by Olivia Miles
Ben closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face. “I wasn’t even thinking.” He pulled in a breath and blew it out slowly. “Up until recently she lived with her mother. I guess you could say I got used to be being a bachelor again,” he admitted sheepishly.
Mary hesitated, and then decided to go for it. “I wouldn’t mind watching her tonight.”
Ben frowned. “Oh, no, I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“Impose? You’re the one doing me the favor, remember?”
He considered this. “If you’re sure . . . She likes you. I think she’d really like that.”
“She’s a sweet girl, Ben. I’m looking forward to it, really.” Mary set a hand on his arm; it felt warm and thick under her fingers. She wondered if he would pull it back, stiffen, but something about it felt right, like they’d just made another baby step toward . . . something.
***
Ben could hear the sound of giggling through the door before he’d even set his foot on the carpeted landing that separated his apartment from Mary’s. He paused, wrapping his hand around the key in his pocket, enjoying the sweet sound, almost not daring to move. Things with Violet were still fragile. More than he wanted them to be. More than he could bear.
But something had shifted, giving him a hope that the dark times might be sliding behind him at long last, that tomorrow might be a little brighter than today.
Grinning at another peal of muffled laughter he recognized as Violet’s, Ben turned the lock and opened the door a crack, poking his head around to see his daughter dancing around the room in one of her sparkly tutus, waving a wand at Mary, who also seemed to be covered in some sort of glittering pink material. “Hello!” he called out, wondering where he fit into all the fun, and hating the thought of interrupting it.
Mary turned, and blushed when she caught his eye. Slowly, she unraveled her legs and stood, revealing a hilariously small tutu that jutted out from her hips. Ben dropped his gaze a little farther, taking in the long sweep of her thighs that were covered in tight black leggings, and swallowed hard.
“Cute skirt.” Ben grinned.
“Violet insisted,” Mary said, her cheeks flushing deeper with her defense as she swept her hands over the sparkling netted material.
Ben met her gaze. “I’m not complaining.”
Mary’s cheeks grew a notch pinker. She adjusted the tiara on her head and motioned to the coffee table, which was covered in pink and purple plastic dishes. “We were just finishing up our tea party, unless you’d care to join us?”
“I’d love to, but I think it’s someone’s bedtime,” Ben said, giving Violet a knowing look.
Violet groaned. “But we were playing princess!”
Ben started to open up his mouth, but Mary held up hand, silencing him. She bent down until she was eye to eye with Violet, taking the little girl’s hands. “But you know what they say about princesses, don’t you?” She made a big show of leaning in to stage whisper in Violet’s ear: “They need their beauty sleep.”
Violet giggled, but she still didn’t look convinced. “I was having fun,” she said, starting to pout.
“So was I, and that just means we’ll have to do it again sometime. I’m right across the hall.” Mary pointed to the front door of the apartment, and Violet followed her movement, mollified.
Ben felt the first prickle of panic, tensing at the transition that was happening, the attachment that Violet was forming to Mary, but then he saw how quickly her mood was turned around, the smile that lit up her face, and he felt something in him soften.
“Can Mary tuck me in?” Violet asked.
Ben eyed the firm clasp his daughter had of Mary’s hand and met her eyes, hoping she sensed the apology in his expression. “If she doesn’t mind.”
“I can think of nothing better!” Mary beamed, and let Violet pull her into the hallway by the hand. She looked back over her shoulder just before they disappeared into Violet’s purple and pink bedroom, to flash Ben a smile.
His pulse hitched and something in his gut stirred. It was just a smile, he told himself firmly. But, oh, it was a pretty one. One he wouldn’t mind seeing again. And soon.
He tidied up Violet’s toys while Mary went through the bedtime routine of helping Violet to brush her teeth and pick out a stuffed animal to sleep with. He waved a critical eye over the room as Mary came back through the hall. Despite his efforts, it still looked like a bachelor pad. He knew it. He was sure Mary knew. And he had the sinking sensation that Violet knew it too.
