Two Is a Lonely Number

by Amanda Torrey

  He winked—the wink that usually had ladies going from friendly flirting to I-won’t-bother-saying-goodbye-to-my-friends.

  The wink was a given. It worked every time. Hell, it had worked with Karly the day of Cole’s wedding.

  She growled at him when he reached out to touch her arm.

  He jerked back.

  “What is wrong with you?” Ben couldn’t contain his scowl. He had no idea how his tactics had become so ineffective, but her chronically negative reactions made his stomach turn.

  Maybe she had given him whatever bug she had.

  “What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? I’ve never met someone who hated babies so much! Babies!”

  Her eyes flooded with tears, and even knowing he risked being bitten, he couldn’t contain the urge to pull her into his arms.

  She struggled against him for a moment, and he wondered why he bothered.

  He shouldn’t have to work this hard for a woman. He shouldn’t give a second thought to a woman who clearly found him objectionable.

  But then she settled into his embrace, and he was given the honor of kissing the top of her head. Her soft hair tickled his chin. She gripped his shirt as though she couldn’t decide if he were the rescuing lifeline or the riptide that would pull her in.

  As the precarious seconds ticked by, her body relaxed against his. Her shoulders rose with each inhalation, and her head rested against his chest.

  “I don’t hate babies.” He mumbled the words, amazed that her face had moved to nestle against his neck. Every exhalation of hers fanned his skin, warming him more than any naked woman ever had.

  “Could’ve fooled me.”

  “I don’t hate babies. They’re cute little buggers.”

  He felt her smile against his neck, then smiled himself as her lips danced over his skin.

  “Good,” she said.

  He wondered why she cared so much. Why she was so emotionally affected.

  Maybe because they, as best friends to Cole and Ava, would be expected to each play a large role in the kid’s life. Maybe they’d be godparents.

  Or maybe it was just one of those crazy woman things he’d never quite understand.

  “I’m not a huge fan of babies, either.”

  Was she crying? More?

  He tightened his grip on her, holding her steady while her shoulders shook.

  “I mean, they’re cute and everything, but aren’t they just born cute so their parents won’t eat them?”

  What?

  He stiffened.

  “You know,” she sniffled. “Like in the wild. You know how some animals eat their babies? Isn’t that why they have to be cute?”

  He tried to hold back his chuckle, but he couldn’t hide the shaking of his chest while she was pressed to it.

  “I’m sure you’re right.”

  “And they’re so expensive.” She trembled.

  “They’ll be okay. Cole isn’t exactly hard up for money.”

  “And they ruin your sex life!”

  He laughed again at her exasperated tone.

  “Hey, I said that and you flipped out on me,” he reminded her. He was rewarded with a pinch on his chest. “Besides, they’re so crazy for each other—maybe it won’t make a difference.”

  “This is awful.”

  “Hey, they’re over the moon about it. They’re not like us.”

  She pulled away from him.

  “Not like us how?”

  Why did everything she ask him sound like a warning?

  He pulled on his ear.

  “You know. People like us don’t have kids. Not for a long time, anyway.”

  Her eyes did that narrowing thing again.

  Where had he left his keys?

  She crossed her arms over her chest. Her nails gripped her arm, whitening the flesh before it began to redden.

  “You know what I’m saying,” Ben hedged. What was he saying?

  “Oh, I hear you. I see you. Now get the hell out of my house.”

  “Karly, come on. Don’t be like this. I was just saying that we’re too young and virile to have our sex lives ruined.”

  “And your sex life is more valuable than the life of a child?”

  Her voice rose to shrieking level, and he wondered if she continued speaking and he just couldn’t hear it because of the high pitch.

  “Yes, I have to say that my sex life is more important than my imaginary, non-existent child.” He shook his head. Why were they even having this conversation?

  She sure as hell didn’t strike him as someone who wanted to be a mother at this point in her life.

  “Out.”

  “Was on my way.” Ben lifted his keys from the coffee table, storming past the insane woman on his way out. He nearly bumped into her, but she stepped back before allowing any contact.

  Without another word, she slammed the door behind him.

  Maybe he had dodged a bullet with this one.

  Whatever attraction he had thought he had to her was quickly diminishing as he sped down tree-lined roads.

  Maybe now that he had an up close and personal taste of her bitterness and possible psychosis he’d be able to resume his old lifestyle and finally get laid again, since he hadn’t been able to consider any other women since that night with Karly.

  He was a bigger idiot than he thought, because no matter how much rage flowed through his veins, he still had to fight the urge to turn around and kiss the anger out of her.

  Chapter Three

  Karly amazed herself with her ability to go from sobbing to punching the doorframe to throwing pillows and back to sobbing, all within the blink of an eye.

  If this hormotional storm was any indication of what the rest of the pregnancy would be like, she wasn’t sure she’d survive.

  How could something the size of a pea inflict so much chaos?

  And how could one man ignite so many different types of flame?

  When he had shown up at her door, Karly had been prepared to break the news. She had to tell him. He had the right to know. She had already decided to keep it—she couldn’t even consider any of the other options.

