by Olivia Miles
It was strange to stand outside his own door instead of going inside as Mary turned the lock in her own door. He blinked as she turned on the light, trying to process what he was looking at. Mary’s apartment was in the front of the house, his in the back, but despite the fact they shared a floor of the old house, he may as well have been in another world. Whereas his apartment looked cold and sterile, hers had a cozy, lived-in feeling. The long windows were lined with curtains, the couch was covered with a soft-looking throw blanket and colorful pillows, and she’d painted the walls a soft, creamy shade of blue, instead of the industrial white he’d never bothered to cover up in all this time.
He let out a low whistle. “This is really nice. I can only imagine what you think of my place,” he added ruefully.
Mary gave him a pointed look. “If you saw my ex’s apartment, you wouldn’t feel so bad. He had plastic milk crates for a coffee table. I’m not sure he owned a second pair of sheets for his bed.” She wrinkled her nose, and he laughed, but his curiosity grew along with something else . . . He didn’t like the thought of Mary being with another man, spending time in his home, laughing at his jokes.
He wanted Mary to himself, he realized with a start. More than he had admitted.
“Do you mind me asking what happened?” he asked as he followed Mary into her bright and cheerful kitchen, so much different than his merely functional one.
Mary shrugged as she pulled two wineglasses from the cabinet. “Oh, he had a change of heart, I suppose. Or maybe his heart was never in it at all. I suppose I misread things.”
Ben frowned. He could have said the same thing about himself and Dana. He’d always thought they wanted the same things, but maybe he’d never bothered to ask, or maybe he’d overlooked things from the start, seen what he wanted to see, believed in something that wasn’t there.
He wouldn’t be making that mistake again.
“How long were you together?”
“Not long. But . . .” Mary paused, as if considering how much she wanted to reveal. “It was long enough to think there could be more, you know? Sometimes it’s the loss of hope that hurts the most.”
He nodded silently. That made sense. Too much sense.
“I don’t think about it too much now, though,” Mary said with a small smile. “To be honest, I have bigger worries on my mind.” She handed him a wine glass. “Sorry. I don’t have any champagne flutes.”
He shrugged away her concern and began unpacking the groceries from the bag. “You’re still worried about the business?” he asked.
“It wasn’t doing well when I took it over. I felt so confident I could make it work. I was so sure of myself!” She shook her head. “I guess fresh paint and some new tables don’t make that much of a difference, after all. And I hadn’t expected such a slow winter. At this rate, it won’t last forever, but . . . I don’t think I could bear the thought of it closing down. It would be like an entire chapter of my life, gone.”
Ben felt his jaw tense. “I think I can relate.”
Mary set a hand on his arm. “Oh, Ben, listen to me. Going on and on about an ice cream parlor, when you . . . Well, I’m being silly.”
“Not at all,” he said firmly. “But I know what you mean about starting a new chapter. For a long time, I couldn’t imagine it, it didn’t feel possible.”
“And now?” Her lips curved into a shy smile with just a hint of suggestion, and her eyes sparkled as they locked with his.
“Now I feel like anything is possible,” he said, leaning in to brush her mouth with his. She kissed him back, slowly, softly, as if she were savoring the experience, making it last. He ran his hand through her hair, down the length of her neck, dropping his other arm to her waist to pull her close. Her body felt warm next to his as she reached her arms up around his neck, pressing the length of herself against his chest.
His groin stiffened with need and he pulled back. He wanted to take this slow, not rush through the night.
“I feel like I’m playing hooky,” he admitted, thinking of his daughter at her sleepover party. “I’ve been so worried about Violet. Until lately,” he admitted. He brushed a strand of hair behind Mary’s ear, looking into her eyes. “You’ve made her smile again, Mary. Thank you for that.”
Mary blushed at the compliment. “It’s nothing.”
“No,” he corrected her firmly. “It’s more than you realize. She’s had a rough time lately. Too much change.”
“I care about you, Ben. And about Violet.” Her eyes were soft, searching.
