Mari pursed her full, red mouth like she wanted to argue but merely nodded.
A moment later, Ben returned, juggling two cups of steaming coffee, and rubbernecked the room. “Gordon’s gone? That was a quick visit.”
“Mercifully, yes,” Kata murmured.
“Call me later.” Mari gathered her purse. “If I leave Carlos alone too long with the boys, Javi and Robby are likely to tie him up and burn the house down.”
Mari’s husband loved the boys, and sometimes discipline was shoved aside in favor of fun.
“Go,” she urged. “I’ll let you know if there’s any change with Mamá.”
“You need to rest, too.” Mari put on her older sister face. “Think about what I said.”
Kata nodded as Mari exited, her charcoal gray skirt swishing with each efficient step. Exhaustion set in. A million thoughts skimmed the top of Kata’s head, but she was too tired to actually grasp one. She needed a meal and sleep—and to decide what to do about Hunter.
“You all right?” Ben handed her a cup of coffee, then caressed her shoulder with a warm hand. “You want to talk about anything?”
The last person Kata wanted to discuss Hunter with was Ben. Her former friend-with-benefits wasn’t furious that her husband had stolen her—but he wasn’t thrilled, either.
“No, thanks.”
“But something is on your mind. I can see it on your face. Did Gordon say something that upset you? He’s such a prick.”
“I don’t care what Gordon says to me, but the way he treats Mamá is unforgiveable. If it’s the last damn thing I do, I will convince her to leave his sorry ass.”
Ben guided her over to the chair beside her mother’s bed, where tubes stuck out from everywhere and monitors beeped. As soon as her butt hit the ugly mint green vinyl, she focused on her mom.
She drank some of the coffee he’d given her with a sigh. “Thanks—for everything. Smuggling me away from Tyler’s place and watching my back, helping my mother get to the hospital, for not leaving my side since we got here.”
Setting aside his coffee, Ben shook his head and knelt in front of her. “That’s what friends are for. That”—he worked his hand up her thigh—“and other things. Kata, come home with me. You need a shower and sleep and someone to comfort you. I miss you. I don’t know what’s up with you and Hunter. And I don’t care.”
Once upon a time, she would have whispered an easy “yes.” Ben was so familiar and easy to be with. Strong arms; a laugh or two; pleasurable, if predictable, sex. A guaranteed orgasm.
But she wanted nothing to do with his offer now. Kata knew her indefinable feelings for Hunter were to blame. It made no sense. How could she feel this aching attachment to Hunter when he terrified her emotionally?
“Ben—”
Suddenly, a man with dark sunglasses swaggered into the room, exuding menace like an expensive cologne. Inky hair, head-to-toe black, and a mean SOB scowl all screamed, “Don’t f**k with me.”
Was he one of Villarreal’s men? Kata snatched up her phone to dial 911.
“Put it down,” he growled, his hard stare moving to Ben, who cupped her thigh. “Hunter will care very much that you’re propositioning his wife. Get your hand off her. Now.”
Ben scowled but didn’t move. “Who are you?”
“Someone more than happy to f**k up your face. Leave, or one of my buddies will set your truck on fire in the next two minutes if you’re not driving it off the lot.”
Sputtering, Ben jumped to his feet and glared at the stranger, a terrier taking on a pit bull. “Y-you can’t . . . Don’t touch my truck!”
The ominous stranger looked at his watch. “A minute forty-five. You’re wasting time.”
“How do I know you’re not going to hurt Kata?” Ben challenged, shoving her behind him.
Kata loved that Ben was willing to defend her, especially at the risk of losing his beloved truck. But he was going to get his ass kicked . . . or worse. She started dialing the phone.
“Put it down,” the stranger demanded of her, then said softly. “I’m one of Hunter’s friends.”
“Yeah? Me, too.” Ben crossed his arms over his chest.