  But since he had declared Cole and Ava stupid (basically) for conceiving, she knew he wouldn’t take the news well.

  Hell, she still wasn’t taking the news well.

  She’d have to tell him eventually, but not yet.

  She splashed cold water on her face, twisted her hair up into a sloppy bun, and prepared to complete the photography job that was due tomorrow. She was thrilled that her hobby-turned-side-job was taking off, but the photos needed to be organized, framed, and delivered by eight in the morning. She had been trying to stay focused on getting this job done while also managing her full-time job responsibilities, but the constant nausea and the drama of the pregnancy test—one test she hadn’t hoped to pass—had her falling behind.

  Hours later, while she was settled amidst the sprawling mess of frames, mats, and photos, someone knocked on her door.

  “Come in!” She shouted.

  She almost didn’t look up, assuming the visitor was her neighbor bringing over more of her apple bounty to share, since the only other person to ever drop by was Ava, and Ava never knocked.

  On her knees, she bent forward to reach a distant print. Her knees nearly failed to hold her up when she looked up and caught Ben—fully dressed in suit and tie, obviously coming from work—staring down her shirt.

  She sat back on her heels, waiting for him to explain his presence.

  “You said to come in,” Ben fiddled with a brown bag in his hands, but he remained standing in the doorway.

  “That was before I knew it was you.” Karly smiled sweetly.

  He ignored her comment and ventured forward until he hovered over her.

  She suddenly felt very, very small. And very, very vulnerable.

  And very, very in need of having his body pressed against hers.

  She blinked to clear the vision of his naked flesh fro
m her sick, sick brain.

  “I brought you soup.” He knelt beside her, offering the bag. “Freshly made.”

  “You made me soup?” She reached for the bag, inhaling the comforting scent of chicken and herbs. Her stomach growled.

  “Not exactly. I commissioned the making of the soup. Doesn’t that count for something? Freshly made in someone else’s kitchen. Not a restaurant.”

  Damn, his grin was too much. How could any woman with a libido resist him? Hell, sex had been the last thing on her mind lately, but he had a way of bringing certain parts of her back from the dead.

  “It definitely counts for something.” She opened the bag, surprised to find a spoon resting on top of the Tupperware container. “Well prepared, I see.”

  “I wasn’t even a Boy Scout.”

  Ben’s eyes lit up with a special twinkle that had her wanting to kiss his cheek.

  So she leaned forward and did just that.

  Hey, he wasn’t the only one who could play the unexpectedly adorable card.

  A tentative smile spread across Ben’s too-good-to-be-real features. His high cheekbones reddened in a way that made him look young and innocent. Though she knew he wasn’t yet thirty, she also knew “innocent” was a word that hadn’t described him for probably close to half of those years.

  “Do your friends know you’re this caring?”

  “Don’t you dare tell…”

  He was cute when he tried to hide his bashfulness.

  Wow. Ben Knight. Playboy of the greater New England area, and probably beyond. Bashful. She never would have guessed it.

  “Hmm… blackmail. I like it!”

  She ripped the cover off and dug into the soup.

  “Oh my god. This is heaven. Who the hell did you find to make this?”

  “Can’t tell. Need to keep a secret weapon so you’ll need me.”

  She couldn’t explain why, but something about the vulnerability in his words, covered with a thick layer of cockiness, made her heart ache.

  There was more to her baby’s father than she had ever guessed.

  “Well if you come bearing food like this, I’ll never slam the door on your face.”

  “Noted.”

  “What made you want to feed me, anyway?” Karly angled her body toward him and slurped down another spoonful.

  Ben shrugged.

  “I was worried about you. You’ve been so sick. And pale.”

  “Okay, okay. Enough with the compliments.” Karly rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t explain the warmth rushing through her. Must have been the lukewarm soup.

  “You know what I mean. Obviously you’re as gorgeous as ever—”

  “Much better. Keep talking.” She smirked at him. He stumbled to get back to his diatribe.

  Interesting that he could be thrown so far off his game.

  This was fun.

  “Besides, when I left here you were pissed off. I had to make it up to you.”

  “Ah, so this is a guilt offering.”

  “Sort of.”

  His half grin brought about an ache that was nothing like the nausea she’d been experiencing.

  “Now that you’ve consumed the offering, I have another proposition for you.”

  Karly avoided meeting his eyes as she popped the cover back onto the bowl. A proposition from a man like Ben meant one thing—intense pleasure and an inability to say no.

  She hadn’t had a chance to consult the baby books yet, so she didn’t know if sex was safe or not.

  Give me strength.

  Sex had to be okay. No couples in the world would abstain for nine freaking months. Besides, what about the people who didn’t find out right away?

  Yeah, she didn’t have to say no.

  She turned her flirting eyes toward him.

  “A proposition?” Her voice purred.

  He cleared his throat, obviously affected.

  “Yes. For a date.”

  A date? She would not, could not, date this man.

  Sex? She could convince herself to hop aboard. The damage was already done, anyway. Dating? No. Way too much emotional charge.

  She avoided emotion in relationships like she avoided frost heaves and pot holes in the winter road.

