by Sandy James
“I didn’t hook up with anyone.” Scooping another forkful of lettuce into her mouth, Mallory glared at Jules.
“Don’t look at me—I didn’t tell her,” Juliana insisted after swallowing the last of her sandwich.
“Heard it from Robert,” Danielle explained. “Said the guy was a friend of his who went there looking for you.”
“For the love of… I didn’t hook up with Ben!”
“Ben?” Bethany tilted her head. “You mean your carpenter?”
“My contractor.”
“You hooked up with him?” Beth wolf-whistled. “When you let loose, you really let loose.”
“She didn’t hook up with him,” Juliana said.
“There! I told you so,” Mallory said with a nod. “Thanks, Jules.”
“No hookup ’cause he scared her away.”
“Juliana!” Mallory had thought about calling her to tell her about the kiss she’d shared with Ben. They’d exchanged some texts because she’d been worried about Mallory’s abrupt departure, but Mallory hadn’t been ready to talk about everything that happened after the mixer.
“He didn’t scare me away,” she insisted. “I was just feeling a little… tired.”
“You ran away like a frightened rabbit because he pushed too hard,” Juliana retorted. She studied Mallory for a moment. “What did he do to you?”
“Nothing. I mean… not really.” Mallory knew that answer would not suffice, so she caved. “We kissed.”
“He kissed you?” Juliana’s surprised tone grew loud. “Way to go, Mal!”
A sly smile spread over Danielle’s face. “You liked him kissing you.”
“I suppose I did.”
“Good for you,” Bethany said. “Maybe you’ve finally turned a corner.”
With a shake of her head, Mallory said, “You’re all making too much out of it.”
Juliana snorted. “Then why are you blushing?”
“Is he a good kisser?” Danielle leaned in. “Details. We need details, woman.”
“Details?” Mallory feigned confusion.
“Come off it,” Danielle said, popping open her fruit cup. “You know the routine. What’s the number?”
While she’d always enjoyed listening to her friends talk about their latest dates—especially enjoying their rate-his-kiss-on-a-one-to-ten-scale ritual—Mallory hesitated. The kiss had been more than a simple kiss. In those few moments in Ben’s arms, while her senses were filled with him, something inside her had come back to life… something that she feared was dead and gone when Jay left.
Ben had made her want him. He’d made her heart pound, her head spin, and her body flood with heat. Once she’d gotten home, she’d savored the excitement he’d inspired and settled down to reread her favorite romance novel. Her sex drive had been abruptly reawakened. She wanted to drown in those wonderful feelings she’d feared had disappeared forever.
“Earth to Mal,” Juliana said.
“Sorry. Lost in thought.”
“That good, huh?” She winked at Mallory. “A ten?”
A twenty. “A solid nine.”
Juliana snorted again. “So did he call?”
“Why would he?” Mallory asked. “I’ll see him when I get home tonight.”
“You were necking with the guy in the parking lot of—”
Mallory cut Juliana off. “I wasn’t necking with him. We kissed. That’s all.”
“A solid nine,” Danielle repeated with a chuckle.
Bethany pitched in her two cents. “I think Jules is right—he should have called.”
They were right. He should have called. After a kiss like that…
Now she was being stupid. Just because he’d made her toes curl didn’t mean she’d had the same effect on him.
* * *
Mallory set her grocery bags down on the table. “Ben? You’re here?”
She hadn’t expected him so early. When she’d come home from work to see his truck in the driveway, her heart skipped a beat. Since he had the code to her new garage door opener, he could always get inside. But he’d never arrived ahead of her before.
“Ben?”
He didn’t answer, so she called again. A little louder. “Ben? I saw your truck.”
This time a muffled reply came from upstairs.
Hurrying up the stairs, she almost collided with the ladder that rested below the open attic entrance. “You’re early today.”
“Finished my day job,” he shouted. Squeaking rafters accompanied his voice.
“What’cha doing up there?”
His face appeared, grinning down at her. “Wiring for the ceiling fan in the master.”
“What time did you get here?”
“About an hour ago. Wrapped up everything at the Peters place. I’m yours full-time for the rest of this week.”
Ben disappeared. There were several shuffling noises then his work boots came through the square opening.
Mallory held the ladder, worried he’d fall.
Once his body was out of the attic, he slid the panel back into place and climbed the rest of the way down. “Should be able to have that fan done tonight.”
“Thanks.” She put her groceries away, ready to kick off her shoes and relax. “I’ll leave you alone.”
He folded up the ladder as she went back downstairs, casting a couple of worried glances over her shoulder.
Two weeks had gone by since the church mixer. Since then, things between her and Ben had gone right back to client and contractor. He hadn’t mentioned the passionate interlude in the parking lot, so she refused to bring it up. She’d gotten carried away in the heat of the moment and let her feelings get tangled up with a guy who obviously wasn’t all that interested in her.
She shoved the containers of yogurt into the fridge and turned around to find Ben right behind her. “Um… hi.”
He was still grinning. “Hi.”
