by Lori Ryan
“Screw you.”
Emmett laughed. “When are you going back to Seattle?”
Ben shrugged.
Thankfully Emmett didn’t say more.
The door to the outer office opened and his mother strode in, her face downcast. Oh shit. He knew she’d gone with Maggie to see her father but that was about as much as he’d been able to pull out of her at breakfast this morning. From the look on her face, it didn’t go well.
“How’d it go?” Emmett asked.
“Not good.” His mother fell into her chair.
“What happened?” Ben asked.
“Not my story to tell, sweetheart.”
“Ma, you’ve got to give me something.”
“Was he a dick?” Emmett asked.
“He’s a recovering alcoholic,” his mother answered quietly. “There’s a lot to make amends for.”
Ben knew his mother’s own father had been a raging alcoholic for most of her childhood. He’d sobered shortly after Ben and his brothers were born and had been a decent grandfather up until his death a few years earlier. He would guess his mom understood more of what Maggie was going through than any of them.
Ben walked around his desk and pulled up a chair next to his mother. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “Just worried about Maggie. It’s a lot of bitterness to hold on to. And if she doesn’t let it go, it’s just going to eat her alive.” Ben’s heart ached for his mom. Not only was his mother reliving her own father’s abuse, but he knew she was missing his father’s support through all of this.
“Hey,” Ben touched her shoulder, “you should see what Em’s doing with the barn website. It looks amazing.”
She smiled, his usually cheery, optimistic mother slowly returning. “Really?”
“Yeah, come take a look,” Emmett said, pointing to the screen. “And we’re getting a lot more hits on both websites. Our social media stats are really jumping.”
“Oh, Emmett, that’s wonderful.” She leaned on the back of his chair and stared at his computer. “I don’t know what I would do without you.” She kissed his brother’s head, then turned to Ben. “Or you,” she added.
Ben smiled and returned to his desk, not wanting to think about when he might have to leave. If one of his brothers didn’t get here soon to help them, Ben would have to sit down and have a serious talk with Patrick and the rest of his company’s board of directors.
His cell phone rang. Digging it from his pocket he laughed. As if on cue. “Hey, Patrick, what’s up?”
“Hey, guy, how’s it going down there in Colorado? Freezing your nut sack off yet?”
Ben chuckled, thinking of how cold he’d been in the rain with Maggie. Then other things happened to his nut sack as images of Maggie underneath him played through his mind. Not exactly what he needed to be thinking about right now.
“Uh, no not yet. What’s up?” Ben didn’t have to ask. He knew Patrick was calling about the board wanting to move forward with going public.
“Well, we’ve got some bankers interested in our plans. Are you still iffy about doing the IPO?”
Ben studied the screen in front of him. The random numbers seemed like gibberish to most, but for Ben they were a symbol of his dreams. Building software, working with clients to solve their business needs, this had been at the heart of his dream when he started.
Ben thought about his mother’s confession that his father had funded the start-up for his fledgling company. He also remembered her lecture on becoming a workaholic. If his company went public, Ben had no doubt that two things would happen. He’d put in even longer hours than he already did. And he’d probably never write software again.
“I’m still thinking,” he finally answered.
“Well, I don’t mean to rush you, but we need to decide something soon.”
“I know, Patrick, I’m just…”
“I’m sorry, Ben, I don’t mean to pressure you. It’s your company, I know that. Take your time. You’ve got your hands full there.”
Ben nodded. He did. And the truth was, he wasn’t sure if he didn’t love having his hands full with his family’s business. He was discovering that he had a knack for handy work and he enjoyed the day-to-day tasks involved in running a hotel.
Ben thought for a fleeting second what it might be like to sell his company, to walk away altogether and stay in Canyon Creek permanently. He could code when and what he wanted to and help his mom and Maggie build their dream.
“If it makes you feel any better, Daphne loved the place. She thinks your family is sitting on a gold mine.”
“That’s good. And hey, thank her for spreading the word about the wedding venue. Apparently, our social media accounts are blowing up.”
“No problem. She loves talking about herself.”
Both men chuckled.
“All right, well, don’t work too hard and call me when you can,” Patrick said. “If you need anything, you know I’m here for you, day or night.”
Ben did know. And it meant a lot. “Thanks, man,” Ben said. “I appreciate that.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Later.” Ben pressed the phone to end the call.
“Who was that?” Emmett asked.
Ben turned. His mother and Emmett’s eyes were trained on him. “Patrick.”
“Daphne’s fiancé, your CFO, right?” his mother asked.
“Yes.”
“What did he want?”
Me to come back. To do an IPO that would make us both rich but would also seal our fate in a lot of other ways.
“Just checking in to make sure everything is okay here.”
“You know Ben,” his mother said, walking toward him, “you can go back to Seattle anytime you need to. Please don’t feel obligated to stay.”
Ben’s eyes caught the glimmer of movement from the back of the room.
Maggie stepped into the office.
He turned and their eyes met. She looked…defeated. And it slayed him.
His mother walked toward Maggie and took her in her arms. “Hey, sweetie. How you feeling?”
