But if you let people have access to it now, a good portion of them will use their generators right now, instead of waiting for colder weather. I say wait another month before you sell it, or barter with it. The weather will be colder and they can save firewood by using the generators. Use the stabilizer when you sell the ethanol blend, but keep the pure stuff for yourself.”
“That’s selfish.” She sighed. “And pragmatic. It isn’t just me, I have Carol and Olivia to think about.” Her smile this time was crooked. “This survival-of-the-fittest stuff is challenging.”
It never had been for him, but Sela was made of gentler stuff. He doubted she’d ever been shot at; that made a difference.
“Anyway, I wanted to ask if you knew of a way to pump the gas out of the tanks, without electricity? I intended to check online before . . . well, before . . . but I got busy and never did.”
“A suction pump system will do, like siphoning gas from a car tank. Let me know when you’re ready to let people have the gas, and I’ll get something rigged up.”
“Thanks. I figured you’d know.”
She’d had confidence in him, even though she knew nothing about him, his background, his experience. Just like that, he absorbed a hard punch to the chest, because his squad members had had confidence in him, followed his lead, looked to him to know what to do. For the most part he’d carried out his missions and got his guys back alive, but his unit had absorbed casualties and fatalities like every other unit. The deaths added up, and one day the weights of those deaths had been too heavy for him to carry. All of it had crashed and burned for him, the dumb-ass orders, the incompetence of people in command, the cost paid by his men and others like them.
He wanted to leave. Like the night they’d sat on the steps, he’d suddenly crossed a mental line and needed to get away from everyone, be alone for a while—like a month or so. It was all he could do to remain seated, and only the fact that this was Sela kept him there. Being here was his choice. Talking to her was his choice. He made himself finish the small amount of tea left in his glass, because he didn’t want to offend her by being too abrupt.
“I should get back. I just wanted to make certain someone checked on the Livingstons,” he said as he stood.
She stood, too. “I’ll take care of it. Thanks for letting me know.” She took a step toward the screen door and the movement brought her close to him, so close her arm brushed against his abdomen. She faltered and stopped, as if the contact had rocked her. He looked down at her, noting that the top of her head didn’t quite touch his chin, that her hand shook a little as she reached out to open the door. His wrists were almost twice as thick as hers.
She looked up at him, and her brown eyes were wide, both soft and a little alarmed, as if she sensed what he was thinking.
He was thinking that he’d need to be careful with her, that he wanted to feel her pussy tightening around his dick, and that he wanted to make her scream while she came. He could feel his expression changing, becoming hard and intent, knew he couldn’t hide it from her.
“I need to get away from you,” he said softly. “Right now.”
She didn’t protest as he took the dog’s leash in his grip and went down the steps. He didn’t look back.
Chapter Nine
Sela was trembling as she sat down and watched Ben until he and the young dog were out of sight. She didn’t want to look away from him, to stop seeing those broad shoulders and the line of his back, the easy, fluid rhythm of his long, muscular legs. She wanted to call him back, to have him close enough to once again smell the hot maleness of his skin, to touch him.
Holy shit. She couldn’t say she didn’t have any idea what had almost happened because she did, she wasn’t naive, but she’d never before seen that almost violently hungry expression on a man’s face.
I need to get away from you.
Or . . . what?
He’d have kissed her, and she wasn’t sure they’d have stopped at kissing. She didn’t know if or why she