She was home? By herself? And hadn’t bothered to come over?
Settle down, boy—you switched your schedule up, remember? She doesn’t even know you’re home.
Exhaling an unsteady breath, he berated himself for being so touchy over a friend and neighbor. His eyes roved the length of her and suddenly friendship was the furthest thing from his mind. Lush blonde hair usually pulled up in a ponytail spilled wild and free over bare shoulders bronzed by the sun, setting off a red crop top that put a lump in his throat. Sure, he’d always noticed Tess had a cute shape, but stretched out on the chaise in short shorts that revealed shapely legs and a taut stomach, flat-out made his mouth go dry. Swallowing hard, he attempted a casual stance with hands in his pockets and hip to the wall, striving for a calm he didn’t quite feel. “You know,” he began with a gruff clear of his throat, “anyone would think you’re avoiding me.”
The woman popped in the air like a firecracker, faintly patriotic with her red crop top, face bleached white, and blue eyes glazed with shock. She gasped with a hand to her chest, her breathing labored. “Holy freakin’ cow, Ben—are you trying to give me heart failure?”
He chuckled and strolled forward, pulling a chair from the table to sit down. He made himself comfortable with a stretch of his legs, the soles of his Sperrys casually propped on the edge of her chaise. “Nope, but if I did, then I guess I’m the guy you’d want around.”
She didn’t smile, inflicting an instant cramp in his gut. “No fishing?” she asked, avoiding his eyes while she attempted to tug her top down to cover her stomach, an action that only provided a deeper view of the cleft at her neckline.
He cleared his throat, forcing his gaze from the swell of her breasts to her face, which now sported a pretty blush. Crossing his ankles on the chaise, he offered an off-handed shrug. “Nope, not in the mood. Too tired. Too hot. Too bored.”
Too lonely.
Her eyes finally connected with his, the coolness he saw chilling the sweat on his skin. “Really? I would think ‘bored’ would be just what the doctor ordered.”
He blinked, face screwed in a frown. “Are you … okay?”
“Sure,” she said, tone clipped. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know.” His forehead wrinkled with a faint shake of his head. “You just don’t seem yourself tonight.”
“And what’s that, Ben?” she asked with a jag of a brow, “too pushy, too perky, too big a pain in the butt?” She swung her legs to the floor and stood. “Gotta go—I have things to do.”
“Wait.” He halted her with a hand to her wrist, eyes in a squint. “Are you … angry about something?”
She flicked his hand away, plunking hers to her hips. “Angry? Now why on earth would I be angry, Ben?” Her eyes sparked hot, as if he’d lit the fuse of that blasted firecracker.
He blinked, completely baffled by her behavior. Frustration swarmed as he countered, the slightest edge to his tone. “I don’t know, Tess, maybe you should tell me.”
Her arms snapped to her chest in a tight fold. “Oh, come on, Dr. Doom, surely someone bright enough to perform open-heart surgery can figure this out. Or wait,” she said, palm splayed to her chest in feigned innocence. Her blue eyes circled wide. “Maybe one doesn’t need a heart to operate on them.” She snatched her iPod up and turned toward the door.
“Hey—” He hooked her arm, grip firm, thoughts tumbling as fast as his heart. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Cynthia, does it, having her over?”
She jerked free, blood gorging her cheeks. “I don’t give a flip how many women you have over, Dr. Carmichael, as long as one of them is your daughter and you don’t gun her down with selfish and thoughtless words. Good night, Ben.”
She spun around and stalked to the door, the thought of her shutting him out strangling the words in his throat. No! His stomach spasmed as he shot to his feet, arm jolting the screen to a stop before it could slam in his face. “Don’t do this, Tess,” he rasped, heart battering the walls of his chest, “don’t shut me out when you’re the one who opened the door.”
Everything stilled when she did—his pulse, his air—emotions suspended in time while his mind did a free fall, spinning at a pace that left him breathless. Her back seemed to sag as her head bowed, and when she finally turned to face him with a glaze of tears in his eyes, all oxygen seized in his lungs.
God help me—I need her.
“Tess …” His voice was a croak as he reached for her hand, fumbling to twine his fingers through hers. “I’m no good at this, but talk to me, please.”
Her eyelids flickered closed as a reedy sigh shivered her body, and before he could stop himself, he gathered her close, tucking her head beneath his. He breathed in the scent of lemon in her hair, reminding him so much of the woman he held in his arms—fresh, clean, with just enough tart to tingle the senses. The faintest of smiles curved on his lips. “You’re right, you know. Surgically I can heal a heart better than most, but when it comes to my own, I’m totally clueless.”
