible, but I heard it nonetheless. Her arms folded around me, pulling me into the comforting embrace only a mother could give. “Thank you so much.”

  Giving in, I melted into her with my arms around her back. “You have nothing to thank me for, Mrs. Cole.”

  She abruptly pulled away, leaving my body cold from the absence of her warmth. “Yes, I do, my dear. You’ve given my son such a gift, and you need to know that. I understand that you aren’t meant to know the people who’ve received what you’ve graciously given, which makes it hard for you to grasp the magnitude of your selfless act. But please know that there are no words meaningful enough to thank you for what you’ve done.”

  I shook my head, unable to come to terms with her words as they clouded my thoughts. “Honestly, Mrs. Cole, I only signed a form. It wasn’t like I offered my own heart. I wouldn’t call it selfless…it was just a signature on a piece of paper.”

  She held my hands tight, her eyes boring into mine with such intensity that everything else faded into the background, leaving only her glistening eyes and confident voice to focus on. “But that signature saved my son’s life, just as I’m sure it has saved others, as well. It wasn’t just a piece of paper. If there’s one thing I’ve learned by waiting around for a heart to become available, it’s that so many people are too apprehensive to let the pieces of their loved ones go—even if it means it could save lives. So what was just a piece of paper to you, was the difference between hugging my child again, or putting him in the ground.”

  My breath caught in my throat as I choked on my sob. Tears clouded my vision until everything became a blur. When the doctor had spoken to me about donation, I never once thought of who would get her organs, or even which ones would be used. All I thought about was how my mother would no longer need them, and that if she could’ve made the decision herself, she would’ve signed the papers.

  “Mom,” I heard Bentley say, yet he sounded far off. “I think that’s enough.”

  “I’m sorry…I only wanted her to know how grateful I am.”

  “I’m sure she knows that, Mom.”

  I felt her presence being pulled away, the air around me growing cold. Blinking a few times to dispel the tears from my eyes, I reached out and grabbed ahold of her hand, preventing her from leaving. Her wide eyes met mine, probably confused by my sudden reaction after remaining silent for so long.

  “My mom was the type of person to give the shirt off her back to anyone who needed it. My decision to donate her organs was an easy one to make, because I knew my mom, and she would have wanted to save a life. I only carried out the wishes she would’ve wanted.”

  “Sarah.” The soft tip of her finger grazed my cheek, wiping away my tears. “You can learn so much about someone by their actions, and even more by their reactions. Anyone can give someone the shirt off their back, but it’s the true angels that do so in the absence of witnesses, never once seeking praise. You’re an angel, Sarah, and I know that your mother was, is, and will always be so very proud of you.”

  I was at a loss for words, unable to form even the smallest syllable. And before I could calm down enough to think straight, Bentley had his arm around my waist, leading me to his bedroom. He said something to his mom over his shoulder, but I couldn’t hear it—my thoughts were too loud inside my head.

  “I’m so sorry, Sarah.” Bentley closed his bedroom door behind him and then came to stand in front of me, holding my hands in his. “I forgot she was coming here this morning. You kinda took me by surprise and it slipped my mind.”

  “It’s okay, Bentley. I mean, it would’ve been nice to have clothes on for our first meeting, and preferably panties that weren’t soaking wet, but I’m fine. It just surprised me. I wasn’t expecting to hear that.”

  “Why not? It’s the truth. You need to know how grateful we all are for what you did. I don’t think you’ve understood how big it was. It did more than just affect me. It’s affected my entire family.”

  I nodded, trying to compose myself long enough to keep from crying again. I’d spent so long with tears in my eyes and numbness in my head, but this was completely different. This wasn’t born by pain or loss. The tears, the lightheadedness, the lack of full thoughts in my mind, were from understanding and happiness. And it’d been a long time since I’d experienced that kind of emotion.

  “Listen…I was supposed to go with my mom to look at a horse. I can cancel and see if maybe she can reschedule it if you want me to.”

  “No. Don’t do that. Go with her. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

  He pushed my hair behind my ear, his light touch sending shivers down my neck. “Do you want to come with us? I can’t promise it won’t be boring for you, but you’re more than welcome to come.”

  Excitement built in my chest at the thought of being around horses, but I knew I couldn’t take his time from his mother. I’m sure it hadn’t been easy for her to be so far away while Bentley was sick, and probably even worse when he chose to stay back for me instead of coming home to his family. “No. You go with her and do what you need to. If you don’t mind, I think I’d like to stay here. I’m really tired and should probably sleep some more.”

