Never Too Much Read online

  Ben waited until her footsteps faded away toward the kitchen before allowing his grim smile to appear. “Oh I will, babe.” He attacked the old lock with a vengeance. The lock broke and he tossed it aside. “You can bet on it.” He’d suit himself, and he’d win her over in the bargain.

  Chapter Ten

  The moon was so bright, it left long shadows on the ground as Sierra loaded her truck. She’d been home about an hour, had already showered and changed into loose shorts and a big comfortable tee. Because she couldn’t settle down, and she knew she wouldn’t sleep, she decided to prepare the truck for the morning.

  Unable to stop herself, she glanced across the street at the lights coming from Ben’s lobby and the diner, which by this time of night was only serving drinks. She could hear the low thrum of conversation and laughter carried on the night breeze, mingling with music from the jukebox. He had a crowd there every night, not just the guests, but locals as well, truck drivers. . . women.

  Sierra forced herself to look away.

  For a man who kept such long hours, Ben never seemed overly tired. He worked every aspect of the motel and diner and never complained. In fact, he seemed to love it all.

  Especially the flirting.

  Sierra had watched the days tick by, three, four, a week, a week and a half—ten days of being “friends” with Ben. Ten days since they’d installed the locks.

  Ten days since he’d kissed her.

  True to his word, he’d put his sexual interest on hold, or else he was appeasing himself elsewhere. Damn it, if he hadn’t already shown her how nice it was to be more than friends, she’d be happy with the situation.

  But she did know, and regardless of what she knew to be wise, even necessary, she wanted more.

  It had become a familiar routine for Sierra, returning from a long day of work, preparing for another, and seeing Ben. He’d so thoroughly invaded her life that she now expected to see him, when she didn’t have that right.

  She’d set the boundaries of friendship, while other women threw themselves at him. It made her crazy to think about it.

  It made her really hate Griff for forcing her to it.

  She’d been working full steam, hoping to stay so busy she wouldn’t have time to think, not about Ben and not about Griff. She was so thoroughly spent that even her bones ached, but she still tossed and turned all night. At least she’d gotten ahead on her jobs and had new jobs scheduled, and the success of her business looked promising.

  If only her worries ended there.

  Amazingly enough, other than a few more calls, Griffin had left her alone. All of the threats that she’d imagined, both physical and to her business, had never materialized. She was nearly weak with relief, but unwilling to let down her guard for a single moment. She’d learned the hard way that you could never second-guess Griff, and that he was vengeful beyond her wildest imagination.

  Why he felt so vengeful, she didn’t know. It certainly wasn’t from a broken heart. The man had no heart, and he sure hadn’t held any affection for her when they’d been together. But with a father as mayor, and powerful relatives with money to burn, her ex had the means to win whatever campaigns he started.

  She only hoped his newest campaign wasn’t against her.

  Again.

  In the past, Griffin had hurt her by hurting those she cared about. She could never forget that.

  Because damn it, she cared about Ben.

  Nights were the worst, when she was in her lonely bed with only the silence of her small home to comfort her. She’d driven herself into the ground trying to avoid thoughts of Ben, but it hadn’t worked. She was so fractious, so overwrought and short-tempered and jumpy, she could barely stand herself.

  All because of a sexual frustration she hadn’t even known existed a month ago. It grew every day, despite their lack of intimacy, but that was likely because Ben was so wonderful—as a neighbor, as a lover, and now as a friend.

  He was often watching for her when she got home at night, sharing a friendly ear and that dimpled smile. In the mornings, she saw him when she went for coffee. He kept his conversations generic, his touches avuncular, and she was slowly becoming demented with desire.

  If Griffin had truly given up on harassing her, then what did it matter if she got involved with Ben?

  She heard someone behind her, thought it might be Ben conjured from her thoughts, and she grinned with a measure of happiness that shook her sensible foundation.

  Trying to wipe away her smile, she turned—and came face to face with Griffin Ross.

  His appearance threw her, especially since she’d been half expecting Ben. Panic slammed into her full force, momentarily stealing her breath. Griffin noted her reaction. His grin wasn’t nice and wasn’t encouraging.

