Untried Heart

by Nicky Charles

  He gave a smile. “When I was in college I used to dream of having an art show, but life didn’t work out that way.”

  “You know, I noticed a little place close to my apartment, I think it was called the Maple Leaf Gallery. It’s small but perhaps they might be interested in your work. And, if they aren’t, they might know of someone who would be.” She put down the carving, turned to him and smiled. “Please, let me try. What do you have to lose? The worst that can happen is they’ll say no.”

  As if to reinforce her argument, the lights flickered and then went out.

  “What happened?” She blinked in the gloom.

  Ben scowled. “Either the blizzard has taken out the power or the electricity company has turned off my service.”

  “Are things really that bad?”

  “Yeah,” he sighed heavily, “they’re really that bad.”

  “Well, then you have no choice but to try to sell some of your work. It could prove to be the very source of income you need.”

  Ben agreed, albeit reluctantly and then mumbled about getting candles, a flashlight and starting a fire. Eugenie followed him out of the room while making mental notes on all she’d need to do in order for him to have a proper art show. She didn’t know much about the topic but she was sure the new tablet with its almost magical internet would be able to help her.

  She settled in the living room, her thoughts racing, barely registering Ben hunkering down by the fireplace and setting out candles. When he spoke, she gave a start.

  “We’ll save the flashlight for during the night. Right now, candles and firelight will have to do.” He sank down beside her, his weight causing the cushions to dip so she slid against him.

  “Sorry.” She tried to hitch herself away but Ben slung his arm around her shoulder pulling her closer.

  “It’s okay. Its going to get cold in here tonight. Sharing body heat might be the best way to stay warm.”

  She nodded but found she was holding herself stiff despite the way the warmth of his body burned into her, threatening to melt her insides. Apart from when she’d rescued him in the snow, she’d never been this close to a man before. That time he’d been unconscious. Now, he was very much awake and she had to fight to stay composed.

  The crackling of the fire was the only sound, Ben seeming content to stare at the burning logs, lost in his own thoughts, most likely his financial woes. Eugenie clasped her hands in her lap and watched the shadows cast on the wall by the candles that sat on the tables. To some it might have been romantic, but she had very little experience in that area and it mostly felt uncomfortable. Casual conversation or at least a distraction seemed to be called for.

  “Ben, do you have any parlour games? Tiddlywinks or—”

  “Parlour games?” He slid his gaze towards her and chuckled.

  Darn. Obviously, her terminology was too antiquated – again. She really should have kept more up-to-date. “I mean cards or...er...I’m quite good at making shadow images...” She stuttered to a halt having no idea of the names of any current amusements. And shadow images? She’d done that with her nanny as a child. Why had she brought that up now? Awkward, awkward, awkward.

  “Do you like marshmallows?”

  Ben’s question saved her from further fumbling and she grabbed on to it like a lifeline. “Would you believe I really don’t know? I’ve heard of them, of course, but I’ve never had the opportunity to eat one. My parents were very strict.” She had, indeed, heard of marshmallows. When she was alive they were a real treat and as such not something her parents considered necessary. She’d often wondered what they tasted like.

  “Well it’s time you were introduced.” Ben disappeared into the kitchen. She could hear him rummaging about and then he reappeared with two wire coat hangers and a bag of what she assumed were marshmallows.

  “You open the bag and I’ll make us some skewers.” He began to bend the metal back and forth until it broke in half and then he straightened it. “Here you go. Just stick the marshmallow on the end then hold it over the fire.”

  “Okay.” She took one of the soft, squishy cylinders from the bag and poked it on the end of the stick as Ben instructed. As for putting it over the fire, she frowned.

  “Like this.” He slid off the couch and sat on the floor near the fire. “Hold one end of the wire while the end with the marshmallow is suspended over the flames.”

  She sat on the floor beside him and mimicked his actions, slowly twirling the stick. The marshmallow began to turn a golden brown.

  “The trick is to get it brown on the outside but not black and don’t let it catch fire.” He reached out and pulled her hand back just as her marshmallow caught fire.

