The Ex-Girlfriends' Club. Rhonda Nelson

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СКАЧАТЬ couldn’t begin to describe what Eden Rutherford had been to him, but anything more than the casual label made his skin feel too tight for his body. Made his palms sweat and his mouth parch. Made him wish that he’d fought for her rather than taking the path he’d chosen.

      You are nothing and will never amount to anything, Giselle Rutherford had told him. Less than the trash your parents were. And I will not permit you to drag my only daughter down with you. You say you love her? She’d sneered as though he were incapable of such an emotion. Prove it. Because every time she sees you, I’m going to punish her. And it will be your fault.

      At eighteen, Bennett hadn’t known what to do, had felt powerless to fight back. And he hadn’t doubted for a minute that her mother would make good on the threat. He’d witnessed too many of her spiteful reprimands, most notably when she’d destroyed a wooden heart he’d carved for Eden. The bitch, Bennett thought now, remembering how devastated Eden had been. He’d known at that point that she’d be better off without him, and though it had almost ruined him, Bennett had caved to Giselle’s threat.

      With no other choice available, he’d broken up with Eden and had given up any pretense of trying to be good enough to make up for his parents’ reputation. He couldn’t be, he’d decided, because his good would never been good enough. Not by Hell’s standards. By the time he and Eden had gotten back together years later—no longer intimidated by her, he would have as soon told Giselle to kiss his ass than look at her—he’d realized that, in taking that path, he’d unwittingly fulfilled her mother’s condescending prophecy. He’d become the very nothing she’d said he would be.

      In what could only be described as divine punishment, he hadn’t made that realization until Eden had told him that she loved him. That’s when he’d left town and made a new life for himself. His insides twisted with bitter humor.

      He had Giselle Rutherford to thank for that, if nothing else.

      Regardless, the mere thought of Eden made his gut clench, his heart ache and his dick invariably stir behind his zipper. Kind but fierce green eyes, a soft, slightly crooked smile that promised as much mischief as pleasure and an easy yard of hair as pale as a moonbeam.

      In a word: gorgeous.

      And if Hell had royalty, she’d be it. She was a true Hellion, Bennett thought, smiling in spite of himself, and the label fit on more than one level.

      The only daughter of the perpetual mayor—which was not unusual in the South—and his ultimate bitch of a wife, Eden had grown up in a relatively loving home. Her father had loved her, at any rate. Her mother didn’t appear capable of loving anything but an appearance and, as such, had made Eden’s life a living hell.

      Despite that, however, she’d been a straight-A student, a cheerleader and choir girl—odd hobbies for a tomboy, but that was Eden—and from the moment she’d shared her apples and cheese with him in the second grade when he’d arrived without a snack, he’d viewed her with equal amounts of suspicion and awe. She was sweet but feisty, with a strong sense of fair play and a penchant for acting first and thinking later. From the time they were small she’d had the unique ability to make him feel like something other than a contaminated outcast. Bennett frowned.

      Years later, of course, things would take a romantic turn and she would make him feel something much more substantial and altogether more frightening, something that would ultimately make him ashamed of himself, would drive him out of town and into his new and improved life.

      And it was new and improved, dammit, if occasionally empty. But better empty than here, Bennett thought, feeling the familiar niggling of inadequacy erode his self-confidence as he drove farther into town. God, he hated it here. Hated how he felt when he came here.

      In Savannah he was Bennett Wilder, sought-after artisan. He’d built furniture for some of Hollywood’s A-list, for pop stars and politicians. He attended all the right parties, could pick and choose his dates—not that he’d bothered much—and enjoyed all the perks of being a local celebrity of sorts. Nobody cared who his parents were or where he came from. It was refreshing, had been like being reborn and coming out right this time. He’d dusted the red dirt off his feet, had made regular monthly visits to his grandfather and had moved on.

      Or as on as he could without Eden in his life.

      Did he want to live in Hell? Be looked down upon once more? Feel the suspicious stares of the local folk? No.

      But that was only the half of it.

      Knowing that he was going to be living in the same town as Eden Rutherford and knowing that she could never be his was infinitely worse—his real hell on earth.

      Bennett had known when he’d walked away the last time that he was permanently severing ties, though at the time he’d never anticipated seeing her again.

      Which, admittedly, made things quite difficult now.

      He couldn’t move back here and not see her. Even keeping the lowest profile possible, Bennett knew he’d inevitably run into her again. And when that happened…well, who knew what would happen? Would she slap him? Certainly possible. Frost him? Another option. The only thing he knew for sure—could count on as well as the sun rising in the morning—was that he’d want her again. Ha! As if he’d ever stopped. He’d want her with the same all-consuming, blinding need that inevitably struck him whenever he saw her. Bennett chuckled darkly. Not wanting her was like commanding his body not to breathe. Likewise, not having Eden was about as successful as him holding his breath indefinitely.

      A moot point.

      Eden had always been his kryptonite, his downfall, his saving grace and his ultimate weakness. For both their sakes, this time he was going to have to be stronger than the attraction, stronger than the emotion that never failed to twine around his heart and make him long for things he knew weren’t in his future. A wife, a family…Nah. He’d let those things go when he’d walked away last time, as well.

      Frankly, being flayed alive and dipped in boiling oil held more appeal than moving back to Hell, but there was simply nothing for it. Bennett might have been an out-of-control teen, might have made multiple stupid youthful mistakes, but he was man enough to repay his debts—and he owed Grady Wilder.

      The old man had been the only constant in his life, the only person who’d stood between him and a foster home when his parents had perished in a house fire. He’d been eleven at the time. Just old enough to understand that their lives didn’t remotely resemble the families on TV, the beginnings of shame rounding his usually bruised, too-thin shoulders.

      Too much to drink, a careless cigarette…a fiery end to their equally combustible lives.

      A mail carrier with a penchant for minding everyone’s business—retired now, of course; a fact that the citizens of Hell no doubt appreciated—Grady had been there. Ornery, obstinate and a bit on the eccentric side, but he’d loved Bennett all the same, and that had made the difference. Just knowing that someone had given a flying damn about him had made living seem as though it wasn’t a complete waste of time. Come on, kid, he’d said. Let’s go home.

      And that had been that.

      He’d moved in, had learned that it was okay to speak even if he hadn’t been spoken to. That spilled milk wasn’t going to land him a backhand across the face and that outgrowing his clothes wasn’t a cause for punishment. He’d learned that a good work ethic and honesty made the backbone of a man—a fact his father had missed though they’d both ultimately been raised by the same man. СКАЧАТЬ