  His fingers threaded through my hair on either side of my head as he pulled my face closer to his. When his lips closed over mine, I fell into him, my arms going around his bare back as my chest pressed against his. But before it could turn into anything more, he backed away.

  “Sorry. My mom showing up completely ruined the mood. But I promise, I’ll make up for it once I get back. I’ll more than make up for it.” His grin stretched wider as he moved away to pull clothes from his closet.

  The bed creaked as I sat on the edge, intently watching his every move. In the time we’d spent together back home, I’d neve
r seen him without a shirt on, so I never knew what his body actually looked like beneath his clothes. But seeing him now, standing in nothing but a pair of jeans, something just seemed different about him. “Have you lost weight? Is that from being sick?”

  Bentley tucked his chin to his chest as he peered down his own body and ran his hand over his abdomen. “Yeah, mostly. But it’s also because I can’t work out like I used to. So I’m losing muscle mass as well. I’ll probably continue to lose it.”

  “Why can’t you work out?”

  He pulled his shirt over his head and leaned down to kiss my cheek. “We’ll talk all about it after I get back. I think we’re way overdue for this conversation.” He kissed me once more and then left the room.

  I hid in his room until they were gone. All my clothes were still in my duffel bag in the bathroom on the other side of the house, so I had nothing to wear, and I didn’t care to embarrass myself even further in front of his mother.

  Once the front door closed, I made my way out of his room and grabbed a pair of cotton shorts from my bag. Bentley’s house was large, and I hadn’t had the time to look around yet, so after I got dressed and brushed my teeth, I gave myself my own tour. The more I roamed, the worse I felt about it, feeling like I was somehow invading his personal space. But I couldn’t sit around and do nothing. So I decided to clean, which gave me something productive to do while allowing me the chance to explore his elaborate home.

  Hours later, his entire house was spotless, not one speck of dust left behind. The floors were swept, vacuumed, and mopped. The basket of clothes in his bathroom were washed, dried, and put away. I’d even taken the time to sweep the front porch. With nothing else to do, I crawled into bed for what I’d hoped to be a quick nap. But I must’ve been more tired than I thought, because when my eyes fluttered open again, it was evening and the sun was about to set.

  Disoriented, I pulled myself out of bed and checked the time. Where was Bentley?

  The sheer fabric that hung next to the French doors in his room blew gently in the breeze, catching my attention. The doors led out to a private patio that ran the width of his bedroom, only accessible from his room, or by walking around to the back of the house. I’d eaten my lunch out there earlier before cleaning it from top to bottom, clearing out the cobwebs from the corners. I thought I’d closed the doors after coming back inside, but they were wide open.

  I slowly crept along the wall on my tiptoes, worry pounding heavily beneath my ribcage. The house was literally in the middle of nowhere. Anyone could stumble upon it and do as they pleased without the fear of getting caught. And if I’d left the doors open, anything was possible. But once I pulled back the curtain, I found Bentley sitting along the far rail with his back against the wall, staring out into the trees. I stood silently for a moment and observed him, wanting so desperately to know what thoughts ran through his mind as he gazed longingly out into the yard, unmoving in his spot.

  It wasn’t until I approached him before he took notice of my existence. His eyes were lazy as they took me in, a gentle grin teasing the corners of his mouth. “Did you sleep well?”

  I climbed onto the railing and leaned against the support beam in the corner, facing him. “Yeah. I guess I was more tired than I thought I was.”

  “Cleaning will do that to you.”

  My lips pulled tight and I quickly turned my head away, becoming embarrassed for some reason—probably because I didn’t want him to know I’d been snooping around his house. “Yeah, well…it needed it. You had dust bunnies, and I didn’t really have anything else to do. You get like zero cell reception out here.”

  His chuckle rolled through the air and settled over me, relaxing me. “I like not having cell service out here. It keeps me real. I’m not attached to my phone like most people are these days. But you said you didn’t want to go with us because you were tired, so why didn’t you just lie down and take a nap? You didn’t have to clean.”

  “You have to be careful, Bentley.” I glanced up and caught his gaze, admiring for a moment how the orange glow from the setting sun lit his eyes. “You are susceptible to getting sick easier than most, and living in a dusty house isn’t good for you.”

  “I am cautious, but that doesn’t mean I have to live in a bubble. What kind of life would it be if I had to walk around with a surgical mask on all the time, too scared to touch anything or go anywhere? What would be the point in getting a new heart if I couldn’t live at least somewhat normally?”

  My gaze fell away as I contemplated his question. He had a point, but that didn’t mean I’d back down so easily. “I never said you had to wear a HAZMAT suit, only that you should live in a clean house.”

