We Shouldn't

by Vi Keeland

  Bennett ran his fingers through his hair. “Probably.” He plucked the hardcover book from my hands as I attempted to stash it back in the plastic bag. “But apparently it’s a good thing I’m here.” He read the cover of my purchase. “You Do You. What is this? A self-help book on masturbation?”

  I snatched it back and tucked it into the bag. “No. What it is is none of your business.”

  “Boy, you’re cranky. I think you really need that book.”

  “It’s a book about accepting who you are and not worrying about what everyone else thinks about you, if you really must know.”

  He smirked. “That’s a shame. What I thought it was about would be a hell of a lot more interesting.”

  “What’s going on with your flight? Do you know what the delay is about?”

  “Weather delay in L.A., something about high winds. All the flights are backed up. Originally they said a forty-minute delay; now it’s up to two hours.”

  “I was booked on the eight thirty. Mine’s pushed two and a half. I better see if they can get me on your flight.”

  After a twenty-minute wait in line, the best they could give me was standby. Bennett was leaning against a pillar, scrolling through his phone when I returned.

  “I’m waitlisted. Not sure I’ll get on.”

  He winked. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it for us if you aren’t able to get there. I’ll relay what the client’s looking for when I get back.”

  “Yeah. That’s a great idea. I’ll rely on what you come back with to prepare a pitch for a client you don’t want me to win.”

  “Looks like you might not have a choice.”

  I looked at the time on my phone—a few minutes after seven. It was a five-and-a-half-hour drive up to L.A. If I left now, I’d have six hours to get back home and get there. “I’m going to drive.”

  “What? It’s over three-hundred miles.”

  I picked up my bags. “I can make it. It’s better than sitting here for two more hours only to find out I can’t get on the earlier flight and then missing the meeting.”

  Bennett looked at me like I had two heads. “It’ll take you an hour to even get back home with rush hour traffic now.”

  He was right. I couldn’t go back for my car. “That’s true. I’ll rent one here. That’ll save some time. I’m going to go. Good luck with your flight.”

  I turned and started to weave my way back through the terminal toward the exit. I dreaded driving half a day on the highway, but I dreaded the thought of living in Texas even more.

  Luckily, I caught the Air Tran to the rental car center just as the doors were starting to slide closed. In the center, I picked the agency with no line.

  “I need to rent a car for the day for a one-way trip to Los Angeles?”

  The woman typed into her keyboard. “What size car are you looking for?”

  “Whatever is the least expensive.”

  “I have an economy available. It’s a Chevy Spark.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “Actually,” a deep, familiar voice said next to me, “can we get a full size, please?”

  My head swung to find Bennett standing next to me.

  He extended his driver’s license to the woman behind the counter and graced her with his signature, charming smile. “And put it under my name. I’ll be driving. I can’t take five and a half hours of listening to her drive.”

  The woman looked between the two of us and then addressed me. “Would you like me to change it to a full size, ma’am?”

  I addressed Bennett. “Did they cancel your flight or something?”

  “Yep.”

  I thought about sharing a car with Bennett. Six hours of him being mean to me or giving me the cold shoulder was worse than driving alone.

  I looked back at the rental agent. “I’ll take an economy. Mr. Fox can rent a full size if he wants.”

  “Seriously? I’ll pay for half. It’ll cost you less than an economy car by yourself.”

  “It’s not a matter of money. The company will pay for it anyway. I just think it would be better if we drove separately.”

  He looked perplexed. “Why?”

  I looked at the agent, who raised her brows and shrugged, as if to say she’d like to know why, too.

  “Because you’ve been a jerk to me. I don’t want to deal with that for the long drive. I’d rather be by myself.”

  Bennett’s face fell. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought hearing me say that made him feel bad. We stared at each other. I could see the wheels in his head turning as he mulled over his response.

  The muscle in his jaw clenched, and his eyes darted back and forth between mine. “Fine. I apologize.”

  This man ran so damn hot and cold. “And you’ll be nice for the entire trip?”

  He sighed. “Yes, Annalise. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  I looked back at the agent. “We’ll take a mid-size car.”

  I caught Bennett’s mouth opening to say something in my peripheral vision, so I nipped that in the bud. “It’s a compromise.”

  He shook his head. “Fine.”

  And just like that, I was about to take a road trip with the Beast.

  Chapter 16

  * * *

  Annalise

  I didn’t argue over who would take the first shift driving—only because I really hate driving anyway. But I did use Bennett’s wanting to be behind the wheel to negotiate that the passenger had control of the radio.

  We’d been on the road for about two hours now, and our conversation had been limited, mostly polite small talk about work. He seemed to be off somewhere else, although I wasn’t sure if he was lost in thought or maybe he liked quiet to concentrate when he drove. I figured I would follow suit on the limited talking in case it was the latter.

  “There’s a rest stop in about a mile,” Bennett said. “I’m going to stop to use the restroom. But they also have a Starbucks if you want coffee or anything.”

