by Lori Ryan
“Whose?” Ben asked.
“Me, idiot.” Maggie yanked his hand.
“Quit calling me an idiot.”
“Well, quit being an idiot,” Maggie whispered. “We’re trying to sell this venue. You’re not helping.”
Then it hit Ben. If Daphne booked the wedding barn, he couldn’t put a stop to the renovations. If he stopped the renovations, he’d be screwing Daphne out of her venue. Then again, halting build-out on the barn could save his family’s land and give him the time he needed to reassess the renovations without full commitments.
“Listen, Daph, it’s okay if this isn’t what you pictured for your wedding. A wedding in a barn isn’t for everyone,” he said.
Maggie turned on him, a look that could turn a man to stone on her face.
Ben glanced around the barn and noted the same round, hard eyes from every woman around him. Hell.
“Hey! You’re on Team Sumner, dipstick.” Aunt Sally poked her chest. “That’s us, in case you forgot. Get on board.”
“I just don’t want her to feel like she owes me this, or anything,” Ben said.
His mind whirled. He needed to stop this before plans got out of hand and it was too late. If Daphne booked the wedding barn, she’d be seriously pissed when she found out Ben had halted expansions indefinitely. Maybe he could book a backup venue for them and pay the deposit himself, so she and Patrick wouldn’t be left with nothing when he stopped the wedding barn plans. Or maybe she and Patrick could postpone their wedding for a year. Yeah, doubtful.
“By the power vested in me by the state of Colorado,” Aunt Sally’s voice boomed through the barn, “I now pronounce you husband and wife.” She glanced at Ben. “You may kiss your bride.”
“What?” Maggie shrieked, dropping his hands.
Aunt Sally smirked.
Oh yeah. This he could get into. Back-up venue, it was. Patrick would understand.
Ben slipped one arm around Maggie’s waist as he drew her in close. “You said sell this place, right?” he whispered close to her lips.
“Not like this.” She struggled in his hold and slapped at this chest, but there was laughter in her eyes. He saw the catch in her breath as he pulled her tight.
“Kiss him, dammit,” Aunt Sally growled under her breath.
Maggie glared at Aunt Sally then turned to look at Ben.
“Well?” He arched a brow.
“Fine.” Slowly, Maggie relaxed in his arms.
Ben closed the gap, leaning in and pulling her even closer, so her thighs pressed to his, her breasts skimming his chest. Yup. There was something to this selling thing.
“Make it quick” she whispered.
Not on your life.
He wasn’t laughing now.
“Kiss, kiss, kiss.” Aunt Sally chanted, clapping her hands.
“Kiss, kiss, kiss,” the rest of the women shouted.
Ben wrapped his hand around the nape of Maggie’s neck, holding her to him as he leaned in close. Slowly, he brushed his lips against hers. Without thought, Ben’s tongue slowly licked the seam of her lips.
Maggie gasped.
Ben took advantage of her surprise and slid his tongue inside her warm mouth, deepening the kiss.
She opened for him and suddenly the kiss sparked like a lit match to dry leaves, burning out of control. Maggie melted into him as she moaned, her hands sliding up his chest and around his neck.
Ben’s hand slipped down her hips and he grew hard. Hell.
She tightened her grip, her fingers digging into his hair. Damn, this girl could kiss.
Someone cleared their throat.
Ben was oblivious to the outside world, lost in this erotic embrace. He’d always known Maggie Lawrence was beautiful. He’d had more than his fair share of wet dreams with her as the star, but never in his wildest fantasies had he thought her mouth would feel this amazing, this enticing, this—
“Ben!” His mother’s shrill voice forced them apart like cold water on two dogs in heat.
Ben stared down at Maggie, her eyes wide, face flushed, chest heaving as hard as his. Slowly, her hand came up and touched her swollen lips.
“Wow,” Daphne said behind them.
Ben and Maggie turned at her voice.
Daphne giggled. “I’m sold. Let’s book it.”
Chapter Twelve
“Oh, my goodness, Kayleigh,” Lily sighed as she dropped her chin into her upturned palm, “you should have seen it. It was dreamy, sexy.” She leaned in further, drawing out the next word. “Hot.”