  “Hey, baby. You look real happy to see me.”

  Sierra pulled herself together. “Get off my property.” The words, meant to be shouted, came out as a whisper of sound.

  His grin widened. “Now what kind of greeting is that for your husband?”

  Sierra forced her muscles to loosen. Kent had taught her things, self-defense methods, and she knew she had to stay relaxed, had to stay ready. She rolled her shoulders, flexed her hands. Griff just watched, smirking at her efforts.

  She would need emotional strength, more than physical strength, to defy him and his effect on her.

  Her voice grew stronger, her repugnance plain. “Oh no. You aren’t my husband, Griff. I gave up everything to be rid of you—and believe me, it was well worth it.”

  “You gave up nothing because you had nothing, isn’t that right?” Pale blue eyes narrowed on her face. “And you know deep down you’ll never be rid of me. You fucked up my life, and that pisses me off.”

  “I—”

  He moved so fast, a startled screech escaped her. One second he was several feet away, the next he was right in front of her, gripping her upper arms with deliberate, bruising force. Griffin loved to see her recoil in pain. She’d found that out right after the wedding.

  He pulled her up on her tiptoes until she felt his hot breath in her face, could smell the beer he’d drunk and the sour odor of his hatred. “You always were a stupid little bitch, Sierra.” He gave her one hard shake, his voice humming with excitement and triumph at her small sound of discomfort. He looked at her mouth. “If you had any smarts, you’d be nicer to me.”

  The familiar insults had always precluded an attack, and she’d learned to brace herself. But this time they had a peculiar effect on her. By small degrees, her fear receded. Her racing heartbeat slowed to a solid, steady thud. Her breathing calmed and finally evened out. She hung limp in his hold, knowing a battle, regardless of what Kent had taught her, would be useless.

  In the past, she’d cowered from him, unable to meet his gaze. Now she stared him in the eyes and dared to smile. “Only a pathetic worm would need to hurt a woman to make himself feel more like a man.”

  And she spit in his face.

  Outrage washed over Griff in trembling force. His blue eyes bulged, going icy pale against the dark color pulsing in his face. He released her left arm and drew back to slap her—and Sierra moved. She twisted, ducking away and wrenching her other arm painfully in the process but still freeing herself, which had been her objective. Feeling far too slow and clumsy, she snatched up the sharp edged shovel she’d just put in her truck.

  A sense of power and adrenaline coursed through her, making her audacious in her anger. She taunted him, almost wanting him to lunge, to try something. “C’mon, Griff. C’mon, you bastard.” Her hands felt sweaty on the wooden handle, and she gripped it harder, moving it like a ballplayer ready at bat. “Touch me again and I swear I’ll take your head off.”

  Incredulous, Griff stood stock still, her saliva slipping down his cheek until he slowly reached up and swiped it away. His teeth clenched and his lips pulled back so that his words slurred with rage. “You little bitch.”

  “That’s right, Griff. I’m a bitch
. A maniacal bitch, and believe me, I’ll gladly do you harm.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.” He drew one breath, then another. “Do you know what would happen to you if you even tried it?”

  “What? You’d go crying to Daddy? Haven’t you grown up yet?” She curled her lip. “I live in Gillespe now, Griff. Out of your reach.”

  He smiled slowly. “If you believe that, you’re dumber than I thought. You already know that my family has a lot of influence with bank owners.” He gestured at her surrounding land, now lit by outdoor lights. “I can’t believe you got a loan for this dump, but you better believe I know people who can call in the debt.”

  He meant it. She’d hoped that moving so far away would put her out of his reach, that his influence would be contained by distance. Remorse made Sierra queasy; rage made her want to weep. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing either. “You make me want to puke, you’re such a coward.”

  “Sierra?”

  Griff and Sierra both jerked, Griff with a curse, Sierra with new alarm.

  Shielding his eyes from the glaring streetlights, Ben rapidly approached from across the street. Sierra knew she stood more in the shadows than not and she prayed Ben didn’t comprehend the situation.

  Griff turned back to her. “Now who could this be?”

