by Holly Rayner
“I think your cooking beats this place, hands down,” Ben said. He lowered his voice and leaned forward, “Though maybe I shouldn’t say that too loudly. I’ve met the chef here and he’s very temperamental.”
“Oh—an angry chef,” Maia said. “That sounds like someone I’d like to avoid tonight.”
“We’ll do our best,” Ben said. “If I see him coming, I’ll let you know so you can hide.”
Maia giggled. She sipped her drink thoughtfully. “Gosh, I know you said you haven’t dated anyone seriously, but when you do, I think you should take them here. This place is made for romance.”
Her statement seemed to affect Ben, but she couldn’t judge his reaction.
She went on, unable to stop herself. “I mean, the whole place just feels alive with it—you know? All these happy couples around us. You can just feel it in the air.”
“Oh, can you?” Ben asked.
She grinned. “I can. I mean, can’t you?”
“Maybe,” he said.
She arched a brow. “Come on, Mr. Briars. I know you’re not into relationships—at least that’s what you said… but—”
“When did I say that?” he asked with a laugh.
“In your kitchen, last week,” she reminded him. “You said you don’t have guests over. No girlfriends…”
“That’s not what I meant,” he said. “I didn’t mean that I’m not into relationships. I’m just not in one.” He sipped his drink and then spoke before she had a chance, flipping the conversation back to her. “And what about you? You haven’t really spoken about your love life.”
“Hm… that’s because I don’t have one,” Maia said. “That’s sort of what happens when you’re a single mom with a young kid.” She twirled her fork in the pasta in front of her, hooking a few strands.
“Ah,” Ben said. “I see.”
Now she leaned in and spoke in a whisper, as if she was telling Ben a secret. “Honestly, I haven’t even kissed a guy in years.” She sat back and shook her head. “Wow—that sounds pathetic, doesn’t it?”
Ben chuckled. “Not at all,” he said.
Maia popped the bite of pasta into her mouth and savored the heavenly flavors. She was only vaguely aware that she was spilling too many secrets to her boss. The wine, along with their new closeness and the intimacy of their surroundings, made confiding in him feel natural and right.
Because of this, she went on. “I mean, I haven’t been in bed with a guy in ages, and—” She stopped and blushed. Though it felt right to talk with Ben about her dating life, she suddenly wondered if she’d gone too far. She waved a hand. “Never mind. You don’t want to hear about that.”
Ben shook his head. “No, no, it’s fine. It’s nice to talk with you about relationships. The truth is, it’s an area that I need to do some work in.”
“Oh yeah?” she asked. “Why is that?”
“Maybe I’ve struggled with… intimacy… in the past.”
“Maybe?” she pressed.
He lifted his glass. There was a twinkle in his eye as he said, “Okay, definitely.”
“In the past?”
He took a sip of his gin. As he set it down, he said, “Okay, you got me again. Currently, I struggle with it.”
She nodded. “I think I’ve noticed that.”
He waited for her to go on.
She did. “Out there on the front steps, I sort of wore my heart on my sleeve. You didn’t exactly reciprocate.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“So what is it about?” she asked. “What’s the deal?” If she was going to finally find out what Ben’s aversion to relationships was all about, now was the time. The next day, she knew, her stay with him would be over. Our newfound friendship might be over, too, she thought. I’d better get the scoop now.
“I don’t know where to start,” Ben said. “I’ve never tried to explain this to anyone. I’ve never had to; no one’s given me the third degree about it.” His tone was teasing.
Maia grinned. “Well, let the interrogation begin.”
He chuckled.
She let silence linger over the table as she sipped her wine. She was eager to know more about Ben’s inner workings, but she didn’t want him to feel pressured.
He seemed to think for a few minutes, as he finished a bite of sauce-covered rigatoni.
When he spoke, his tone was sincere. “I’m not used to this,” he said, motioning to the space between them.
She wasn’t sure what he was getting at, so she waited for him to go on.
“Talking honestly like this, without holding back,” he said, “Without having my guard up. It doesn’t come easily to me.”
His features seemed to soften as he spoke, as if some of the edginess in him was melting away. He took a deep breath.
Maia sensed that he really was having a hard time with the turn their conversation had taken. She felt proud of him, somehow, that he was willing to step into territory that was clearly so uncomfortable for him.
“It’s not how I was raised,” he went on. “My mom left my family when I was very young. My dad raised me and my brother, Nate, all on his own—and he wasn’t very interested in being a father figure. He did it because he had to.”
Maia felt as though pieces of the puzzle that was Benjamin Briars were beginning to fall into place: the way he always stayed so distant and detached at work, his bachelor lifestyle, his constant use of earbuds to block out the world.
“Must have been rough on you guys,” Maia said, “to be all on your own with your dad. I’m sure it was hard on your dad, too.”
“If it was, he didn’t talk about it,” Ben said. “He didn’t talk about his feelings—ever.”
Now I see where you get it, Maia thought.
“That’s the way it was in our house. Dad set the standards, and Nate and I did our best to meet them. If we didn’t, we paid for it. Our house was a cold, harsh place.” Ben had a faraway look in his eyes, as if he was remembering a different time.