“It wasn’t hot,” Maggie corrected.
“What wasn’t hot?” Myrtle Devereaux asked as she plopped down a pitcher of beer on their table. She stepped back, one arm bent on her plump hip as pushed back her short, gray hair. Deep wrinkles lined the edges of her dark brown eyes.
Myrtle had a temper like a wild boar, which served her well working as a waitress at Hank’s Place, the local bar. She’d been employed there since before Maggie was in diapers. Well, maybe not that long, but definitely since Maggie was old enough to drive her father home from the bar at the tender age of twelve. But very few knew that fact. Actually, the list was limited to Myrtle and Hank, come to think of it.
“The kiss,” Lily sighed.
“God, you’re worse than Daphne,” Maggie moaned.
“Wait.” Kayleigh held up her hand. Not only was Kayleigh Montgomery the town’s veterinarian, she was also one of Maggie’s best friends. “I’m still confused about how this kiss happened.”
“If she’s confused, I don’t stand a chance.” Myrtle stared at Maggie. “Start at the beginning, chicken legs.” She called anyone who didn’t wear plus-sized clothing chicken legs.
“The kiss between Ben and Maggie,” Lily said, staring at Maggie with a dreamy look in her eyes.
“What?” Kayleigh squeaked as she spun in her chair to look at Maggie. “You kissed Ben Sumner!”
Maggie pushed her index finger to her lips and scanned the small bar. “Shhh.”
“Why shhh?” Kayleigh asked.
“She doesn’t want anyone to know how hot it was.” Lily winked.
“Whatever.” Maggie rolled her eyes, but Lily was right. She didn’t want anyone to know how she’d responded—no, correction, not she. How her body had responded to that man’s mouth.
“Hello, Earth to Maggie.”
Maggie jumped, eyes focusing on the hand waving in front of her.
Kayleigh.
“Admit it,” Lily said as she poured them each a glass of beer.
Beer wasn’t usually Maggie’s favorite drink. In fact, she rarely indulged in alcohol at all. But Thursday night was ladies’ night at Hank’s Place, which meant half price pitchers. And Ben’s kiss had turned her inside out. A night out with Kayleigh and Lily drinking had seemed like a good idea. Until the inquisition.
“She doesn’t have to admit anything,” Kayleigh said, setting her glass down on the table. “It’s written all over her face.”
Maggie touched her face. “What is?”
“You liked it.” Kayleigh smiled.
“I did not.” She and Ben were friends. Scratch that. They weren’t friends. They were colleagues. Temporarily.
“Did, too.” Lily laughed.
“The kiss was for show. To rent out the barn. We need the business.” Maggie injected the kind of confidence into her voice needed to pull off the lie. The effort was as much for herself as it was for the other women. “Aunt Sally had us play bride and groom to suck in a prospective bride.”
Myrtle let out a groan and walked away, leaving the women to wonder if her humph had meant that story wasn’t worth sticking around for or if she meant she could read Maggie’s lies all over her face. Maggie suspected the latter.
“Uh, huh, sure.” Kayleigh raised a brow, apparently concurring with Myrtle’s likely assessment.
“You know,” Lily leaned in, “Ben could be perfect for you.”
“What?” Maggie’s brow furrowed. “What a
re you talking about?”
“Puh-lease,” Kayleigh said. “Have you seen that ass? And those eyes? Oh, and those hard, muscled thighs—”
“Stop!” Lily shouted, holding up a hand. “Ben is my cousin. That’s just,” she wrinkled her nose and shook her head, “just…gross.”
Maggie was thankful for Lily’s interruption. She didn’t need anyone cataloguing all the things about Ben she was trying to convince her body to forget.
“But you have to admit,” Kayleigh continued, “he’s hot as—”
Lily slapped her hand across Kayleigh’s mouth.
As much as Maggie didn’t want to admit it, Kayleigh was right, Ben Sumner was most definitely hot as….
Kayleigh pulled Lily’s hand from her mouth. “Look, assets aside—and trust me, he’s got some good assets,” she nodded with a wink, “why is Ben perfect for Maggie? They work together. That should be a no-no, right?”