Heat rose on her cheeks at his intense stare. “Um… I need to—”
Ben cut her off with a quick, no-nonsense kiss. “Look, Mallory… I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? For what?” Although she tried to make her tone nonchalant, it was breathless enough to reveal how rattled the kiss left her.
“We should have talked. You know… after.”
“After what?”
She’d never seen someone who could arch one eyebrow so effectively.
“Okay… you got me.” A smile tickled her lips. “There’s nothing to apologize for. We kissed. No big whoop.”
“Oh, it was a big whoop. That’s the problem. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
Stepping around him, Mallory pulled cans of peaches and pears out of another plastic sack. His words felt like a slap to her pride. “Let it go.”
He was behind her, hands on her shoulders. “I don’t want to let it go.”
She tried to shrug him away.
He wouldn’t budge.
“Look, Ben… it was just a kiss. That’s all. Just a—”
When he spun her to face him, she let out a surprised gasp that he captured with his lips.
This one lasted a little longer, but Mallory pulled back first. Staring up into his dark eyes, she tried to figure out what was flying through his thoughts.
“Can we talk now?” he asked as his hands framed her face.
“About?”
Ben chuckled. “About why I can’t stop kissing you.” He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs.
“I—I guess.”
Taking her hand in his, he led her to the sofa, tossing aside the throw pillows. “Sit.”
Mallory obeyed, edging a little farther down when Ben plopped down beside her.
“We’re going to have to stop tiptoeing around each other,” he said.
“I didn’t realize we were.”
He scoffed. “How about we set down one important rule from the start?”
“Start of what?” Not that she was playing coy. She truly had no idea what was happening between them.
Or was she overthinking everything?
It had been too long since she’d had to gauge what a guy was thinking. If her friends were correct in their assessment of men in general, all Ben could be thinking about was sex. She could never be naked in front of a new man. That was entirely out of the question.
No man would want her now anyway…
“This… this…” He heaved a sigh. “Touché.”
“What was that rule you mentioned?” Not that she needed to know.
Ben Carpenter was her contractor—the guy fixing her house. He’d never want to be something… more. Nor did she need something more.
“One of the things that drove me crazy with my ex was her lying,” he said. “If we’re gonna… do this, I think we should promise to always tell the truth. Deal?”
“Do this? What is this?”
He rested his hand on her knee. “Honesty, remember? I think we should promise to always be honest. Agreed?”
Mallory thought about it, realized he was right, and gave Ben a curt nod. “Agreed.”
“I love kissing you.”
“I love kissing you, too.”
“I’d like us to get to know each other better.”
While part of her wanted to squeal with delight, the other, saner part of her cautioned that Ben wouldn’t want her if he knew everything there was to know about Mallory Hamilton. Not that she wasn’t a good person. There was simply too much baggage. “I see you every weekday.”
“No,” he retorted. “You see me work every weekday.”
“So?”
With a frustrated sigh, he ran his hand over his face. “I want to take you on a date. Okay?”
She shrugged even as her heart jumped to a faster cadence. After Jay left, she’d been thrown into a hurricane of change. In all the time, she hadn’t felt a single attraction to another man. While some of that might have been the chemical changes in her body, it could also be explained by her losing faith and trust in the male gender.
“You like me.” He punctuated the statement with a firm nod.
“I suppose…”
“I like you.”
“Then why haven’t you said anything for two weeks?” she asked. “You’ve been here all that time since the dance and haven’t said a word.”
“Same reason you didn’t. I was rattled by the kiss. I just didn’t know what to say.”
“And now?”
“Now, I finally worked up some guts,” he replied. “I want to see how we get along on a date. Just one date, Mallory. Okay? What’ve you got to lose?”
To know Ben was attracted to her, perhaps with the same intensity she was attracted to him, touched something inside her. “A date. Wow. Um…”
He squeezed her knee. “Seriously. What do you have to lose?”
“A great contractor.”
“Ah… now I get it. You don’t want to get personal with me ’cause you’re afraid I’ll quit working on your house.”
She nodded, although he was barely scratching the surface. Getting to know him better frightened her in almost too many ways to acknowledge.
“How about I make you a promise,” he suggested. “Go on a date with me. One real date. If we click like we did at the mixer, super.”
“And if we don’t?”
“Then we just go back to being client and contractor.” Ben held up his hand as if to shake hers. “Deal?”
Since the arrangement he suggested meant she had nothing to lose, she shook his hand. “Deal.”
When she tried to pull her hand back, he refused to release her. Instead he pulled her closer.
The kiss started out gentle. Easy. Nice. But when a growl rose from his chest and his tongue invaded her mouth, Mallory surrendered.
She loved his taste, and her body caught fire—a surprise because she’d all but chalked up her reaction to their parking lot kiss as an anomaly born of Ben being the first man she’d kissed since her divorce.
Oh, how wrong she’d been.
As his mouth lingered on hers, his tongue stroking and probing, his words floated in her head.
I was rattled by the kiss.
At that moment, Mallory was a hell of a lot more than rattled. She was in lust so deep, she had to force herself not to crawl on his lap and lace her fingers through his hair.
Dredging up every ounce of her control, she eased back. At least she was spared embarrassment since Ben was breathing every bit as choppy as she was. They stared at each other for several moments before they both grinned.