  “Oops!”

  He laughed and blew on it. “I’ll eat it. I don’t mind a bit of charcoal. You can have mine.” He handed over his stick. “Don’t pop it in your mouth right away or you’ll get burnt. Blow on it a bit and then give it a test for temperature.”

  Once again, she followed his instructions and, deeming the marshmallow not too hot, took a bite.

  “Mmm.” The crispy outside contained a pool of melted sugary goo.

  “So, what do you think?”

  “It’s good. Sweet and...” she licked her lips, “sticky.”

  “Yep. Want to try another one?”

  “Sure.”

  They spent the next while toasting marshmallows. Ben offered her all sorts of silly bits of advice on the perfect toasting techniques and she laughed at his off-beat sense of humour. Eventually, despite his rather dubious help, she felt she was somewhat of an expert at the art.

  “That was fun.”

  “It was.” His eyes were twinkling, the edge of worry seeming to have disappeared.

  “But I think I’m full.” She smiled over at him.

  “Me, too. I’ll put these back in the kitchen.” He moved to stand up but she caught his arm.

  “Wait, you have a bit of marshmallow on you.” She reached out and unthinkingly brushed at a spot beside his mouth with her thumb, accidentally skimming his lips.

  “Eugenie...” His eyes immediately darkened.

  She froze, her hand still on his face.

  He reached up, touched her hand, pressed a kiss to her palm. The sensation shot up her arm and then down to her core. Her breathing hitched and she really wasn’t sure what she was feeling other than very confused.

  “Ben...” Her mouth felt dry and she poked out the tip of her tongue to wet her lips.

  Ben’s gaze followed the action and then he leaned closer. The air between them grew inexplicably charged and she found herself leaning closer, wanting to again experience the feel of his mouth on hers. When it finally happened, she gasped. His lips were warm, gentle, brushing hers, barely touching before pulling back.

  He looked her in the eye. “May I?”

  She nodded and he kissed her again, this time more forcefully, exploring, tasting. His tongue traced the seam of her lips and she found herself opening to him. His hand cupped her cheek, then slid to cradle the back of her head. Somehow, she was on her back and he was leaning over her, the heat of his body and the nearby fire consuming her. She traced her hands over his biceps and up to his broad shoulders, marvelling at the feel of him.

  His hand was sliding down her body, cupping her breast. Even through the material of her clothes she could feel the warmth, the brush of this thumb over her nipple. She arched her back pushing into his hand, wanting more of the amazing sensation. This was wonderful, incredible. She wanted, needed...

  “Eugenie...” Ben pulled back. His breathing was harsh.

  She tugged at him, trying to draw him close again, kissing his jaw.

  “We shouldn’t. You barely know me.” He shook his head.

  “Ben...”

  He was sitting up. “I didn’t mean to do that.” He scrubbed his hand over his face.

  She mourned the loss of his warmth and weight but the distance was clearing her head, his words finally sinking int
o her brain. What had he said? He didn’t mean... Oh no. Was this like her encounter with Jonathan? Was she reading more into the kisses than was really there?

  “It’s okay.” She sat up and brushed her hair from her face. “I know a kiss doesn’t really mean anything.”

  He stared at her for a moment before slowly nodding. “Right. It didn’t mean anything.”

  She sensed a distinct lack of conviction in his words though.

  Chapter 10

  Ben squinted, wondering why the sun was shining in his eyes. He must have forgotten to draw the blinds before going to bed. Yawning, he began to do his usual morning stretch only to realize two things. There was a woman sleeping on his chest and he wasn’t in his bed.

  A glance down reminded him the woman was Eugenie. They’d ended up spending the night in the living room by the fire since it was the warmest room in the house. Sleeping bags and cushions had formed a makeshift mattress and he’d gathered blankets for them to snuggle under.

  The impromptu sleeping arrangements had proven to be surprisingly comfortable. In fact, he couldn’t recall when he’d slept better. Eugenie seemed to have that effect on him though. When she was around, the situation never seemed as bleak.