  “Oh, that’s great. I don’t have to go, but I’ll definitely grab a coffee. I need more caffeine. Want me to pick you up anything?”

  “Yeah, that’d be great. Whatever dark roast they have with cream, no sugar.”

  “Okay.”

  At the rest stop, Bennett went to the bathroom while I waited in a long line for coffee and scrolled through my emails on my phone. Earlier I’d emailed Marina to let her know about our change in plans. I knew some airlines canceled your return flight if you didn’t show up for the first leg of the trip, so I’d asked her to contact Delta and make sure we stayed booked on our return flights. Her response was interesting.

  Hi, Annalise. You’re all set. Since your flight hadn’t taken off yet, they let me convert it to a one-way ticket without a change fee due to their delay. Your itinerary number is the same. But since Bennett’s flight had already taken off, his return was automatically canceled, and I had to book him a new one way and apply for a refund on his outbound. He has a new itinerary number: QJ5GRL

  Hope your trip gets better.

  Marina

  Bennett had said his flight got canceled. Perhaps Marina was mistaken? I started to write her back, and then something made me check for myself. Calling up the Delta flight status website, I typed in the departure and arrival cities and set the approximate time of departure as 7AM. Sure enough, it confirmed that Bennett’s flight had taken off fifteen minutes ago and was due to land at a little after eleven. The page also listed the subsequent flights, so I scrolled down to find mine. The estimated landing time was now pushed to after our meeting was set to start at one.

  I’d made the right choice to drive. But why had Bennett joined me?

  ***

  Not knowing the answer gnawed at me as we drove. I internally debated the reasons Bennett might’ve lied about his flight being canceled. There were only two I could come up with. He had either been afraid his flight would get canceled and I’d show up to the meeting alone…or…he didn’t want me to drive
alone because he knew how I felt about driving. The logical explanation was that he didn’t want me alone with the client. It should’ve been a cut-and-dried answer requiring no debate. Yet I kept coming back to what Madison had said the other night at dinner.

  Beast. Was he a good guy underneath the roar and trying to hide it?

  Whatever the reason, I could have just let it be. But that wasn’t my strongpoint. No, I had to understand the man next to me, whether he wanted me to or not.

  I turned my body toward the driver’s side so I could watch Bennett’s face as I spoke. “So Marina got back to me about confirming our return flights.”

  “Good. Any issues?”

  “No. We’re all set with the same return.” I paused. “Except she mentioned something.”

  “Let me guess, her lunch went missing and she called the cops on me even though I’m not there today?”

  I chuckled. “No. She mentioned that she had to rebook yours. It seems they canceled your return because your seat wasn’t used on the outbound flight that had already taken off.”

  Bennett side glanced from the road to me, and our eyes caught. He returned to staring straight ahead and said nothing for a solid minute. I saw the wheels in his head turning.

  Eventually he said, “Needed to play it safe. Couldn’t have you showing up at the client without me.”

  I was probably nuts, and I couldn’t put my finger on why, but I didn’t believe him. For some reason, I was suddenly certain Bennett was lying. He’d taken the trip with me because he didn’t want me to have to drive alone. It warmed my heart a little, though he clearly didn’t intend for that to happen. And it made me want to be nice back.

  I took a deep breath and stuck my neck out…again. “The other night really helped me a lot.”

  He glanced over a second time. His face was pensive, like he was curious to hear what I had to say, but also didn’t think it would be wise to have this conversation.

  “Oh yeah?”

  I nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it. I really owe you. If you hadn’t set me straight on what you thought Andrew’s intentions were before I went, I would have woken up the next morning in a room at that hotel. Not only that, but when I eventually figured out on my own that he wasn’t planning on us reuniting for more than one night at a time, it would have been like ripping open a wound that had already started to heal.”

  “Just told you what I saw happening. Could have been totally off base.”

  “But you weren’t. And you were there for me, to help pick up the pieces when I might’ve fallen apart, even though I’d told you off.”

  Sitting in the passenger seat while Bennett drove really had a big advantage: I could study his face. Being able to focus and watch the way his jaw ticked, his mouth moved, and his brow furrowed with confusion when he was unsure of how to answer shed a lot of light on Bennett Fox. He struggled for a moment over how to respond to my last comment before deciding on a simple nod.

  “So now that you know my sad relationship history, what’s your story? The only thing you’ve given me is that you’ve never had a girlfriend on Valentine’s Day. It’s only fair that I know something about your love life. Plus, we’re stuck in this car for hours more, so you might as well tell me and get it over with, because I’ll get it out of you before we reach L.A. And don’t worry—we can go back to being non-friends when we open the car doors.”

  Bennett stayed focused on the road, but managed a forced smile. “Nothing to tell.”

  “Oh come on, there must be something. When was the last time you had a date?”

  He shook his head.

  He did not want to be having this conversation. But my need to have it was stronger than his resistance. The man had me curious.