Without a word, he stood up and walked to where he’d left the folded ladder. As he carried it out of the house, he whistled a tune.
It took her a moment to realize it was “Light My Fire.”
She was smiling as she put the rest of the groceries away.
Chapter Seven
Open house.
The longest day of the year.
Mallory shoved her keys in the ignition, ready to be home and thanking God her house was only a few minutes’ drive. She’d go ahead and kick her shoes off if she wasn’t afraid her feet would swell up on the trip. If she couldn’t get her shoes back on, she’d have to walk through the sawdust in the garage, probably jamming splinters in the soles of her feet.
Ben had begun working on the dining room, adding wainscoting and crown molding. He’d set up some terrifying circular saw that looked right out of a horror movie, and the sound it made as he cut the fresh wood reminded her of a dentist’s drill on steroids.
The place was starting to shape up nicely. Her only worry was that once the work was finished, Ben Carpenter might walk right out of her life. Luckily there was still plenty to do.
The garage door was up when she got home, but Ben wasn’t in the garage. His truck was parked a couple of houses away, so she hauled her exhausted body out of the car and walked through the door into the laundry room. “Ben?”
“In the kitchen!”
The smell hit her the moment she opened the door—the mouthwatering aroma of simmering tomatoes and pungent spices. “Is that—”
“Chili,” Ben replied. “A little on the spicy side. I hope you don’t mind.”
“You… cooked?”
“I’m a chili snob. It has to be spicy or I won’t even bother. Something I learned when I lived in Texas. I made corn bread, too. Helps tame the heat.” He opened the oven, peeking at the pan on the middle shelf.
Mallory was too stupefied to move. “You… cooked?”
“I cooked.” Moving around the kitchen as though he spent plenty of time there doing something other than home improvement, Ben stirred the pot of chili, stopping to give it a quick taste.
Jay’s idea of making supper was to grab something from a drive-thru. Even the other men she’d dated before her marriage had avoided a kitchen until it was time to eat.
He picked up a big bowl of salad and carried it to the kitchen table, the one he’d obviously taken the time to clear of all the unread magazines and the mail she’d let pile up for far too long. Two places had been neatly set with silverware, glasses, and napkins.
“I—I don’t understand.”
“You said you had open house and were gonna be late. I figured…” Ben shrugged and turned back to the stove.
“You thought I’d be hungry.”
“Yeah. Chili’s easy and quick.” He grinned over his shoulder. “Next time I’ll make you a rack of lamb. That’s my specialty.”
Is he for real?
Finally finding the will to move, she toed her shoes off and dropped her purse next to Rascal’s bed. Then it dawned on her that her cat hadn’t greeted her. “Where’s Rascal?”
“He headed upstairs when I started cooking. I don’t think he liked me messing around your kitchen.”
“Probably because you didn’t feed him.” She should call him down, but she wanted to keep enjoying the sight that had greeted her.
Funny, but her feet didn’t hurt
anymore, and she wasn’t nearly as tired.
“Want a beer?” he asked, wrapping his fingers around the refrigerator door handle.
There wasn’t any beer inside. Then again, there hadn’t been any items to make chili, either. “Did you shop?”
He chuckled as he grabbed two brown bottles. “Yeah, Mother Hubbard.”
“Mother Hub—Oh… But my cupboard wasn’t all that bare. I just shopped.”
“Salad stuff and yogurt ain’t gonna cut it, Mal. You need protein to put some meat on those bones.”
Instead of taking offense, she smiled. “I’m trying to eat healthier.”
“Healthier doesn’t mean rabbit food.” He popped open the beers, set them on the table, and then took another taste of the chili. “Perfect, at least as perfect as it can be without aging overnight. Ready to chow down?”
“Absolutely.” Mallory picked up the bowls he’d left by the stove. “Want me to serve?”
Ben took them from her hands. “Nope. Go sit down. You’re exhausted. I’ll get everything together.”
“But—”
“Sit down. Let me finish getting dinner ready.”
“I can help,” she insisted. “I can—”
“Sit!” He softened the rebuke with a grin. “Let me take care of you.”
Although it felt odd, she sat in the chair he pulled out for her and waited for him to do all the things she should’ve been doing.
The only others who had gone to so much trouble for her were the Ladies Who Lunch. To have a man cook a meal felt… odd. “So is this that date you asked for?”
Scooping chili into the bowls, he chuckled. “Hardly.”
That had been her only explanation: he’d changed his mind about them going out on a real date and was substituting a quick bowl of chili. “Then why?”
“Because I knew you’d be exhausted and figured you needed to come home to something more than yogurt and salad.” After he set the bowls on the place mats, he grabbed a bag of shredded cheddar cheese and a tub of sour cream. “Wasn’t sure how you took your chili…”
“Wow. This is all so… wonderful.”
The timer started its annoying beep.
“Let me get the corn bread, and we can eat.”
* * *
Mallory washed while Ben dried. Since it was his fault they had to hand wash, he didn’t complain. A new dishwasher had been added to his list of renovations, but he was moving room by room. The kitchen was after the dining room.