“I know,” Ben said, tearing his gaze from hers. He didn’t want to dwell on hard times tonight. Those dark days were fading behind him.
He reached into the bag, found the bottle of chilled champagne. “Shall we?” Without waiting for an answer, he popped the cork, and Mary burst out laughing at the sound.
“What are we celebrating?” she asked when they’d clinked glasses.
“A new beginning,” he said.
“I like the sound of that,” Mary said, smiling.
***
The pizza was a success, and Ben had even admitted that it was better than the take-out variety he ordered most nights. “We used to do this when I was younger,” Mary explained, as they carried their dishes to the sink. “My grandparents loved interacting with us in the kitchen.”
“So it extended beyond ice cream, then,” Ben said.
Mary nodded. “They must have been tired, looking back on it. My sister and I could be a handful, I’m sure, but they never made us feel unwelcome or that we were a burden. They were just happy to have us. And we were happy to have them,” she added, with a sad smile. “It was the one good thing to come out of a terrible situation.”
“I guess we all make the most with what we’re handed,” Ben said, his brow pinching in thought. “As much as I hate what my ex did to Violet, I’ll admit that I’m happy to have her with me.”
“Silver linings,” Mary mused. They were standing very close, she realized, and neither of them was showing any sign of reaching for that box of chocolates that had looked so delicious just a couple hours ago at the store.
“Are you always this much of an optimist?” Ben asked.
She looked up at him in surprise. “I suppose I used to be . . .” She frowned a little. “Sometimes it’s not so easy to see the bright side, though.”
“I feel like I could learn a thing or two from you,” Ben said. He gave a small shrug. “Maybe I already have.”
Mary watched as Ben set down his glass and brought his arms around her waist, her heart beginning to beat a little faster at the proximity. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you all week,” he murmured, leaning in to brush his mouth to hers.
Mary grinned into the crook of his neck. “I was surprised I didn’t run into you at all.” But then, given her work hours, she wasn’t entirely. She’d been putting in extra time at Sunshine, especially now that she had customers again, but even then, it wouldn’t be enough to offset the slump from the past few months.
She closed her eyes. No point in thinking about that tonight. Tonight she would think about Ben, that slow smile, the musk coming off his warm skin, the way her body tingled when he pulled her a little closer.
“I’m sort of happy we didn’t, actually.” Ben’s voice was low and smooth. “It added to the anticipation.”
She pressed a hand against his chest, feeling the rhythmic beat under her fingertips, the warmth of his skin through his shirt. She looked up into his eyes. His lips were parted as he leaned into her, and she accepted him freely, her mouth opening to his, his kiss slow and deep, full of endless unspoken promises.
His fingers looped under the hem of her shirt, swirling a soft pattern on her skin. She pressed herself closer against him as the heat of his fingers warmed her skin, the sensation of his touch sending bolts of heat through her body, making her ache for more.
Slowly, without a word, they moved down the hall and into the bedroom, Ben’s hands wrapped around her w
aist from behind, his mouth teasing her earlobe, her neck. She turned to face him, and his mouth found hers as he pushed open the door, guiding her back onto her bed. She reached up, running a hand over the spread of his shoulders, reaching lower, up under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin under her fingertips.
Breaking their kiss, he trailed his mouth down her neck, and lower, as his hands slowly pulled her blouse off. She freed his shirt, one button at a time, needing to feel the smooth plane of his chest against her skin. His hands grazed her breasts over the lace of her bra, and she pulled in a sharp breath, her entire body stiffening in anticipation of his touch, and she eased into the pleasure as he slowly unhooked the clasp and teased her with his fingers, and then, his mouth.
She closed her eyes, wanting to savor the sensation, the feel of his body on hers, the rhythm of his heartbeat, the heat of his breath, soft in her ear. She opened herself to him, getting lost in the moment, sensing a change in herself, in him, as his kiss intensified. And for the first time in weeks she didn’t want to worry about tomorrow, or think about the past. All she wanted to experience was tonight.