“It is a no-no.” Maggie nodded. “This is sooo not happening.” She raised a finger and pointed at the women in turn. “Not. Happening.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure he has no intentions of staying for the long term,” Lily said.
Kayleigh stared at Maggie and nodded. “Oh yeah, your type for sure.”
“What does that mean?” Maggie asked.
“Please, Mags.” Lily poured more beer into her glass. “You always choose guys who you know will leave before they get too close.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.” Kayleigh bobbed her head. “It’s like they have to have an expiration date before you’ll put out.”
Lily snorted.
“Name one.” Maggie sat back in her stool, arms crossed over her chest.
Lily held up on index finger. “Jason Pacella.”
Maggie released her arms with a huff and grabbed her mug, swirling her beer. “High school boyfriends don’t count.”
“They do when you hook up with them a week after you find out they’re going out of state for college.”
“I did not,” Maggie protested.
“Did too,” Lily said.
Kayleigh raised a finger. “Oooh, Kenneth Dumont from the resort.”
“Kenneth?” Maggie laughed. “That instructor three years ago? He was only here for the ski season, that doesn’t count either.”
“Exactly.” Lily nodded. “It’s like your boyfriends are seasonal. As soon as you found out Kenneth would be leaving, you were on him like…” Lily looked to Kayleigh for help.
“Like a dog on a jar of peanut butter,” Kayleigh said with a nod.
“What? That’s what you came up with?” Lily laughed.
Kayleigh simply lifted her shoulders. “Dogs love peanut butter. That’s why guys smear it on their...” She nodded to her lap, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Oh, gross, Kayleigh.” Lily swatted her.
“Whatever.” Maggie sipped her beer, ignoring the debate over dogs and peanut butter and guy’s private parts. “That doesn’t explain your comment about Ben.” In some ways, Maggie wished Ben would stay. It was going to break Valerie’s heart to see him leave again. She’d been so happy to have Ben and Emmett back in Canyon Creek.
“He’s got a huge, successful computer company in Seattle,” Lily said. “He’s got a life, a career, and he’s never been a fan of Canyon Creek. If I know my cousin, he won’t be staying long.”
“He’s probably got lots of little playmates in Seattle, too.” Kayleigh smirked.
Maggie felt a stab of jealousy. “God, is that all you ever think about, Kayleigh?”
“What?” Kayleigh asked, chugging the rest of her first glass.
“Sex,” Lily and Maggie said in unison.
“Oh, please,” She waved her hand in dismissal. “The clitoris is God’s gift for punishing us with periods. A peace offering of sorts.”
Lily choked.
Kayleigh only shrugged. She never apologized for her bluntness.
“Uggh! Enough.” Maggie groaned. “I’m going to the ladies’ room.” She slid off her stool and marched toward the bathroom at the back of the bar.
“Bet his muscular thighs could hold you up against the bathroom wall all night long, Maggie!” Kayleigh’s voice echoed behind her.
Maggie didn’t turn around, although the image of Ben’s legs pressing into hers had entered her mind more than once today. Her girls’ night out was not helping. She needed new friends.
Chapter Thirteen
“I really don’t want to be here,” Ben said as Emmett pulled on the door to Hank’s Place, the local bar. The tavern had been a mainstay in their town since his brothers were kids.
Loud music and the chatter of patrons spilled into the parking lot, further reinforcing Ben’s urge to turn and leave. The last thing he wanted was to be around noise and people right now.
“Too bad.” Emmett shook his head. “It’s been a long week and I want a drink. And I don’t need Ma hanging over my shoulder while I try to relax.”
It had been a long week. Ben had been studying spreadsheets and forecasts, trying to figure out a way to save the wedding barn, and at least a few of the cabins Maggie and his mother wanted so badly. They would be pissed when they saw his final proposal.
“Come on.” Emmett placed a hand on Ben’s shoulder and gently pushed him over the threshold. “It’s Ladies’ Night.”
“I’m not a lady.”
“Of course, you’re not. We’re here for the ladies. You know for a smart guy, sometimes you’re dumb as rocks.” Emmett gave him a sideways look and scanned the room.