  Without thinking, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. She stirred against him and he held his breath, not wanting her to wake up. He was enjoying holding her, feeling her soft, womanly warmth sprawled on him, inhaling her scent with every breath. He’d never felt this way with his ex, not even in the early days. Truth be told, he’d been thinking with his crotch when he’d married Sabrina and, speaking of that part of his anatomy, it was reacting to Eugenie’s presence.

  He eased himself out from under her, leaving her sleeping while he wandered into the kitchen. The cold air was quickly solving the problem of the fit of his pants and he shivered as he found a match and lit the stove, thankful it was gas and not electric. At least he’d be able to make coffee.

  “Ben?” Eugenie wandered into the kitchen just as the water began to boil.

  “‘Morning. I hope I didn’t wake you.

  “No. I needed to use the facilities.” She rubbed her eyes and yawned widely. “It looks like the storm is over.”

  He glanced towards the window. “Yep. Once breakfast is done, I’ll start shovelling the driveway. With any luck by the time I get to the road, a snow plow will have been by and I’ll be able to get you home.”

  She moved to the cupboards and took out two mugs and set them on the table. “I’m in no rush.”

  “Well, that’s a good thing because the driveway is pretty long. It will take a while to get it clear.” He spooned instant coffee crystals into the mugs and then added the hot water. Eugenie, meanwhile, foraged in the fridge, taking out milk as well as eggs, butter and bread, shutting the door quickly to keep the cold in. There was a familiarity to how they seemed to work together. He smiled, liking the feeling of sharing his home with her.

  As soon as breakfast was done he bundled up in heavy winter gear, grabbed a snow shovel and headed outside. Eugenie waved at him from the kitchen window. She’d volunteered to stay in and do the dishes, promising to come and help him as soon as she was done. He’d set out a toque, scarf and mitts, and left instructions for her to rummage through his room to find an extra sweatshirt as well as socks to wear over her own things since her coat and boots were more fashion than function.

  He’d almost shovelled as far as the truck when he heard the backdoor open. Shielding his eyes against the glare of the sun off the snow he looked up to see Eugenie standing on the step. Her appearance had him giving a huff of laughter. Between the scarf and the toque, her head was almost completely covered, only her eyes peeking out.

  “I’m ready to help!” Her words were muffled through the material as she began to climb down the steps, the extra clothing she was wearing making her movements awkward. Almost to the bottom, her foot somehow slipped and, arms flailing, she fell into a snowdrift.

  “Eugenie? Are you okay?” He dropped his shovel and hurried over to find her on her back staring up at him.

  She blinked, moved the scarf from over her mouth and gave a rueful smile. “Yes. Only my pride’s injured.”

  He held out his hand and when she took it, he pulled her up. Having forgotten she was just a mite of a thing, he used more force than needed and she ended up pressed to his chest. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to hold her like that and dip his head down for a quick kiss. When he lifted his head, she looked up at him, eyes wide, the tip of her tongue sneaking out to taste her lips.

  “Thank you.” Her words came out barely above a whisper, the warmth of her breath feathering over his face in stark contrast to the cold winter air around them.

  “No problem.” He held her a moment longer before clearing his throat and letting her go.

  “Do you have a spare shovel?”

  “Yeah.” He blinked trying to focus, fighting the urge to draw her into his arms again. “It’s in the barn. You use this one. I’ll go get the other.” Handing her his shovel, he made his way to the barn, wading through the drifts while Chip frolicked about barking and diving into snowbanks. The crazy animal had always loved the snow.

  He and Eugenie worked together to clear the driveway. Whenever they paused to rest, she’d marvel at the beauty of the snow, pointing out how it adorned the branches of the trees or the way it swirled around the base of the trunks. At one point, he found himself staring at her mitten-covered hand as she exclaimed over the intricacies of snowflakes. It was funny, how he hadn’t noticed the beauty of the weather for years but an hour with Eugenie had him seeing everything with new eyes. Sort of like the carving he’d never been able to get right but once she appeared, his fingers knew exactly what to do.