  “Was it a week ago? A month ago? Seven years?”

  He sighed. “I don’t know. A few weeks ago. Right before you vandalized my car.”

  “What was her name?”

  “Jessica.”

  “Jessica what?”

  “I don’t know. Something with an S, I think.”

  “So I guess you only went out with her once since you don’t even know her last name?”

  A guilty smirk dimpled his handsome face. “Actually, I went out with her a few times. I’m just bad with names.”

  “Really? What’s my last name?”

  He answered without missing a beat. “Pain in the ass.”

  I ignored that. “So you went out with Jessica S. a few times. Why did it end?”

  He shrugged. “It never really began. We just got along and…were compatible.”

  “So you were compatible, yet it only lasted a few dates. Why is that?”

  “I didn’t mean we were compatible for anything long term.”

  It took me a minute to catch on. “You mean compatible as in you were compatible in the bedroom?”

  “It is what it is.”

  “So you’re saying it was a sexual thing only.”

  “We went out to dinner a few times. Enjoyed each other’s company. I just like keeping things simple.”

  “Really? Why is that?”

  “I like my life better without unnecessary complications.”

  “So you see women as complications, then?”

  “Most women are complicated, yes.”

  I pondered that for a moment. “So how does it work? You meet a woman and ask her if she’s interested in a night of sex only?”

  Bennett chuckled. “It’s not quite that simple.”

  I teased. “But if it’s not that simple, it would be complicated. And you don’t do complicated.”

  He mumbled something under his breath about me being a pain the ass and shook his head—something he did frequently when I spoke.

  “No, seriously,” I said. “I’m interested. How does it work? Do you use a dating service or something?”

  Bennett glanced to me and back to the road a few times. Seeming to realize I had no intention of letting the subject go, he sighed. “It’s less sterile than that. If I take a woman out, at some point the conversation inevitably turns to what both of us are looking for in a relationship. I’m honest and say I want to keep things casual. But it’s not hard to tell what a woman is looking for before you get to that point. So I avoid the ones that are…complicated.”

  “You’re saying you can tell whether a woman might be interested in a sex-only relationship by just, what, talking to her for a few minutes?”

  “Usually.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  He shrugged. “Seems to have worked out for me so far.”

  I looked out the window, lost in thought for a minute, then asked my next question while watching him in the reflection. “What about me?”

  Bennett’s eyes completely left the road and his head swung toward me after that. “What about you?”

  “You’ve spent some time with me now. Tell me, would I be interested in a sexual relationship only, or am I too complicated?”

  I turned back to look at him and watched as he raised a hand to his chin and rubbed. A wide smile spread across his face when he stopped pretending to deliberate over his answer.

  “You’re as complicated as they come, sweetheart.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, then shut it, then opened it. “I am not.”

  He flashed me a look that said bullshit.

  “I’m not!”

  “You’ve been on a break with that moron for what, three, four months now? How many men have you gone out with during that time?”

  My lips pursed.

  “So I take that as a none, then?”

  “I needed a break.”

  “From sex?”

  “From men.” I frowned. “Andrew really hurt me.”

  “Sorry. But that just proves my point. You could have gone out and had sex if you wanted—a physical release. But you associate that with a relationship.”

  I guess he was right. I’d had a one-night stand my first year in college and hated the way I felt th
e next day. I suppose I was complicated.

  Now I was the one who wanted to change the subject.

  “Have you ever had a girlfriend?” I asked.

  “Define girlfriend?”

  “A person you dated exclusively.”

  “Sure. I told you, I’m not big on sharing when I’m seeing someone.”

  “How long was your longest relationship?”

  “I don’t know, a few months. Maybe six.”

  “Have you ever been in love?”

  Bennett’s jaw tightened. Clearly that question caused some hurt.

  He cleared his throat. “You said you owe me one, right?”

  I nodded.

  “Let’s change the subject to talking about business, and we’ll call it even.”

  Chapter 17

  * * *

  Bennett

  “Annalise? So great to see you.”

  The guy who had just walked into the room to join the meeting came around and hugged Annalise. I watched his hand travel to just above the crack of her ass as he wrapped his arms around her—debatable whether that would be considered appropriate for a colleague.

  “Tobias?” She pulled back from the embrace. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m the new VP of Creative for Star Studios. I left Century Films and started here a week ago. I didn’t see your name on the agenda for today until this morning or I would have reached out earlier.”

  “Wow,” she said. “Well, it’s great to see a familiar face. How have you been?”

  “Good. Keeping myself busy at work. Still perfecting making wine on the side. First full crop came in last week at the little farm I picked up last year. I may have to call your parents for some tips.”

  “That’s great. They’d be happy to help. You’ll have to share a taste when your first bottles are ready.”

  I stood right next to Annalise, watching the entire exchange. While the sommelier, or whatever the fuck you call a winemaker, didn’t divert his eyes from the woman in front of him to notice me, Annalise suddenly remembered I was here.