SevenDeadlySinsSeries Read online

  I groaned. The last thing I need is Benton Frazier. Still, he’d saved me from being raped and hadn’t been shitty about it at all. Unusual. I managed a slight smile, “I suppose so. Listen Benton…”

  His manicured fingers lifted to my lips and pressed against them, “No Liz, you listen. I’ve done a lot of stupid shit in my life, a lot. By far the dumbest was letting you go. I behaved like a juvenile and an imbecile in front of you so many times that I’m forever humiliated. Any man in his right mind would bury his head in the sand and hide like a scolded dog, but I tried that path and it didn’t work. As a matter of fact, I feel like I’m in some kind of twelve step program here, withdrawal, denial, anger, desperation… well you get it. But now I’m at the point that it’s time to tell you what a fucking idiot I’ve been and beg for your forgiveness. Please forgive me Liz? I love you with all my heart, and never meant to hurt you.”

  Now my eyes were as big as quarters. I can’t believe this! Does this ass think I’m just going to forgive him and run home to Charleston with him just because he says he’s sorry? One thing I know for sure about Benton Frazier is that he’s as smooth as a two tongued snake. He could talk the Queen out of her panties, and may have. “Benton, I uh…” But then a memory flew into my head: it was the night my mother had passed. Benton didn’t leave my side. He held me through the night with a vice like grip as I’d cried onto his broad chest. Without him I never would have made it through that night or the weeks that followed. And it hadn’t been the only time he’d been my rock. No, he’d been there with amazing strength whenever I’d needed him. I softened, “I never thought you hurt me on purpose, Benton. And I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you were there for me with Kinsley. I can’t even imagine what she had planned for me, but I’m sure it wasn’t pleasant. You’ve always been there for me when I needed you and for that I love you. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.” I managed a smile and took his hand.

  He squeezed my hand protectively, “Well it’s a start.”

  “A start?”

  He lifted my hand in his to his lips and kissed my fingers, “A start to proving to you that I’m the better man. That Michaud mess is not where you belong, Liz. You’ve had enough drama in your life to last you forever. The more I dug into this thing with Webster Shipping, the clearer it became that Kinsley was orchestrating some pretty nasty shit. It occurred to me when Michaud Senior died that she wasn’t going to take it lightly when you showed up with Carlton for the funeral. My guess, because I know you, is that you only added kerosene to her blazing fire. But that bitch is fierce Liz; she makes Charleston gold diggers look like puppies. Hence, I befriended her!” he laughed.

  I couldn’t help but laugh. Of course he did. Palmer always says that Benton Frazier is as slick as eel shit, and he wasn’t wrong. With his exquisitely perfect outer image he could wiggle his way into any woman’s bed, and it didn’t surprise me that even Kinsley fell into his web. I studied him next to me. After an eight hour flight there wasn’t a blonde hair out of place, or the slightest wrinkle on his starched button down. He smelled like heaven on a cracker, and appeared even more muscular than he’d been a few months ago. I knew he would never admit it, but somewhere in Charleston there was a tanning salon where everyone knew his name. There was something different though, different from the lazy playboy I’d grown up with. Was it in his voice? Or in his eyes? I couldn’t place it but something was missing. “You’re probably right,” I sighed, “whirlwind romances aren’t my thing I guess. I’m too simple minded.”

  Benton roared with laughter, attracting the attention of the flight attendant who noticed I was awake and immediately delivered a plastic cup of champagne. Benton pulled my hand to his lips again and stared into my eyes, “My dear, simple is the one thing you are not!”

  “Well now I’m not entirely sure how to take that,” I lightened.

  He kissed my hand, “After you left it took me a long time. First to fuck anything in Charleston County that moved. After a while I realized that sneaking out of beds in the middle of the night wasn’t for me. God help me Liz, I think I’m monogamous!”

  My mouthful of champagne spewed over the back of the seat in front of me, “Oh hell!” I choked with laughter as the attendant rushed towards me with napkins. “Impossible! Benton Frazier with one woman? Sorry.” I wiped my mouth with the napkins, “That’s a tough pill to swallow.”

