Chapter 15: Ben's POV: Rule One, Husband

Ben's POV

I didn't speak on the drive home, because if I opened my mouth I would have told her everything at once.

Willa sat with her hand on the seat between us, palm up.

I took it at the first red light and didn't let go.

At the house I left the truck door hanging open and the porch light burning.

She stood in the front hall in the green dress, and I stood three feet from her.

For the first time in my life I did not know how to start.

"I called her a killer in front of the photograph," I said. "I said it to your face."

"Ben."

"I want to say I'm sorry before I touch you. I want it said first."

"You're sorry."

"I am sorrier than I've ever been about anything."

She crossed the three feet.

She took my face in both hands, and her hands were cold.

She looked at me for a long time with those gray eyes.

"Then touch me," she said.

I kissed her against the wall of my own hall.

It was nothing like the coat room.

I took her mouth slowly, because I had wanted to since the first night.

I had lain awake then, listening to her breathe behind a bolted door.

She tasted of wine and salt.

She made a small sound against my lips, and I felt it in my knees.

"Upstairs," she said.

"Whose room?"

"Yours." She was already working my tie loose. "I'm done with closed doors."

I carried her up.

She weighed nothing, and I told her so, and she bit my ear for it.

In my room I set her down by the bed and turned her to face the window.

I found the zipper at the back of the green dress.

I drew it down one inch at a time.

Her skin came out of the cloth pale and warm.

I put my mouth to her shoulder.

She shivered all the way down.

The dress fell to the floor. She stepped out of it in nothing but a pair of plain white underwear, and turned, and let me look.

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