“I couldn’t wait to get out of there,” he went on. “The minute I turned eighteen, I bolted. Nate did the same. Dad passed away years ago, but my brother and I are still living with him in our lives, if that makes any sense.”
Maia nodded. “Sure. His memory.”
“He raised us,” Ben said, with a subtle shrug. “The man did his best. I can’t fault him for that. At least he provided a roof over our heads.” He fell silent for a minute and looked down at his plate. When he looked up at Maia, he spoke. “What I said the other day about your daughter being lucky—I hope you know that I meant that. You shower that girl with love, and that’s what children need. They need loving parents.”
Maia nodded. She knew Ben spoke the truth.
She understood on a new level why he lived the way he did. She recalled the question her daughter had asked, two weeks before, when they’d first gone to meet Ben and Colby at the restaurant. “Why isn’t Mr. Briars married?”
Now, she felt that she knew.
He’s never been loved, she thought. Not really.
Maybe that’s why he doesn’t know how to express love, either.
His bachelor lifestyle—that five-story house, all to himself—made complete sense.
No wonder he doesn’t have a family, she thought. He’s afraid.
“One thing I’ve learned,” Maia said gently, as she looked down to her napkin, “is that love is a pretty mysterious thing.”
She lifted the napkin, placed it on her lap, and smoothed it down over the fabric of her dress. It was a habit that she had from her younger years, when her parents back in Iowa used to tell the children to place their cloth napkins on their laps.
She was aware that Ben was watching her, waiting for more. For Ben, love is a mystery, she realized. Something other people enjoy. A foreign feeling—he thinks he’ll never have it for himself.
As she went on, she did not look at him. “We grow up learning the laws of the world. The laws of science. Hard, cold
facts. But love doesn’t work like that.”
She sensed that she had her boss’s attention.
She continued. “It seems to be a scientific law that when you give something away, you have less of it. That’s how giving and receiving works, right? I give something to you, and you take it. Now you have it, and I don’t.”
She glanced up at Ben, and he nodded.
“But that’s not how love works,” she said.
“How does it work, then?” he asked.
“When you give it, you have more of it,” she said. “It’s strange, but true. I learned it when Joy was just a baby. The more I loved her, the more love I had. Do you see what I’m saying?”
“I do…” he said, his tone gruff. He lifted his glass and took a sip. He seemed to be pondering the statement she’d just made, wondering if it was really true.
“It’s kind of magical, in that way,” Maia said. “And another thing about it is that by giving love, you prove to yourself that it’s inside of you. You had it in you all along. Some mystics say that we’re all made of love.”
Ben scoffed. “Now you’re losing me,” he said.
Maia sensed that he understood her words better than he was letting on.
“You can be skeptical, but I think it’s true,” she said. “And you know what else? I’ve seen you change over the past two weeks, Ben. Maybe it’s not my place to say this to you, but—”
“Maia,” he interjected. “At this point, you know me better than many other people.”
She nodded. “Good. Then maybe it is my place to say this. Ben, you’ve changed. I’ve seen you go from being protective of your own space and time and holding others at bay, to being generous, open, and engaging. You opened your home to me, Joy, and Colby. You played with the kids and laughed with me. You loosened up and had fun.”
He smiled. “I did.”
“You’re going to make some woman very happy,” Maia told him. “And if you ever decide to have children, I think you’re going to be an amazing dad.”
“You really think so?” he asked. “Hm… wow. I’ve never thought that.”
“It’s true,” she said. She grinned at him. “And like you, I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t the truth.”
It felt fitting to mirror his words back to him. He’d told her a week before that he would only say something if it was true, and she wanted him to know that the feeling was mutual. She wasn’t trying to merely flatter him with compliments; she was being honest.
“Well, I guess even an old dog can learn new tricks,” Ben said with a humble smile.
“Ha!” she said. “As if you’re old. What are you… thirty-six?”
“Forty,” he said. “Old enough to be set in my ways.”
“Hardly,” she teased. “You’re just a young man.”
“Older than you,” he countered.
“Oh, right,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “At thirty-five, I’m a spring chicken, learning something new every day.”
“Like a young sapling,” Ben said, playing along, “bending with the breeze.”
“That’s me,” Maia said with a nod. “Highly flexible.”
The conversation turned toward lighter topics as they each finished off their respective dishes. When the server cleared their plates and offered a dessert menu, Ben waved it off. It was clear that he knew the menu well as he rattled off two sweet dishes to complete the meal, along with espressos.
Maia was impressed when the beautifully displayed cake and tiramisu arrived. She dipped a spoon into each, with Ben’s encouragement, and savored the flavors that melted on her tongue.
After Ben paid the bill, he guided Maia out of the restaurant. She wore her sweater loosely over her shoulders, but when she stepped out into the night air, a chill swept through her.
With a shiver, she moved to thread her arms through the sweater’s sleeves. Ben had decided to call for a ride, seeing as he’d had a few drinks. As he finished ordering the service, he turned his attention to Maia.