Maggie nodded. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Hey, listen,” his mother said, leading Maggie toward the desk. “Ben was just talking about how he didn’t have any plans for this evening.”
Ben’s brows knitted together as she studied his mother.
His mom narrowed her eyes.
“Yep, I was going to ask if you wanted to have dinner with me tonight.” Ben could read his mother’s mind and he wasn’t about to argue with her. Not to mention, he did want to have dinner with Maggie. He wanted to take her mind off her dad. To help her forget all that had been weighing her down so much lately.
Maggie’s gaze went from his to Valerie and back as she scrutinized them both. She let out a long sigh. “Thanks, but I promised Denise I’d help with inventory tonight.”
“Oh, nonsense.” His mother waved a hand in the air. “Emmett and I can help her.”
“We can?” Emmet squeaked.
His mother gifted Emmett with the same narrowed eyes.
“Oh, uh, yeah, we can,” Emmett said, smiling politely.
“Okay, it’s settled then.” His mother clapped her hands.
Maggie stared at the three of them, her expression guarded.
Ben stood and walked toward her. “Maggie,” he said, placing his hand on her shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You look exhausted. Let me cook dinner for you.”
Her eyes met his and it wasn’t hard to see they were puffy and red rimmed. She’d been crying. A lot. Shit.
“I don’t have anything to cook.” Her voice was broken, barely above a whisper.
“I’ll stop at the store on my way over. Do you like lasagna?”
“You cook? You make lasagna?” She asked.
“Of course, he does,” his mother answered for him. “I taught all my boys to cook before they left the house. Didn’t want to burden their future girlfriends
and wives.”
Ben stared at his mother.
“What?” she shrugged.
Ben turned to face Maggie. “Yes, I cook. And I’d like it very much if you would let me cook for you. Tonight.”
Maggie swallowed hard and Ben knew it was taking everything inside her to agree. If his time here at the lodge had shown him anything, it was that Maggie Lawrence rarely admitted defeat. No doubt, she hated the idea of him taking care of her.
“Okay,” she finally answered. “What time?”
“What time works for you?”
Maggie glanced at the clock on the wall.
Ben followed her gaze. It was just after two in the afternoon.
“I’ve still got some paperwork to catch up on and I have to touch base with a few people here before I can leave.”
“I can help if you need me to,” Ben offered.
“No.” She smiled.
Finally, a smile, Ben thought.
“Let’s say seven?”
“Seven sounds perfect.” Without thinking, Ben reached down and softly brushed a kiss on Maggie’s forehead.
She didn’t flinch or make a fuss. Obviously, Maggie was wiped. And all Ben wanted to do was take care of her. He wasn’t quite sure where the urge came from, but he knew one thing. He was starting to tire of fighting this pull Maggie had on him. It seemed to be a fight he was bound to lose.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Maggie grabbed the pitcher of iced tea and scanned the rest of her refrigerator. Nothing. As much as she’d said she didn’t want Ben to come over tonight, she was actually thankful he’d offered. She was too tired to even think about cooking.
After the argument she’d had with her father and the disappointed look Valerie had shot her in the dining room, Maggie’s head had exploded with rage, disappointment and regret. All the emotions swirling around in her head were making her dizzy.
She jumped at the knock on the front door. Walking toward the entry, Maggie glanced through the peep hole, sucking in a breath at the sight in front of her. Slowly she opened the door for a better look.
Ben stood in jeans that weren’t too loose, weren’t too tight. No, they were like Goldie Locks said, just right. A little too right.
She squirmed, remembering those powerful legs pressed against her during their evening spent in the cabin.
“May I come in?”
Maggie unglued her eyes from Ben’s legs and let them wander up his incredible body. He had a pale green buttoned-down shirt, untucked but ironed. Had he ironed? She was pretty sure he’d talked his mom into it. Two bags of groceries hung in each hand. Thank you, God.
Finally, her gaze slid up to his face. He had a day’s worth of stubble that made him edible. His hazel brown eyes showed a hint of green thanks to his shirt and the edges of his lids were creased with small wrinkles that somehow made him appear even more intelligent. Moving her gaze lower, she watched his lips curve in a delicious smile.
Maggie had heard the term “weak in the knees,” but until now, she’d thought it was some made-up comment for sappy romance novels. Nope. She was quite weak in the knees for this man.
And he knew it.
Ben raised his brow in silent question.
“Oh, yes, I’m sorry.” Maggie pulled back the door and stepped aside, allowing Ben inside. She took a few moments to gaze at his backside. Yep, just as impressive as the front.
“Should I put these in the kitchen?” he asked, glancing at her over his shoulder.
Maggie’s gaze snapped from his ass to his face. “Bedroom. I prefer to keep my food in there,” she quipped. She didn’t know why she liked teasing him.
Ben cocked his head as one side of his delectable mouth curved into a smirk. “Now that you mention it, one of these bags is for the bedroom.”
Oh, holy hell. Knees definitely weak.
Maggie followed Ben into the kitchen and watched as he gently placed the bags on the counter. The one he’d held in his right hand she noted he put in the freezer. He closed the door and looked her up and down before winking.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he said, pulling items from the bag, “but I kind of cheated.”