Chapter Twelve
Mary woke up to a stream of sunlight poking through her curtains and the heavy weight of Ben’s arm reassuringly tight across her waist. She smiled into her pillow and nestled a little closer to his chest. He roused against her, nestling his nose into the nape of her neck, his breath warm on her skin, the gentle rise and fall of his body so close to hers lulling her back into sleepiness.
Slowly, his hand came up around her breast, caressing it slowly as he began trailing soft kisses on her neck, her earlobe . . . She turned to face him and his mouth found hers before she could even say good morning. He tasted familiar and felt so right. Mary pulled him close, savoring the way his skin felt against hers, wishing they could stay like this all day, even though she knew they couldn’t.
She had to go to work today. And Ben was picking up Violet this morning from her sleepover.
Reluctantly, she pulled back from the kiss, and propped herself up on an elbow. “I could stay like this all day,” she said.
Ben reached up and brushed her hair from her face. “Why don’t you come to the zoo with us today? Violet would love to have you there.”
Mary grimaced. “I have to work.”
A shadow fell over Ben’s face. “Of course. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He pushed himself up to a sitting position and reached for his undershirt that had fallen on the floor.
Mary watched with growing dread as he slipped it over his head, covering the smooth plane of his stomach, as if finalizing the end of their time together for the day.
“I could stop by later,” she hedged. “Maybe we could have a late dinner?”
Ben shook his head. “I promised Violet we’d do something special today, and she had her heart set on this diner near the park after the zoo. You can join us there.”
“Except that I probably wouldn’t get there until after eight.” Mary felt the pull of disappointment in her chest. It was the same way she’d felt when Jason had suggested a ski weekend in December and she’d had to say no. There was no one else to handle Sunshine Creamery. If she didn’t show up, it didn’t open. And somehow that didn’t feel fair. To Lila. To her grandparents. Or to herself.
She wanted the family business to be a success. And that meant sacrificing other things.
But that same worried thought nagged her quietly. Was she sacrificing too much? And for what end? If Sunshine Creamery closed down, it would all be for nothing. It was another reason she had to fight to make it work. To make everyone’s input worthwhile.
She eyed Ben nervously as she slipped on jeans and shirt, feeling him slip away, the first prickle of a problem in their new relationship.
“I’m hoping to get some help soon,” she said aloud. It was true, but it was also a pipe dream at the moment. She didn’t even feel optimistic by voicing it. Somehow it just felt more unrealistic than ever.
Who was she kidding? Sunshine Creamery was in the red. It was in the red when her grandfather had died and asked her to keep it going. Last summer had been promising, but a few months of strong activity was hardly enough to sustain a business.
And she would rather go to the zoo today with Ben and Violet. Instead she had to go to work.
“Do you ever take time off?” Ben asked. His tone was conversational, but the mere question put Mary on edge.
“Technically, I can. I mean, I own the place. But . . .” She bit her lip, considering it, just like she’d considered it back when Jason had proposed that weekend trip. Every little bit counted, and that was just the problem. Closing shop for a day meant a loss of sales for that time. And she couldn’t afford to lose any more sales. Just like she couldn’t afford someone to cover the counter once in a while. “I’m not exactly in a position to take a day off at the moment,” she finished.
Ben’s expression seemed to turn to one of concern. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said.
Mary smiled at his kindness. She was getting jumpy, fretting over nothing. Ben wasn’t Jason. Ben understood what Sunshine meant to her, and why. She was just projecting her own insecurities, worrying about things that weren’t even there.
“You didn’t. It’s just hard. The business . . . I didn’t stop to consider what an undertaking it would be.”
“Is it worth it?” Ben asked. “The sacrifice?”
Mary frowned, wondering if he meant the sacrifice of her money, or of her time. “Of course it is,” she said firmly. And it was. It had to be.
She walked to the edge of the bedroom and motioned to the bathroom. “I have a spare toothbrush in there somewhere.”