  Ben wasn’t relationship material.

  And neither was she.

  “Sorry, I don’t really do dates.” She busied herself with arranging the photos she still needed to frame.

  He scuttled closer. His warmth scorched her, even though he remained just out of reach.

  “I suspected you’d say that.”

  “Sorry to burst your little bubble of masculine ego.” Karly batted her eyelashes at him.

  “No, no. No bursting at all. I have no doubt I’ll be able to find someone willing to attend the exclusive Halloween Gala with me. I thought art was your thing, but I guess not.”

  Ben leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. She gripped the front of his shirt.

  “The Halloween Gala? Are you for freaking real?”

  She had been pining for the opportunity to attend this exclusive art viewing since the first announcement nearly a year ago. She had known she’d never have a chance, but reality hadn’t put a hole in her wishing balloon.

  “Would I lie to you?”

  Well, yeah, most likely. But she kept her opinions to herself.

  “How did you get tickets? They only gave out fifty, and only to a handpicked few.”

  “Let’s just say I’m a well-connected man.”

  He puffed his chest out and she half expected him to start beating it in pride.

  “May I assume this is a ‘yes’?” he asked.

  He wiggled his eyebrows in the way she normally would have.

  Karly set her jaw and nibbled the inside of her lip, narrowing her eyes as she studies his too-innocent face.

  “Why me? Why would you invite me?”

  “Karly, Karly, Karly.” Ben placed his hands on top of the ones gripping his shirt and gently stroked her knuckles. “You underestimate me.”

  She raised an eyebrow and tried to pull away. He tightened his grip.

  “Your first mistake is in thinking I’m simply a playboy.”

  She snickered.

  “Keep on underestimating if you must. You’ll soon learn I’m a man of integrity, not simply a man who can make you scream.”

  “You make me scream, all right.”

  “Yes. I remember.”

  She didn’t like the way his eyes grew darker as he spoke. The way his voice grew deeper. She didn’t like the fact that he could so simply make every nerve ending in her traitorous body come alive, standing up at the top of her skin, begging for him to touch her. Anywhere. Everywhere.

  She didn’t like that he wasn’t shoving the mess of photos aside and climbing on top of her.

  She wanted to scream in frustration at the fact that he wasn’t making her scream at that moment.

  Because, truly, it would only take a moment of his time.

  “Okay, Mr. Hot Shot. Tell me more about what I don’t know,” Karly challenged.

  He lowered his head. She straightened her spine, prepared for the challenge.

  His lips hovered oh-so-close.

  “I may not have learned to appreciate fine art,” he whispered, “but I can certainly appreciate a beautiful woman who does.”

  Karly usually prided herself on never falling for the lame lines dished out by men who wanted to get laid.

  She had no pride right now.

  If getting laid was what he wanted, she was ready to serve herself on a platter.

  She licked her lips, staring at his mouth as she willed him to seal the deal.

  One kiss. She was all his.

  “I take it by your hungry expression that you’ll go with me?”

  Hungry, yes. For the gala? Well, yeah. But at that moment, the only thing she wanted was him.

  “Fine,” she muttered, holding her breath and trying to slow her thundering heart. “But it’s not
a date.”

  “If you say so.”

  Ben withdrew. She almost fell over.

  Why was he over there?

  She almost asked him, but regained her composure before embarrassing herself.

  The new life inside her rebelled at the sudden change. Karly struggled to get up, excusing herself, and rushed to the bathroom to relieve herself of the soup Ben had so kindly delivered.

  If she didn’t stop throwing up soon, the thing growing inside her would have no nourishment.

  Definitely had to get some baby books. Or something.

  “You are not better.”

  Ben stood in the doorway of the bathroom, arms crossed over his chest and his jaw raised.

  She had the sudden urge to bury her face in the toilet. But then that thought made her want to vomit again.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine.”

  “Here we go with the compliments again.” She tried to smile, but she started dry-heaving instead.

  No wonder he hadn’t wanted to kiss her. She wouldn’t want to kiss her, either. She was as far from elegant and sexy as a woman could possibly get.

  The urge to punch him in the balls for doing this to her nearly overwhelmed her.

  He rushed forward to rub her back as she leaned over the sink. She wanted to tell him to go away—fervently prayed that he would—but he kept on standing there.

  When she regained control, he led her out of the room.

  “Déjà vu,” she joked.

  “You’re going to bed.”

  “I’m not going anywhere but back to my living room where I will finish the job you so rudely interrupted.”

  “How the hell do you expect to work when you’re this sick?”

  “Simple. I sit. I arrange. I frame. I have a job due in the morning, and my reputation is more important than my comfort. That’s how.”

  “Then I’m helping you.”

  Karly smiled a tight smile, rubbing the back of her neck while trying to figure out how to get rid of him.

  “You don’t know anything about what I’m doing.”

  “You’ll have to explain it to me.”

  As her jaw grew heavier, Ben removed his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves.

  He loosened his tie and whipped it off over his head, flinging it through the air until it landed in a striped heap on the top of his jacket. She shuddered at the memory of him loosely tying her to the coat rack with that tie.