Maggie scooted around him and stood next to the sink, her hand braced on the counter. “How so?”
Ben held up a container holding what looked like some kind of red sauce. “I do know how to cook lasagna, but the sauce takes a long time, so I borrowed some of my mom’s from the freezer.”
Maggie had tasted Valerie’s delicious lasagna and had no reason to complain. “That’s fine. I trust you. But you will have to prove your culinary skills one day.”
“I’ll cook for you again, Maggie Mae. I promise.” He took a step toward her and brushed a soft kiss against her lips but pulled away before she could register what he’d done. “And it will be from scratch.”
Maggie’s lips tingled where they’d touched. She shook her head to clear the fog. How could one kiss, so gentle and light, rattle her?
Ben pulled a bottle of red wine from the bag. “Would you like some wine?”
Would she? She normally didn’t drink a lot, but after her day from hell she could use a glass. She’d always found if she limited herself to one glass or one beer, she was able to treat it as a challenge rather than a vice. A way to face what had destroyed her father and not allow it to destroy her.
“Yes, that sounds awesome. Let me get some glasses.” Maggie scooted past Ben in the small, galley style kitchen. He made no move to make room for her and her chest grazed his back. Her breath hitched as her breasts dragged across his broad back.
Ben pressed back against her, his ass to her front with a low laugh. “Sorry,” he said before finally releasing her.
She slapped his back. “Hardly.” She liked this playful relaxed side of Ben Sumner.
She slipped by and opened a cabinet, reaching above her head. “Would you like a glass?”
“Sure.”
She reached for the second and closed the cabinet door with her elbow, turning and nearly colliding with Ben. Now his front was to hers. This time when he pressed her against the counter, the playfulness was gone. Hips to hips, thighs to thighs, his hardness pressed against her softness.
Ben slipped the wine glasses from her hands and set them on the counter beside him, his eyes never leaving hers.
“Ben?” she whispered. Why was she suddenly being shy?
Ben’s hands stroked along her shoulders, squeezing them with expert precision.
“Ohh,” she moaned, her eyes fluttering closed.
His hands continued working her aching muscles. She hadn’t realized just how tense she was.
“You need a massage, Maggie.”
“I wish we had a spa at the lodge,” Maggie sighed.
“That might be a good idea,” Ben said. “We could add a spa onto the back of the main building or put one out near the cabins in a free-standing building.”
Maggie opened one skeptical eye.
“After the note and everything is paid for,” he added.
“Yeah, after that.” Mood officially killed.
“Hey.” Ben held her in place. “I said it was a good idea. I didn’t shoot it down.”
She let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a long day.”
His fingers slid into her hair, draping it over her shoulder as his face dipped toward her neck.
God, he smelled so good. She flinched. She hadn’t taken a shower since this morning, and after she’d returned from her father’s she’d been going nonstop at the lodge.
“What?” Ben asked, stilling his movement.
“I, I just probably…” How could she tell him?
Ben pulled back, gazing down at her, his brow creased in confusion. “Probably what?”
“Stink,” she said softly.
He laughed and bent to nuzzle her neck. “Maggie, you could never stink.” Abruptly, he pulled back. His face scrunched like he’d sucked on a lemon. “On second thought.” He waved
a hand in front of his face.
“Oh, God.” Maggie slapped a hand over her mouth, her face burning red with embarrassment.
“I’m kidding, Maggie.” He pulled her closer as he laughed.
She reached for his sides and tickled, making the large man squirm. “Ben Sumner, I’m going to get you for that.”
He quirked one brow as she slid her hands up his torso. She wasn’t tickling now. “I look forward to that,” he said.
And so did she.
“Go on,” he turned her away from him, “go take a bath while I put dinner together.” He turned and went back to unloading the groceries.
Maggie stood staring at him in disbelief. When had a man ever cooked for her? Or let her relax in a tub while he cooked? Never.
Without thinking, Maggie stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his taut waist, her chest pressed to his back. “Thank you,” she whispered into his shirt. Before he could respond or she could do anything stupid, like admit she may be falling for him, she released him and made her way to the bathroom.
Maggie closed the door behind her and sagged in relief. Her feelings for Ben were quickly becoming more intense. And it scared the hell out of her. She already had too much going on in her life. She had to figure out what to do with her dad once he was released.
And how to forgive him and move on.
Easier said than done. And not going to happen tonight.
Maggie turned the nozzle and plugged up the tub, allowing it to fill with water. She reached under the cabinet and threw in some bubble bath that she rarely used. Who had time to lay in a bath anymore? The thought made her think of Ben and how kind he’d been to her, how he’d loved her body, made love to her in the cabin.
She shook her head to release the notion that there could be more. It’s just sex. It’s just sex. It’s just…
With a heavy sigh, she poured the purple liquid into the water and watched as bubbles mounted thick. Maggie quickly tugged off her clothes and pulled her hair up into a messy bun, ready to wash away all the stress and misery of the day. Slowly she sank into the lather. When the tub was just about to overflow, Maggie turned the knob off and sat back with a sigh.