  Astoundingly, Benton looked injured, “I’m serious as a heart attack. But don’t think this epiphany came easy. It took losing the one thing that ever meant a damn thing to me to get me to come to this realization.”

  I sobered, “You can’t even keep a car for more than a year before you get bored with it or a newer more exciting model comes along. What the hell makes you think that you’d ever be satisfied with one woman for the rest of your life?”

  He turned towards me and leaned close, “Because I discovered that there’s one woman I’ll never be satisfied without.”

  “Is this the part where you order me to the bathroom to take off my panties and wait for you?” I regretted the comment almost immediately; after all it was the first time Benton and I had held a serious conversation about his feelings. Until now we’d only discussed sex, work, and how pissed off we were at each other. It’d never occurred to me before, until I actually heard him express a feeling that his feelings had always been foreign to me.

  He stared at me, obvious hurt screamed through the pale blue curtain of his eyes. I held my breath, waiting for the onslaught. But none came. A heavy breath drifted from his lungs as he leaned back into his seat and closed his eyes, “Wake me up when we land.”

  “Benton please, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that!” I whispered.

  He shook his head, but his eyes remained closed and said nothing. It was the end of the conversation and I felt like crap. Of course that’s what he wanted, me to feel like crap. He could play my emotions like a concert pianist. No way in hell am I falling for this again! Total bullshit! “UGH! Benton Frazier, you will not play me like this!” I growled through steeled lips.

  His head turned towards me and he opened one eye, slightly peering at me with a glimmer. A small smile formed on his face and he reached over and took my hand as he winked at me. Wait just a damned minute! Had he just acknowledged he was playing me? Who is this man? When caught in a lie Benton Frazier always assumed defensive mode, his stance was denial, denial, denial. I glared at him in disbelief as he resumed his nap; the small smile still marked slight creases beside his lips. He suddenly looked older to me. I hadn’t noticed it before, but clear as day his entire carriage seemed older. And there were other previously unnoticed differences in him. For instance, unruly curls had been slicked back neatly. His outdoorsy competitive spirit seemed faded or overcome by such an air of professionalism that it was no longer prominent. A secret that no one other than me knows is that Benton Frazier shaves his chest. He’d love for everyone to believe that his sleek pecks are natural on his chest, but the truth is that he Nair’s and shaves his chest every single day, but now small curls of blond peek through the opening of his shirt. To be honest, now that I look at him, he is a completely different man.

  *-*-*-*-*

  “Where are you staying?” I asked as we walked through the terminal towards baggage claim.

  “NoMad Hotel. I like it there. Makes me feel like I’m visiting another era.”

  I chuckled, “Well, if you feel like being in the real world you’re welcome to stay at the apartment.”

  We pulled our bags from the carousel and headed towards the exit. His eyebrows raised as he glanced down at me in feigned surprise, “Why Liz! You shock me! I pull you out of a flat full of women who want to fuck you with God knows what, and all you want to do is get in my pants. Honestly woman, give me some heart here! Argh! Women!” he shook his head playfully.

  Playfully? Good Lord I think he’s flirting with me! I kicked the back of his calf as he stepped in front of me to hail a cab. Af
ter giving the driver my address he patted my thigh, “Seriously, you really need to come by and check out this hotel. They have a great wine bar. How about you take a long nap and meet me there at nine? It’s like some romantic version of a safari from the 1940’s. I can’t really explain it. You just have to see it to understand.”

  Whoever this man is, he’s radiating sensuality. Not the football star recklessness that had attracted me before. This time it’s something that smells like experience. As luck would have it that was the exact moment my hand chose to rise to my neck. The unbreakable bond around my neck suddenly felt like a mistake; a choker that burned into my skin fiercely now that I had been reminded of it. Once again Benton had saved me; this time from my own devices. If I’d been left alone on the long flight home I would’ve done nothing but fume and plot and rage about the situations Carlton had put me in. He’d warned me that it would be awkward to meet his family for the first time at a funeral, and he’d warned me that they were unusual people, but he hadn’t warned me about Kinsley and he didn’t seem to take Missy’s participation seriously. On top of all of that, he’d left me without the information I needed to combat them all and the scars they’d left on my retinas. Instead, I’d been forced to play detective. I felt like he’d sent me into the lion enclosure at the zoo to pick pretty flowers. And I’d just gone right along skipping and singing because all I could see was his sexy face waiting for me at the end.