Mary’s eyes were bright, but she looked a bit tired as she came down the hall.
“I’m happy to report that you are not in any danger of that pipe bursting,” he said.
Mary visibly relaxed. “I can’t thank you enough.”
Ben held up a hand. “No thanks needed. You gave my daughter a wonderful birthday party last weekend. It’s the least I can do.”
Mary hesitated, and then nodded once. “Well. It’s late. I should let you get some rest.”
Ben stiffened, not ready for her to leave just yet, even though he knew he should agree, bid her good night, pour a beer, and turn on the television. This was his routine. But she was shaking it up, challenging him.
“You could stay,” he blurted. He cleared his throat. “I mean, there’s no need to rush off. Maybe . . . Would you like something to drink?”
Wow. It had been even longer than he’d realized since he’d been in the dating scene. Had it always been this hard to extend an invitation to a woman?
He stopped himself right there. This wasn’t a date. It was just a drink with a neighbor.
He looked at Mary. She looked just as panicked as he felt and his heart began to drum as he waited for her response, his rational side silently pleading with her to make up a polite excuse, turn him down gently, let him be on his way, but the other part of him was almost hoping she’d say yes, that he wouldn’t have to spend another night alone.
He thought of his sister, grinning wryly. If she could see him now.
“Oh. Um.” Mary bit her lip, her eyes shifting to the left.
A strange twinge of disappointment settled squarely in his chest, but he backed up, thrusting his hands in his pockets. He hadn’t been exactly welcoming until now. Emma’s words of warning began to sound loud and clear. There was a consequence to every action—and inaction—in life, and this was one of them.
“I guess that might be nice,” she finished, her lips pulling into a shy smile as she met his gaze.
He stared at her for a moment, sensing the shift. Things were changing. Things were different. And he’d almost dare to say, they were better. “Beer or wine?”
“Wine would be perfect.”
“I hope Violet wasn’t too much trouble,” Ben said, as he walked over to the kitchen. “She’s been going through some stuff. It hasn’t been an easy time for her lately.”
“She’s really adorable, Ben,” Mary said, leaning onto the counter.
Ben uncorked a bottle of red wine and took two glasses down from the cabinet. It occurred to him that it was the first time he’d had proper company in all the time since he’d moved in. He’d gotten used to being on his own.
It may have been comfortable, but it wasn’t healthy. And he hadn’t been happy, he knew. Just like he knew that he hadn’t smiled as much in two years as he had since he’d gotten to know Mary.
“Do you mind me asking . . .” She hesitated, fingered the stem of her wine glass as he filled it.
“Violet’s mother?” Ben cocked an eyebrow, and Mary gave a small smile. “It’s okay. She’s in London, actually.”
“Oh, on a business trip?” Mary took a sip of her wine and leaned into the breakfast bar.
Ben considered the question. “You could say that. Except that it doesn’t have an end date.” He shook his head, feeling the anger course through his blood when he thought of Violet’s small voice every time she talked to Dana on the phone, always telling her how much she missed her, always a
sking when she’d come home. “Dana has always traveled a lot for work. She was gone for six months when Violet was a year old. You’d think we’d be used to it by now,” he said bitterly.
“That must be hard on Violet,” Mary said, frowning.
The compassion in her eyes made his chest swell. “Very. She keeps asking when she’ll come back. You should see the way she lights up when Dana calls. For her sake, I do hope that Dana comes back soon, but only if she’d be willing to commit this time. Though, I have to say that I’m happy to have her here with me.” For many reasons, he thought to himself. “After the divorce, I only got her a handful of nights a week. It wasn’t easy.” Now . . . now that would change. Violet needed a secure routine. He was willing to provide that.
“I’m surprised I never noticed Violet in the building before,” Mary said, following him into the living room. She dropped onto the couch easily, and eyed him with growing curiosity as he hovered at the edge and finally took the seat next to her. “But then, I only just moved in and I guess my hours can be a little strange. Even though it’s slow this time of year, I feel like I’ve been at the shop more than ever these past few months.” She chewed her lip pensively.