An adorable grunt muffled against his chest. “Oh, so you actually have one?”
He grinned. “Well, I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
She pulled away, the smile fading from her face. “You already have,” she whispered, “every time you turn Lacey away.”
A muscle convulsed in his throat as he nodded, gaze on the floor. “I know.”
“I’m willing to listen, Ben, but I’ll need more than idle talk …”
His lids lifted halfway, pulse throbbing when his gaze lighted on her lips. Yeah, me too …
“I’ll need total honesty, complete candor, and a willingness to change.”
So help me, I already have … His mind traced the curve of her steeled jaw, skimming across those adorable pursed lips, wondering how he could have ever missed that delicate spray of freckles across her perfectly formed nose.
“And you’ll need to apologize to Lacey, of course,” she continued, “and become the dad that she needs.”
Her words doused with a cold chill. “What?”
Ignoring the sudden scowl on his face, she dragged him back to the table and pushed him down in the chair, one beautiful brow hitched high as she scolded with a finger. “So help me, Ben Carmichael, if you want my friendship, there’s going to be a high price to pay—”
He couldn’t help it—he grinned. “Häagen-Dazs?”
That stopped her cold. Her brows bunched low. “What flavor?”
He rose with a bit of a swagger. “Maybe you need to come over and find out.”
She shoved him down, the threatening finger back in play. “Don’t you dare sidetrack me, Carmichael—I cannot be bribed.”
“Tiramisu.”
A lump bobbed in her throat several times before a rasp broke from her lips. “All right, but you need to know I’m not fooling around here.”
Head tipped, he challenged her with a skim of a smile. “Mmm … maybe you should …”
She tossed her hands in the air with a huff. “Okay, that’s it—you’re obviously not serious here—”
He fisted her wrist with a gentle hold, gaze burning hers with a smoldering look. “Oh, but I am,” he whispered, stunned at the sudden desire coursing his veins, wondering how feelings could go from friendship to fire in the scorch of a touch. A need—deeper, stronger, more urgent than anything he had felt in a long, long time—seared all reason, obliterating everything but Tess. His gaze dropped to her lips for the briefest of moments, but it was more than enough to drain the blood from her face. He circled the soft flesh of her palm with his thumb, his voice little more than a rasp. “Trust me, Tess, I’m just as shocked as you.”
She jerked free like he’d branded her with a hot poker instead of his thumb, avoiding his face as she rubbed the spot hard. “This is about Lacey, Ben, nothing more ...” Her voice trailed off.
Heart thundering, he stared at her for several seconds, finally releasing a heavy exhale, fraught with frustrat
ion. “Okay, Tess, we’ll do this your way. Just Häagen-Dazs and serious conversation at my house.”
She glanced up beneath a fringe of dark lashes, like a doe in a hunter’s sight.
He battled a grin while he stood to stretch, his smile veering toward dry. “On separate sides of the sofa with Beau in between, all right?”
“T-Thank y-you.”
The waver in her voice lured a grin to his lips, infusing a hint of victory in his tone. “And I even have some of those fancy Morelli gourmet waffle cones dipped in white chocolate.”
She glanced up, stress lines easing as a smile tugged at her lips. “It seems you have a heart after all, Dr. Doom, only it’s black with evil.” She hefted her chin with a stern fold of arms. “This could take longer than I thought.”
Pushing his chair in, he gave her a heated look, wishing it would warm her half as much as she did him. “One can only hope.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
What am I doing here? Tess hooked a strand of hair over her ear, fingers quaking as much as her knees as she stood on Ben Carmichael’s front porch.
“I need to leave a note for the kids,” she’d told him, “and then I’ll be right over.” But she stalled writing the note and stalled changing from her crop top and short shorts into loose running clothes that covered her head to toe. Her finger hovered precariously over the doorbell. And she was stalling now.
Big time.
She felt all of sixteen again, wavering in the glow of the front porch light he rarely turned on. Her stomach was as queasy as if it were one of those horrific haunted houses the kids always dragged her to on Halloween. Ghosts and goblins and things that go bump in the night.
Heat instantly bruised her cheeks as she tugged down on Jack’s old T-shirt, stretching it to cover as much of her full-length yoga pants as she possibly could despite the steamy night. The blatant desire she’d seen in Ben’s face tingled her skin with a heat that had little to do with the weather. Her jaw hardened along with her will. Well, there would be no “bumps in the night” tonight or “bumps” in the road either, not if she could help it.
Too many ghosts in our past.