  “Liz? Remember me?”

  I shook my head, “What? Oh right! Wine at nine at the NoMad. Be there or be a pear.”

  “Good! See you then,” he leaned over and pecked me on the cheek as the taxi pulled up in front of my building.

  I swear I could smell the stench of my apartment from the lobby of our building. A deep sense of foreboding consumed me as I stepped from the elevator and looked at the door. There was no sense in putting it off, but it didn’t get any better when my key seemed to stick in the lock. How the hell you get the inside of a door lock sticky confounds me; leave it to Palmer. One step inside and I knew things were not good. “Palmer!” I called out. I was instantly surrounded by two extremely grateful Dalmatians. Jargon and Nuscience had both gained weight, no doubt due to the lack of exercise. “Palmer!” I yelled again as I stood now fully covered in dog kisses.

  Now it’s times like this that a person has a choice. I can either throw a tantrum much like the one on the day I left New York, or I can just dig in my heels and get to cleaning. Cleaning is therapy for me; the solitude and mindless action is just what the doctor ordered. I dropped my bags off in my bedroom and threw on a pair of gym shorts and an old tee-shirt and got to work. The entire apartment felt like it’d been picked up and shaken. I’ve seen less mess after a Charleston hurricane. Still, somewhere between the cheeseburger remains on the counter and the dog pee in the hallway I found an ounce of peace. This entire thing was my fault. Carlton hadn’t wanted me to go to Worchester with him, yet I’d pushed my way into the trip and I’d gotten my due.

  All the thrills and chills that surround Carlton Michaud had been transformed into something that now resembled more of a train wreck than an exciting love affair. Don’t you hate the rare moments when clarity prevails and the rose colored glasses no longer work? In this case I can’t even credit distance for the sudden 20/20 vision. I’d had more than a glimpse into the Michaud family, and in this case distance is a blessing. The thought of home swarmed through me and my homesickness was getting a grip. I needed familiarity, comfort and safety, and I’d been invited to visit it at the NoMad Hotel.

  As soon as the apartment was back to a semblance of decency I found myself mindlessly standing in front of my closet. Despite my precarious past with Benton, he’d been there for me when I needed him the most, like he always had been. This time he brought something new to the table though; something mature and sexy. And that’s what I was looking for in my closet, something mature and sexy. Fortunately I was distracted by the sound of the front door opening and closing.

  “Liz?”

  I stepped to the doorway expecting to see my carefree surfer brother. Instead, a tall blonde woman walked towards me. Wait just a damn minute…she’s wearing my red polka dot sundress and Mom’s diamond necklace. “Palmer?”

  “Hey girlfriend! Didn’t know you were coming home already. I guess you’re pissed I didn’t clean?” He hugged me tightly as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “That’s… ugh… my dress!” I soaked in the transformation my brother had taken in my absence.

  Palmer spun around in front of me, “What do you think? I think it accentuates my hips.” He posed runway style in the hallway before prancing towards the kitchen. I followed him speechlessly; I couldn’t take my eyes off him for a damn minute. I don’t think anything could possibly be more abundantly clear at this moment.

  He was standing in front of the open refrigerator staring at its contents when I leaned against the kitchen counter staring at him like a deer caught in headlights. “Just for shits and giggles Palmer, why don’t you tell me how this is some psycho mania behavior brought on by you missing me so much the past few weeks?”

  My brother paused and turned towards me with a grin, “You mean Norman Bates style?”

  Damn it, even wearing my red dress and Momma’s necklace his smile sent havoc to my heartbeat. As a child, random women would come up to us in the grocery store and pinch his cheeks and proclaim that this boy was going to break the very heart of Charleston itself; they weren’t wrong. Of course I don’t think they meant it exactly the way it turned out… him wearing his sister’s clothes and prancing in three inch heels. “Are those Prada heels?” I said dumbfounded.