  “Just a neighbor.” She’d answered too quickly, showing her urgency, and Griff gave her a speculative stare.

  Trying to offset her reaction, she lowered the shovel and leaned on it, hoping to look nonchalant. “Why don’t you get out of here now before someone calls the police?”

  “But I want to meet your neighbors, baby. I want to know everything there is to know about this new life of yours.”

  So he could destroy it. “Griff . . .” She was too late. Ben marched toward them, somehow looking twice his size, and twice as threatening despite his normally pleasant manner. Sierra set the shovel aside and tried for a casual pose. She even stepped out into the lighting, so Ben could better see her.

  But he wasn’t looking at her. He stared at Griff.

  Stationing himself in front of Sierra, Ben totally blocked her view of Griff. All she could see was his broad back, taut with anger.

  “Just what the hell is going on?”

  Sierra groaned. Even though she felt certain Ben hadn’t seen their physical conflict, there was still no mistaking the hostility in the air. She felt ready to choke on it. “Ben . . .”

  He reached back, putting his left hand on her waist and keeping her from stepping around him. By attitude and deed, he let Griffin know that they were more than mere acquaintances and Sierra wanted to smack him.

  Unwilling to test Ben at the moment, she stayed behind him, but strained to see past his wide shoulders.

  Griff smiled. “A little family reunion, that’s all.” And because he knew she hated to involve other people in her problems, he looked at Sierra for verification. “Right, baby?”

  Sierra had never seen Ben angry until that moment. Oh, she’d seen him annoyed and peeved and put out. But not true anger, not this volatile rage that radiated off him in waves.

  He took an aggressive step toward Griffin. The two men were of a similar height, but while Griffin looked trim and slim, Ben suddenly bulged with muscles and menace. “Who the fuck are you?”

  Oh no. Sierra touched his arm from behind him. Trying to hide her anger and her worry, she said evenly, “Ben, please don’t do this.”

  Griff laughed when Ben shook her off. “I’m her husband, actually. Has she told you all about me?”

  “She hasn’t had to. Get off her property.”

  Sierra couldn’t decide if she wanted to hug Ben or hit him with the shovel. “Ben, I can handle this myself. And Griffin, please, use what little brain you have to remember that we are divorced.”

  He took his attention off Ben to give her a warning. “You’ve gotten a smart mouth since last I saw you.” His pale eyes glittered, his tone dropped. “We’ll have to do something about that.”

  A rumbling growl erupted from Ben and he moved to strike.

  “Ben, no, damn it.” Sierra wrapped both hands into the back of his shirt and jerked. He kept going, which caused her to slip across the loose gravel, stumble into him and nearly fall. He paused to right her with a curse and she used the opportunity to move around in front of him, clinging to him.

  “Sierra, stop it.” Ben tried to pry her loose, but unlike Griff, he wasn’t willing to hurt her.

  She held on until he stopped, then thumped on his chest with both fists. “No, you stop.”

  He looked at her in startled surprise.

  For good measure, she thumped him one more time. She was near tears, her control fractured, her emotions battered. And for the first time since seeing Griff again, she was very much afraid. “How dare you do this? How dare you—”

  He softened immediately. “Hey, shush. It’s all right, sweetheart.”

  She heard a car door slam and turned to see Griffin had crossed the street and gotten into a sporty Camaro. Relief nearly dropped her to the ground. Thank God, he’d left before Ben could hit him. He didn’t know Ben’s name, didn’t know where he worked. Ben was safe—for now.

  As she slumped into him, Ben caught her upper arms where Griff had held her moments ago, inadvertently making her wince. Luckily, he didn’t notice. “He threatened you, Sierra.”

  Leaning into Ben, not yet ready to face him, she asked, “And you thought I needed you to save me?”

  Sounding confused, Ben nodded. “Yeah.”

  “He’s nobody. Nothing. Forget about him.”

  “Like hell.”

  It wasn’t over yet. She knew Griffin would be back, and then what? She swallowed hard and did her best to straighten, and to push Ben away.

  He surprised her by scooping her up.

  “Ben!”