  “Ben, I need to take a break.” Eugenie was leaning against her shovel, breathing hard.

  “Yeah, me too. Let’s head inside, have a snack and get warmed up.” He propped his shovel against the side of the truck and started to walk back to the house when something suddenly hit him in the back of the head. “Hey!”

  He turned to see Eugenie smiling mischievously and forming another snowball with her hands.

  “Sorry.” She shrugged. “I’ve never thrown a snowball before and didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity.”

  “And you couldn’t throw it at a tree?”

  “A moving target seemed more challenging.”

  “You realize this calls for revenge?” He bent down to gather snow in his hand.

  Her eyes widened as he took aim and lobbed a snowball at her. “Ben!”

  He hadn’t thrown the snow very hard but it still made a satisfying splat against her coat. She narrowed her eyes, tossed her own snowball and the war began. For the next few minutes they threw snowballs at each other, hiding behind trees and using the truck for shelter. Eventually, Eugenie began waving her snow-covered hat back and forth like a flag.

  “I surrender. I surrender.”

  He trudged over and picked her up. She squealed and pushed at his shoulders.

  “What are you doing?”

  “The victor gets the spoils of war.”

  “I’m not a spoil, Ben.”

  “No, there’s definitely nothing spoiled about you.” He loosened his hold and she slid down the front of him. He studied her features, her sparkling eyes, the tendrils of hair that curled about her flushed cheeks, her beckoning lips. “You are perfection.”

  With that, he kissed her, walking her backwards until she was pressed against the truck. He leaned into her, letting her feel his weight as he ravaged her mouth. She responded to him so sweetly, at first tentative, unsure, then with growing boldness. Last night, he’d sensed her inexperience. It was the only reason he’d stopped. It had been ages since he’d been with a woman and his willpower had been sorely tested. Now, his need was getting the better of him. He pushed his leg between her thighs, moving against her. Somehow, he had his gloves off, his hands inside her coat, cupping her breas
ts as she clutched his back, soft sounds of encouragement coming from her throat.

  “Eugenie, I—”

  The blast of a horn had him suddenly pulling back. A snow plow was stopped at the end of his driveway, the operator climbing out of the cab.

  “You folks okay?” The man called out cheerfully, either not knowing or caring what he’d just interrupted.

  “Yeah, we’re fine.” Ben walked towards the man, trying to ignore the fact that his pants definitely felt tighter than they had a few minutes earlier.

  “Power lines are down a few miles back so I’ve been checking on everyone just to be sure.”

  “We have a fireplace, so we survived.”

  “Good to know.” The plow driver glanced the length of the driveway. “Looks like you have a lot of shovelling to do.”

  Ben glanced back at the distance that still had to be cleared and sighed. “A long driveway has its disadvantages.”

  The man rubbed his neck. “We’re only supposed to do the county roads but I can clear this out for you. It will only take a few minutes, just don’t tell my boss.”

  “That would be great. Thanks.” Getting the driveway cleared was worth having that kiss interrupted. Well...he surreptitiously rearranged himself in his pants...almost.

  Eugenie stood on the back step watching Ben talk to the snow plow driver. She tilted her head and squinted. The man looked very familiar.

  Zeke?

  She planted her hands on her hips, wondering what the GA was up to. His timing was horrible, interrupting the kiss she’d been sharing with Ben.

  She licked her lips, still able to taste Ben. It was addictive and she wondered if all kisses were that way or if Ben’s were a cut above the rest. Whatever the case, she knew she wanted to experience it again. And the feel of his body against hers. It had made her weak at the knees. In fact, she’d been thankful for the presence of the truck behind her or she might very well have collapsed in the snow.

  Ben wasn’t indifferent to her either. She might not know a lot about men but she knew enough about anatomy to be well aware of what that bulge in his pants meant. Even through her layers of clothing she’d been able to feel it and when he’d moved his hips against her, well, she’d responded in kind, her body seeming to have a mind of its own.