  “And my house was clean. A few dust bunnies doesn’t constitute a messy house.”

  “No…it doesn’t. But the bedrooms were covered in dust. Do you ever go back there? Do you ever clean the rooms that aren’t used?” I waited through his silence, and when he didn’t respond, I worried I’d said something wrong. “Bentley, I’m sorry if cleaning your house bothered you, that wasn’t my intent. I was bored and wanted to make myself useful. I only wanted to do something to help prevent you from getting sick again.”

  He sighed deeply, rested his head against the wall behind him, and stared up at the porch ceiling. “Is this how the rest of my life is going to be?”

  “What do you mean? Being cautious and focusing on your health?”

  “No,” he said, his attention falling back to me. “Listening to you lecture me about dust and rooms I never use. Is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my life?”

  Flutters filled my stomach and my pulse picked up speed. I ran his words through my mind, and then repeated them again, making sure there was no way I’d misunderstood him before responding. “The rest of your life? How long do you plan on keeping me here?”

  “I don’t know…how long do you plan to stay?”

  I wanted to be irritated at his inability to answer a question properly, but the uneasiness in his eyes tampered my annoyance. I didn’t think I’d ever grow accustomed to seeing such a large man, such a confident, strong person show so much insecurity. “Well, I have the week off work. I was supposed to watch Ayla for Bree and Axel while they went on their honeymoon, but things changed once I found out about you. My dad ended up taking Ayla, giving me the chance to come here. But I have work next week, and I’ll need to get back to my house.”

  He abruptly leaned forward, pressing his elbow into his knee. “You don’t need to work. I can take care of you. We can live out here where no one can get to us. Just you and me.”

  I wasn’t sure if he’d meant it, or if it was supposed to be a joke, so I didn’t know how to respond. I decided on the truth with a hint of humor, just in case. “That doesn’t sound so appealing to me, Bentley. You may enjoy the freedom from your cell phone, but I don’t care for it too much. Not to mention, I’d never allow a man to take care of me financially.”

  “What about when you’re married? When you have babies? Wouldn’t you rather be at home raising them instead of having someone else take care of them for you?”

  It quickly became clear that he hadn’t meant it as a joke, and I felt clueless as to what I should say to him. “To be honest with you…I’m not sure I want to get married.”

  “But I thought you said you were wrong about love…”

  “I don’t have any issues with love. It’s the marriage part that I’m unsure about. I’ve always been incredibly independent, and I’ve never had any problem with taking care of myself. I don’t need a marriage license to love someone.”

  He leaned back again and studied his fidgety hands in his lap.

  “Does that bother you?”

  Giving me a noncommittal shrug, he said, “Sort of. I would like to get married one day. I don’t mean tomorrow or even next year, but at some point before I die, I’d like to have a wife. I’d like to have a home and be settled. Staring death in the face, believing I’d neve
r get to experience that…it changed something in me.”

  “Without sounding presumptuous, if you happen to have me in mind when thinking about a future, I agree that I’d like to spend my life with someone. I want those same things—the home, someone to share my days with. But why do I have to walk down an aisle to get that?”

  “Just tell me, what’s your reasons for not wanting to get married?” It wasn’t anger in his hard expression. His tight lips and hard eyes were filled with hesitation, his restless hands expressed unease, and his rigid posture conveyed apprehension.

  “Weddings are all for show. The gown, the makeup, the hundreds of pictures that are taken. It’s why so many guests are invited. The food and cake, the decorations and cheesy song lists…it’s nothing but a big show.”

  “I’m talking about marriage, not the wedding.”

  “Okay, so you go stand in front of a judge and you’re pronounced husband and wife. For what? A piece of paper that binds you together until you go back in front of a judge and wait for someone to declare you divorced? Why go through that when you can just live with the person and be happy?”

  His head barely shook side to side as the tiniest of smiles held his lips. “I knew it. I called it that first night at the diner. But you denied it. You have a fear of commitment.”

  “I do not,” I argued back matter-of-factly. “I told you that I have no problem being with someone for the rest of my life. That’s a commitment. I don’t have to sign a government document to prove I’m committed to someone.”

  “Do you rent or own your house?”

  His question threw me for a loop. “I rent. Why?”

  “That figures. Mortgage is another form of commitment. Thirty years of payments that you can’t do. It’s easier to pay someone each month to live in their house instead of getting your own. Much like it’s easier to live with someone instead of making a home with that person. You can leave whenever you want. I repeat. No commitment.”