“That shop means a lot to you,” he observed.
“It’s my family’s business. It’s all I have left of my grandparents. I’m afraid I’m in a little over my head, though.” She gave him a wry smile. “It’s why I was crying that night.”
“Are things really that bad?” He frowned and thought about how empty the place was every time he’d stopped by. He supposed things could be worse than he’d considered.
“Let’s just say that I’m living on hope and denial, and I’m running out of both quickly.” Mary shook her head. “Sunshine Creamery was already in a bad place when I took over. Maybe there just isn’t a market for it.”
Ben thought about Sullivan Construction. If the situation were reversed, he knew he’d be fighting like hell to keep it going.
“Have you ever thought about trying something new, branching out? Selling more than ice cream, maybe mixing things up a bit?”
Mary frowned. “Oh, no. That place has so much history. I freshened up the décor and added new flavors, but I want to keep it authentic.”
Ben nodded. “I won’t argue. Not if you feel strongly about it.”
“Not everyone gets that,” Mary said, glancing at him. “I was dating this guy . . . and, let’s just say he couldn’t understand why I poured so much into the place. Lately, I’ve been wondering if he was right.”
“If something is important to you, then you have to try and fight for it,” Ben said. “That’s how I felt with my ex. It wasn’t working. It hadn’t in a long time, but it meant something to me. It was . . . important.”
Mary tipped her head. “She lost a good guy.”
Ben’s breath stilled as he stared into Mary’s eyes, his chest growing tight. Her lips were full, rosy and pink, and parted ever so softly into a smile. He swallowed hard, fighting the urge to lean in, to run his hand over her waist, to feel her curves under the soft material of her sweater, to taste those lips, feel her heart.
Her lashes fluttered in surprise as he edged toward her, his heart pounding as the distance between them grew shorter. Jolting, he pulled back, reached up and plucked the tiara off Mary’s head, and handed it over to her to her, joking, “I could have let you wear that thing all night, but I don’t that that would have been very fair of me.”
“I didn’t even know Violet had slipped that on my head.” Mary patted her hair, laughing nervously. Ben reached for his wine, pulling back against the couch cushion, waiting for his pulse to settle.
Mary took the last sip of her wine and set the glass on the coffee table amongst the plastic tea set that Ben would probably pick up in the morning. “I should really get some beauty sleep myself,” she joked, and Ben smiled, half relieved, half disappointed. His heart felt as heavy as his gut, and he knew he should be thankful for the near miss, but a strange part of him wasn’t.
He’d almost kissed her, damn it. And if the opportunity arose again, he wasn’t so sure he’d be able to resist next time.
Chapter Nine
Mary’s eyes sprung open at the unfamiliar sound coming from somewhere behind her curtains. She blinked, straining to listen again, to see if it had been part of a dream, but no, there it was. The unmistakable, joyous sound of a bird. A bird chirping outside her bedroom window.
Her heart soaring, Mary tossed back the duvet and sprung out of bed, just in time to pull back the curtains and see the little grey creature fly to the branch of a nearby tree. She stifled a squeal of joy with her fist and then burst into the living room for a better view out her front bay window. The snow had all but melted by now, and the trees were dotted with bright, new leaves.
This called for celebration.
She showered and dressed quickly but took her time walking down to Armitage Avenue, where she intended to stop for a leisurely coffee and some good conversation with Hailey. While it was still a bit chilly, the sun was warm on her skin, and that little bubble of hope was resurfacing. Things were on the up and up. That long, dark, lonely winter was finally behind her.
Mary spotted Hailey through the glass door, and happily let another couple exit before passing through. “Good morning!” she exclaimed.
“It sure seems that way,” Hailey said. She glanced at her with suspicion. “Someone’s cheerful this morning.”
“Oh, well, the sun’s out. Tomorrow’s the first official day of spring. Who couldn’t be happy about that?” Mary took her favorite seat near the espresso machine, happy to see that for a Saturday morning the café wasn’t too crowded. Yet. Unlike Sunshine Creamery, Corner Beanery never struggled with a steady flow of traffic, regardless of the season.