Ladies’ night at a bar didn’t thrill Ben. Right now, there was only one woman he was thinking of, and somehow, he doubted Maggie would be at the town’s dive bar on ladies’ night.
Entering Hank’s Place was like walking back in time. Peanut shells still littered the floor surrounding the bar and the tall tables directly around it. Hank told folks he believed the oil in the shells was good for the hardwood when he started the tradition decades before. Most people thought he’d just been too lazy to sweep the floors after everyone left. Either way, it was now a trademark of the place.
The traditional mirrored wall behind the bar made the space seem larger than it was. A small dance floor lay on the left as you walked in and two pool tables and a few dart boards stood in the small alcove just behind. Booths lined the far wall and a few tall tables with stools littered the remainder of the small space.
Locals called it a bar. To Ben, it was more of a beer joint. Bars had fifteen-dollar cocktails designed to draw people in for happy hour. Hank would look at you funny if you asked for a Cosmo or a chocolate martini, and the marquee outside had advertised one-dollar long necks.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the Sumner boys.” The gravelly voice suited the owner’s name. Ben glanced up to see Hank Porter, sling a bar rag over his shoulder and grin. The crevices in his face transformed into deep ridges. He’d been a long-time resident of Canyon Creek and he was as much a fixture of the town as his bar
“Hey, Hank,” Emmett said, throwing a leg over one of the bar stools and sliding on as he smiled at the woman sitting next to him. She gave Emmett the kind of look that said he wouldn’t need to exert much effort to take her home for the night.
“What can I get you boys?” Hank threw down two paper coasters.
“What? You don’t need to see any ID?” Emmett asked.
“Emmett here says it’s ladies’ night,” Ben said. “And seeing as he’s quite,” Ben studied his brother, “feminine, he wanted me to bring him in.”
Emmett scowled while Hank sized him up and down. “You don’t look nothing like those ladies over there.” Hank nodded behind them. Despite his age, he openly ogled any woman who walked through the door.
Both men turned at the same time and saw two women at a high-top table, one of them their cousin Lily, and the other a woman Ben didn’t recognize. Ben quickly noted that the one woman he wanted to see was missing. He couldn’t explain the dull
ache of disappointment in his chest.
Emmett turned around and stared at Hank. “Eyes off our cousin, old man.”
Hank responded with raised hands and an “I’m innocent” look on his wrinkled face.
“I’ll have a whiskey,” Emmett growled, not completely mollified.
Ben knew Hank was mostly harmless. Aside from the fact his behavior was insulting to women everywhere, his wife would have his balls hanging from her living room mantle if he touched another woman. It never stopped him from looking, though, as he liked to point out to anyone who would listen.
“I’ll have the same.” Ben might as well make the best of it. Clearly, he wasn’t going to drag Emmett out of here anytime soon.
“You sure?” Emmett asked dryly.
“Yeah, why? You babysitting me tonight?” Ben asked.
“Whiskey’s like truth serum to you, brother. Not exactly the best idea.”
Ben turned on his stool and laughed, remembering the time he, Emmett, and Aaron drank half a bottle of Jim Beam. He’d been so wasted, he’d spilled his guts out to his father about how they’d stolen the town’s ambulance for a joy ride through town. Shortly thereafter, Ben had puked up the contents of his stomach onto his father’s socked feet. Not his finest hour.
On second thought… “Make mine a beer,” Ben said. “Whatever you’ve got on tap.”
He ignored the smug look on Emmett’s face and surveyed the bar. Everything was pretty much the same, with the exception of new pool tables in the back. Ben focused on the players and drew in a breath as he noticed a familiar ass bent over the pool table. Maggie.
Dark auburn curls brushed against the felt as she slid back her cue. Her supple backside, now on display for the entire bar to see, suddenly had his groin aching. Since their scorching kiss, sultry images of the two of them had haunted his dreams. Images of Maggie Lawrence’s petite body settled over his as she ground down on him. Images of Maggie’s mouth opening in a soft cry as his body worked her toward climax. It had given him a perpetual hard-on.