Ben just shrugged. “I’ll just walk across the hall.”
“Oh. Right. Of course.” It made sense, she told herself. After all, why use her bathroom when his own was a mere doorway away? “I’m sorry I can’t come to the zoo today,” she said, hoping he would sense the regret in her voice.
She blinked out the window. April was just a few days away. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and spring was starting to bloom. She felt a strange sadness, the way she did last year when she’d missed her weekends at the lake, the sand on her toes, a good book on her lap.
“Don’t worry about it,” Ben said, but she detected a change in his demeanor. His jaw seemed squared again, his eyes distant.
“Hey,” she said, coming to slip her arms around his waist. She looked up into his muddy blue eyes. “What about brunch tomorrow? I make a mean stack of pancakes.” She didn’t open until noon on Sundays. Surely he would see that she was trying. That spending time with him was important to her.
His smile returned. “I can’t think of a better way to start my morning. Well, other than this.” He bent down, his mouth fusing with hers for a beat, long enough to send shots of heat down the length of her thighs, tightening in her abdomen. She pressed herself to him, feeling the warm, sleepy heat from his skin, wishing they could just hop back into bed, go for a walk, and have a long, leisurely coffee before she went to work.
But he had Violet to attend to, and children needed time and attention. Two things she wasn’t so sure she was in a position to give, despite her desire to offer both.
She wondered if he sensed that, too.
***
It was a beautiful spring day, and the perfect afternoon for a trip to the Lincoln Park Zoo. Violet held Ben’s hand the entire walk there, skipping alongside him as she recanted the details from last night’s sleepover party, right down to what they ate, what color pajamas everyone wore, and how much more fun it was to sleep in a sleeping bag than a bed.
“I can’t wait to tell Mommy,” she said, when she’d finally taken a breath.
Ben nodded slowly. There was little he could say in response. Technically, Dana had promised to phone at least every Sunday, but given her track record, he didn’t want to remind Violet of this. He wasn’t prepared to set his child up for potential disappointmen
t. All he wanted to do was shield her from it.
They stopped for popcorn as soon as they entered the zoo, and they shared it as they walked along the path, stopping to admire the lion, who Violet was convinced had waved a paw at her. Violet always had the tendency to want to feed the animals, and Ben had to keep stopping her from tossing them a few kernels of the popcorn, ignoring her protests that they would probably enjoy the snack, because who didn’t love popcorn?
In the distance, the Chicago skyline was clear, and all around them were couples pushing baby strollers, parents wrangling toddlers that giggled as they ran, and families out to enjoy the first warm weekend of the year.
Ben felt a weight in his chest as he slid his sunglasses onto his face, the steady reminder of everything he’d always wanted, everything he’d thought he’d had. He pushed the heaviness aside as he saw Violet’s face light up when she spotted the flamingos, dancing around the edge of the lily pond. Their pink feathers never ceased to delight her, but there was something else, Ben noticed, something deeper. She was happy. It had been almost four weeks since Violet had come to stay with him. The change had been so gradual, so slow to evolve that he’d almost stopped believing it would ever happen. But he could see it now, as clear as the sun over their heads. His daughter was smiling in that carefree way children should. The way he’d always wanted her to be.
“What do you say we get some ice cream?” he asked, taking her by the hand after they’d looped through the zoo once.
“It won’t be as good as Mary’s ice cream,” Violet warned.
Ben laughed. “No, it won’t. But I don’t mind this once.”
They selected pre-packaged ice cream bars from the pavilion, and found a table in the sun to enjoy them. “I wish Mary could have come with us,” Violet mused, as she bit into her strawberry-flavored bar.
Ben peeled back the wrapper on his ice cream sandwich, mulling over Violet’s words. It would have been nice to have Mary with them. Very nice. But he couldn’t overlook the fact that he was enjoying a day with Violet, just the two of them. Her bounce had returned to her step, and her eyes shone with delight. This was the kind of day they needed. It was a positive step, and one that gave him hope that things would only continue to get better.