“You sure that’s all it is?” Hailey lifted an eyebrow suggestively.
“Of course,” Mary said crossly. “The sun is out. That’s good for my business.” That was surely enough to warrant a good mood, even if she wasn’t so sure that was the only thing lifting her spirits this morning.
Thursday night had been . . . unexpected. And enjoyable. Not just because of her time with Violet, but because of the look in Ben’s eyes when he’d first poked his head around the door and come home.
“If you say so,” Hailey shrugged. “It’s just that from the way you burst in here, I sort of thought maybe you’d met someone.”
Mary’s heart skipped a beat. “Met someone? Ha. Good one.” Her voice felt strained and pitched and now Hailey was frowning with obvious doubt. “I mean, I would have told you if I’d met someone. Can’t a girl be happy about something other than a man once in a while?”
“Absolutely,” Hailey said firmly, and Mary suddenly wished she could feel as convinced as her friend. Instead, needles of doubt prickled the back of her mind, stirring up all those warm and fuzzy feelings that had percolated all day yesterday.
She couldn’t stop replaying the moment when Ben had leaned in and taken the tiara from her head. She told herself it was nothing more than that, that she was misreading the situation, that God knew she had done that many times before, like when Jason said that instead of going out for New Year’s Eve maybe they should stay in. She’d thought he meant stay in and have a cozy night on the couch, just the two of them. She didn’t realize he meant stay in, and possibly, by themselves. Separately. Alone. But no, no, she wasn’t misreading things with Ben. She’d seen the hooded look in his eyes, the way his mouth parted as his gaze drifted to her lips. And it was like every single nerve ending was on fire, and her mind was spinning and she wasn’t even sure what she wanted anymore, or what she should do.
But she wasn’t thinking about the kiss now. She hadn’t thought about that in at least ten minutes, not since she’d turned onto Halsted Street and seen that attractive married couple holding hands.
The kiss that never happened wasn’t what she was so happy about. Of course it wasn’t. It was the sunshine. The warm
th. The relief that she’d gotten those pipes fixed. That soon all her troubles should be behind her. For a little while at least. She still had next winter to get through. Another long, harsh season with next to no income.
She frowned. She’d worry about that another day. No sense in getting ahead of herself.
“Oh no. I’ve ruined your mood.” Hailey shook her head and reached into the glass case. “Here. A blueberry scone on the house. I insist.”
Mary wasn’t one to pass up an offer that good. “You know how much I love those blueberry scones.”
“I do. And you know how much I love your blueberry pie ice cream.”
Mary ordered a vanilla latte, her favorite, and broke off a corner of the scone. She hadn’t seen Ben around the building since the other night, but chances were higher they’d bump into each other over the weekend. She pressed a hand to her stomach, pushing back the sudden burst of nerves. He’s just your neighbor, she chastised herself. Only he was starting to feel like so much more than that.
“How are things going with your cousin?” she asked, hoping that by keeping the topic of conversation off herself, she’d stop thinking about things she shouldn’t.
Her busy season was kicking off soon, after all. She needed to keep her priorities in order if she had any hope of keeping that business from going under. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking of dating or romance.
And there was no way Ben was thinking of those things either.
Unless . . . was he? She closed her eyes, picturing his mouth so close to hers. Her pulse kicked.
“Claire seems okay.” Hailey glanced over her shoulder into the back kitchen. “Between you and me, I’m a little worried about her. I don’t think she’s over her ex yet.”
Mary took a sip of her coffee. “It takes time.”
“Yes, it does, but it’s hard to see her so down when the guy didn’t deserve her at all.” Hailey shook her head. “Why do women waste their time on men like this? You know the kind: emotionally unavailable, moody, hot one minute, cold the next? Hearing stuff like this, it makes me happy I’m single. Makes me remember why I’m single,” she laughed bitterly.