“Cold?” he asked, while stepping toward her. His arm wrapped around her shoulder, and he rubbed her upper arm. Then, unexpectedly, he leaned over and placed a light kiss on her temple.
Maia froze, wondering what had just happened. Did Ben just kiss me?
His hand continued to rub her arm, and the gesture provided warmth. She couldn’t help but nestle into him, closer to the heat of his body.
It felt so right to stand there, so close to him. Her mind kept ringing with the memory of the quick kiss he’d just laid on her temple.
Yes, she thought. He kissed me. Why? What does it mean?
The city lights around her twinkled in gold and silver hues. Her body thrummed with the pleasure of standing so close to Ben.
Will he kiss me again? she wondered.
His hand stilled, and she turned to look up at him. Just as she did this, he looked down. He moved almost imperceptibly toward her. She knew, just with that slight movement, that they would kiss again.
A timeless stillness seemed to wrap around them. Maia forgot all about her chill. Her whole body felt warm. The colors and noise of the city faded into the background.
“Ben?” she whispered. “You know how we said this wasn’t a date?”
“Mm...” he said, his voice a deep rumble that reverberated through her. “I think that was a mistake. Maybe it is a date.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “Maybe it is.”
Then she closed her eyes and tilted her face toward his.
When his lips landed on hers, heat flooded her body. Leaning into him, she felt just like the sapling that he’d mentioned earlier. Her whole body swayed in his direction, as if he was the sun, and she yearned for heat.
His mouth moved hungrily against hers. Emotions swirled through her, as if all that she’d been holding back for the past two weeks—or perhaps longer—was now free to surface.
A desperate need to be closer to him filled her. She wrapped her arms up, around him, and let her fingers run through the dark blond curls at the nape of his neck. He groaned, expressing the same deep, primal desire that she felt.
They were still kissing when the car arrived. Maia was only vaguely aware that Ben was guiding her along the sidewalk, toward the vehicle.
As they tumbled inside, into the back seat, their lips parted for just a moment. Maia felt as though her oxygen supply had been ripped away from her. When their lips touched once again, and she again felt the warmth of Ben’s body pressed against hers, relief cascaded through her.
I need him, she thought. I need this.
His hands explored her body, and she drank in the kisses he offered. Time slipped past. When Ben pulled away from her, she felt a moan escape her lips.
“Don’t stop kissing me,” she begged, only barely aware of what she was saying.
“Baby, we’re home,” Ben said in a husky tone.
She was breathless as she looked out the window and saw that they were in front of Ben’s townhouse. The lights were out; it seemed they’d arrived home before Caroline and the children.
Ben hastily paid the driver. He took Maia’s hand and led her up the front steps. With a quick gesture, he unlocked the door.
The interior of his home was warm and inviting. Maia giggled as he held her hand tight and led the way toward the kitchen. The house was empty. He guided her up the stairs, toward his bedroom.
Once the master bedroom door was closed, Ben wasted no time in stripping Maia’s sweater off of her shoulders. She delighted in the way his lips felt as he kissed the line of her collarbone and then each shoulder, one by one.
“Mm,” he practically growled. “I’ve been wanting to do this for so long…”
A shiver of pleasure passed over her as he said this. It was incredibly gratifying to know that he had experienced a longing to touch her, just as much as she’d longed for him.
“Oh, Ben,” she sighed, as he slipped the straps of her dress down over her arms. She could barely think straight.
Her finger moved to his belt buckle and worked to unfasten it. As they fell, barely dressed, onto his bed, an all-consuming blissfulness filled her body. Her rational mind turned off, and she let her need for him take over completely.
Chapter 13
Ben
“Colby, take those boots off!”
The sound of a voice coming from downstairs made Ben freeze. He was kissing Maia in the way that he’d always wanted to kiss her. They’d just made love, and her body was pressed against his, as if she wanted more.
The truth was, he wanted more, too.
He didn’t want to stop kissing or touching the gorgeous woman beside him, but the sound of Colby’s voice as he called out, “Joy, gotta take ya boots off!” caused him and Maia to pull apart.
“Did you hear that?” Maia asked breathlessly, as she sat up. She turned this way and that, as if looking for her clothing. When she spotted her bra, she pulled it toward her. “Was that the kids and Caroline?”
“The movie must be over,” Ben said, as he sat up, too.
No, no, no, he thought.
He didn’t want to get out of bed. He didn’t want his evening with Maia to come to an end.
It seemed as though time had sped up ever since he and Maia first kissed while waiting for the car service. The blissful car ride home and the activities that followed had all been somewhat of a blur. He’d been so lost in sensory pleasures that he’d not been thinking straight.
Now, as he tuned his ears to the faint pitter-patter of feet on the first floor, below, reality came rushing back.
Maia and I slept together, he thought, as he felt the bed beneath him shift. He glanced over and saw that Maia was now standing, pulling her red dress up over her hips.
A puff of air hit his face as she tossed his button-up shirt onto the bed. It landed right in front of him. He reached for it as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.
Ziiipp. Maia pulled up the short zipper on the back of her dress. Ben recalled how exciting it had felt to pull that very zipper down, down, down, just a short while ago.