Page 38 of All of You

“Of course I want to win. I’m not one of those people who will pretend to demur and say winning doesn’t matter. It does. I want to. I want all six of them, now that I know it’s possible. It really is an honor to be nominated. But I won’t pretend I don’t want them.”

The smile he gave me was its own kind of fire, brilliant and hot.

“That’s one reason I like you, Whit. You’re not afraid to be you. You’re not afraid to go after what you want and work hard and admit that you work hard. I admire that.”

“Thanks. I’m not sure everyone agrees with you, but I appreciate the thought.”

I tipped back my glass and finished it, then poured a bit more. Ben hadn’t had more than a sip or two.

“I think six nominations can officially serve as your notification that, whether people say they like your ferocious work ethic and your talent, they like what comes from it and want more.” He quirked an eyebrow at me.

“Fair enough,” I said, and took a drink, then let my head rest against the back of the couch and watched the fire crackle and pop, tendrils of smoke swirling up into the chimney. “I wish it’d snow.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice,” he said, and settled back into the cushion, his head a foot or so from mine.

“I bet we’ll run into snow on the tour. We’ll be in New York, Chicago, all kinds of places between. There’s a good chance.” I let my eyes close and breathed deep.

When was the last time I’d just sat with someone, music in the background with a fire in my fireplace?

Had I ever done that?

“What’s wrong?”

His voice cut in, and I rolled my head to look at him.

“I just had this thought that I’m not sure I’ve ever done this—just sat on my couch with someone and listened to the fire and music. I don’t slow down well, and I’m rarely with people I don’t employ.” The heat then stung my cheeks. “I guess I sort of employ you, don’t I?”

He put his big, warm hand on one of mine. “You aren’t paying me, so no. I’d like to think we were becoming friends anyway, but now we definitely are.”

The smile crept over my face as I looked back into his blue eyes. Friends. I like that. “Good.”

“So you and Jamie never just… hung out? Or other friends?” He set his glass on the tray and settled back in.

“Jamie and I were never just relaxing together,” I started, then saw his eyebrows raise and quickly added, “not like that. No, we liked each other, but we were hardly ever together. Neither one of us was very good at taking down time. I think Jamie and I are actually a little too alike in terms of our intensity with work.”

“I can see how that would make it difficult to just be together. But that resting is particularly important when you’re worked to the bone. Isn’t it?” He held my hand palm-up in his, and with the opposite index finger, traced slow shapes into my wrist.

It was an unexpected kind of contact. It felt intimate, sweet, a little seductive. But it felt simple and comforting, too.

“I’m sure it is. Kendra tries to help build in mandated rest. But it’s usually pretty solitary, or I end up doing it with employees who’ve become friends. I love Amanda and Damon. Nikki and I get along well for the most part, and Ru and Kendra are great. I have a few other people you’ll meet on tour—all great. So I know I’m blessed in that way. The people who work for me are amazing.”

He waited, evidently hearing the words I hadn’t said. “But they work for you.”

“Yep.”

“Sounds lonely.”

He looked down at the finger that traced unknown messages into my skin. Watching his finger sliding along that parchment-thin part of me, feeling the warmth of his hand cradling mine gently, a pang of longing hit me so hard that my chest ached.

“It is.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Ben

I’d just gotten reamed by LTC Baker, and it would likely be the last time for the year. Thank God. In just a few short weeks, Baker had made his presence known, and not in a good way. He wasn’t the kind of commander you looked forward to sitting down and talking with.

And now, he would likely do everything he could to make my future in the Army less than ideal. Because I was an idiot and talked back when he asked rhetorical questions while he soap-boxed me into oblivion.

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