  Glancing at his feet he shot me another deadly smile, “eBay baby.”

  I raised my eyebrows, “Who knew Prada made heels in a man’s size twelve?”

  “I know, right?” he grabbed a bar of cheddar cheese and snatched the half empty box of Ritz crackers from the counter in front of me as he danced past, “I’m famished!” He plopped down onto the living room sofa and took a large bite out of the block of cheese. Nuscience and Jargon turned to instant traitors as they took up residence around his Prada heels and salivated as he shoved a cracker into his mouth.

  “Jesus Palmer! You are the worst gay man on the fucking planet!” I exclaimed as crumbs of crackers spread across his lap and the couch.

  “Stereotypes…” he mumbled as he tossed two crackers onto my newly cleaned floor for the begging spotted lumps of hypocrisy at his feet. It’d only been a few hours ago that I’d been their savior.

  “Yeah, well, you’re seriously taking all the fun out of it for me.”

  “How’s that Sis?” Pigpen gazed at me over his shoulder.

  “You’re supposed to be a clean freak, able to style my hair and decorate!” I grabbed my iPad from the coffee table in front of him.

  “Whatcha doing?” he asked shoving more crackers and cheese into his mouth.

  “Barnes and Noble must have a book on how to be gay, because you’re doing it all fucking wrong Palmer!”

  He stared at me for several minutes, then looked down at himself and the dogs. His laughter took hold and suddenly he was holding his stomach and tears were streaming down his face. He grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the sofa next to him, “Really? Someone needs a tickle!” Within minutes our laughter and his onslaught of my rib cage subsided, and the release of endorphins brought the pain in my heart to the forefront, and tears came in earnest now.

  My brother pulled me close beneath his arm as I sobbed, “Come on Liz, spill it. Tell me all the nasty details.”

  I went through our peaceful week cut short at our house on the island and on to the curious behaviors of the Michaud’s then to Benton’s rescue from the hands of Kinsley. It was now time for Palmer to be speechless he stared at me with disbelief. I could tell he was trying desperately to wrap his mind around what I’d told him. Finally he said, “Those English are strange folks, aren’t they?” />
  I couldn’t help but laugh again, “This coming from the man in Prada heels and my sundress?”

  “What?” he smoothed the wrinkles from his lap. “I like the way it makes me feel.”

  “Yeah well here’s a hint. If you’re going to go sleeveless you may want to consider shaving your armpits.” I reached up and yanked his underarm hair.

  “OW! Point well made!” he laughed again but I could tell he was struggling with the information I’d spilled. “So, are you going to meet Benton?”

  With a deep sigh I leaned back on the sofa beside him, “I don’t know. On one hand I feel like I need some stability right now, something so familiar that I meld into it without thought. But I’m not so sure that Benton is that familiar anymore. He seems so different.”

  “Well, you understand that I’m not a Benton fan, but even I have to admit that what he did wasn’t very Benton-like. Stranger things have happened. Maybe he grew up? I don’t know, but I damn sure wouldn’t trust that. Most likely its some act he planned to get you tied up to his bed again. That’s where my money’s going.”

  I nodded; his analogy took hold. “You’re right! I can either bet on the dark horse with the crazy ass family who thinks everyone in their household should fuck one another, or the white horse I’ve ridden since I was a kid.”

  “Exactly, but don’t forget that white horse threw you into a pile of shit and headed for the barn.”

  “Point well made,” I said plainly. “So can you help me pick out something to wear tonight?”

  Palmer stared at me, “I guess the shit washed off while you were in England, huh? I never thought I’d see the day when Benton Frazier became the good guy. Come on,” he stood and pulled me to my feet, “I’ve been to the NoMad and you need a certain amount of kitsch to fit in… not a look you’re used to.”

  “I’m tired Palmer. Let me rest a bit, and then you can help me dress.”

  *-*-*-*-*