  His arms held her close to his chest and his face pressed into her throat. “Shhh. Just let me hold you a second.”

  She couldn’t. If he kept this up, she’d be bawling in no time. The aftershocks of seeing Griff, of Ben almost being drawn into her nightmare, took its toll. “Put me down.”

  “Okay, okay.” He set her back on her feet, but his hands touched her everywhere, smoothing her hair, her face, her jaw. “Are you okay?”

  How could he possibly care so much for her? Yet . . . he looked as though he cared. He looked devastated that she might have been in danger.

  Emotions choked her. “I’m fine.”

  A stern frown replaced his concern. “We have to talk.”

  She needed him to go just in case Griff came back around. More than anything she wanted to keep Ben from getting involved. She could deal with Griffin; she always had. But she couldn’t handle seeing Ben hurt. “We’ve talked all week.” She pushed her hair away from her face and saw that her hands were shaking. She put them behind her back. “Really, Ben, I just want to go to bed. I’m tired.”

  He paced away from her, rubbed his face, stared at the moon. Sierra half expected him to start baying at any moment. He stuck his hands in his back pockets. “You won’t give an inch, will you?”

  Sadness, a sense of loss, tightened her throat, but she couldn’t give in. Especially not now. Griffin used every weakness against her, and Ben had definitely become a weakness.

  Mustering up her spirit, she tossed back, “What does that mean? That I won’t let you take over my life? That I won’t play the poor little female who needs the big male to run interference for her?”

  Too late Sierra saw that the rage hadn’t left Ben yet, it had only been banked. He pinned her with a hostile look. “I’m finally starting to figure a few things out.”

  She tossed her head, trying to brazen it out. “Yeah, like what?”

  “Like what a coward you are.”

  She reeled back.

  Ben advanced. “Whatever that bastard did to you, you’re letting it still affect you. It’s easier, safer, to let him win, isn’t it, Sierra?”

 
“I am not a coward.”

  “Right. Well, I know you’re not stupid, which means you have to realize all men aren’t the same. So what else am I supposed to think but that you’re afraid to give me a chance? God knows you want me.”

  Sierra bit her lip, wondering how he could know.

  His gaze tracked over her body with insulting familiarity. “I know women, Sierra, not that you’re hard to read. Hell, I get near you and you tremble. I barely touch you and you start moaning.” His smile was nasty and mean. “Most women make me work a little for it. But not you.”

  Her teeth clicked together so hard, it hurt. In dangerous undertones, she asked, “Are you calling me easy?”

  His eyes nearly black, his cheekbones slashed with color, Ben leaned toward her. Their noses almost touched, and she could feel his breath on her mouth. “Where I’m concerned, yeah!”

  A hot reply boiled up inside her, expanding, choking her, ready to burst free—and a snicker sounded from the darkness.

  As one, Sierra and Ben whirled toward the sound. Sierra didn’t recognize the plump woman with long brown hair or the giant behemoth beside her. But Ben apparently did.

  He snarled in vexation. “Damn it, Noah, what the hell are you doing skulking around in the dark?”

  “Just watching the show.” Noah smiled at Sierra, and she was struck by how much that smile reminded her of Ben’s. “And feeling sorry for my dumb-ass brother who’s burying himself pretty deep.”

  The woman elbowed him hard, then reached out a hand toward Sierra. “Hi. I’m Grace, Ben’s sister-in-law and despite his current behavior, I swear Ben is not a dumb ass. He’s really very, very sweet.”

  Because she didn’t know what else to do, Sierra took Grace’s hand. She was taken totally off guard, her mind a void, her thoughts blank. “Uh . . .”

  “I’m sorry if we’re interrupting. It was such a passionate argument, too.” Grace smiled and released Sierra. “But Ben, people leaving your motel can hear you both. That’s how we knew where to find you.”

  Sierra looked at Ben for help, but he was still rigid with anger and just shrugged.

  Noah turned to his wife. “Why don’t you grab her and I’ll corral Ben and we’ll head inside where we can talk privately?” He stared pointedly at Sierra, his look as commanding as a general’s. “That is, assuming you’ll let us all in?”