Her eyes shuttered closed, and the memory of Ben’s words, his touch, his look paralyzed her as she braced a hand to the wall, body and mind swaying with indecision. Should she turn around and go home? Or brave the wolf who could very well take a bite out of any resolve she might have. She kneaded a sudden headache at the bridge of her nose. Where on earth had this mutual attraction come from? Out of the blue like this, when her sole desire till now had only been to reconcile Lacey and him.
Sure, Tess, whatever you say ... Sweat beading her brow, she could still feel the fire of his touch even now, the heat in his eyes that confirmed what she’d been unwilling to admit since the night she’d encountered Cynthia in his kitchen. She was attracted to Ben Carmichael. A low groan ached in her throat. And apparently he was attracted to her. Panic seized like a fist, freezing her feet to the floor. Oh, Lord, I can’t do this …
The door whooshed open and there he stood in all his glory, muscled body filling out a polo a little too well for a man his age. With a fold of arms, he butted a shoulder to the jamb with that little-boy grin she remembered whenever he’d trounced her, Karen, and Adam in Scrabble. Only back then it made her smile.
Not buckle her knees.
“The ice cream’s melting,” he said, the husky tease in his tone doing a little melting of its own. “What took you so long?”
Her cheeks pulsed with heat as she bolted into his house, inching sideways to avoid touching his arm. “Had to change after I wrote a note for the kids,” she called over her shoulder, all but sprinting down the hall to the back of his house. “Told ’em I was taking a long walk.”
Yeah, a long walk.
Off a short pier.
She shuddered at the click of the front door.
Into a sea of attraction that could very well drown us both.
Making a beeline for the far edge of the sofa, she nudged her sneakers off and curled into the corner, feet tucked beneath her legs. She summoned up a sassy smile, desperate to deflect the jitters tumbling inside. “Okay, Doctor Doom, only one scoop or I’ll have to run an extra mile in the dark.” She glanced around. “Where’s Beau?”
With a secret smile, Ben strolled into the family room with a smug look that told her he knew exactly how nervous she was. Those deadly hazel eyes scanned from the top of her messy bun down Jack’s mammoth T-shirt to the tips of her painted toes, laughter crinkling at the corners on his way to the sliding door. “Extra mile? I doubt that, Tess. Five minutes in this heat bundled up the way you are should sweat any calories for an entire week.” He let Beau in, unleashing a flurry of tail-wagging and whines that made her smile, helping to ease the tension at the back of her neck.
“Hey, Mr. Bodacious,” she said when Beau laid his head on her lap, “I’ve missed you!”
“You do realize how offensive that sounds that you missed my dog instead of me?” Ben slid her a lazy grin before disappearing into the kitchen.
“Kind of hard to miss somebody who shuts you out with padlocks and plantation shutters,” she called, ruffling Beau’s snout before kissing him on the nose. “Besides, I was mad.”
“Was?” She heard cabinets open and close. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”
She grinned and stretched her legs out, starting to relax as she patted the sofa to lure Beau onto the couch. “Only if I get a gourmet cone with my ice cream, mister.”
He reappeared—along with her tension—toting two cones and a Beggin’ Strip, which he promptly tossed to Beau before handing her one of the cones. “I may be a lot of things, Tess, but I’m not stupid.” Kicking his Sperrys off, he settled in on the other side of Beau, propping his long legs on the teak coffee table with bare feet crossed. “Comfortable?” he asked, tongue swiping the top of his cone as he studied her with a sideways glance. “Or do you need me to sit in the kitchen?”
She chuckled despite the rise of blood in her cheeks, deciding if she hoped to get anywhere regarding Lacey, they needed to address the annoying gorilla—or dangerous doctor—in the room. She wiggled her toe into Beau’s fur, giving his backside a mini-massage. “Nope. As long as my trusty guard dog is here and the doctor behaves, we should be good.”
“We could be, you know,” he said quietly, watching her with a hooded stare while he worked on his cone. “‘Good,’ that is. There’s something’s happening between us, Tess, and scary as it may be, you can’t tell me you don’t feel it too.”
She looked away, her voice strained. “I feel it, Ben, but it’s not a good thing, and I don’t think we should go there.”
“Why?” The cone paused at his lips while he assessed her with a serious gaze, as if contemplating the best medical procedure for a surgery.
“Because it’s not right—we have too much history.” Avoiding his piercing look, she concentrated on cleaning up her melting cone, the subject matter completely robbing the joy of tiramisu. “It would be too weird for everybody—us, our kids, my church—”
“I don’t care what anybody thinks, Tess—”
She glanced up. “I know you don’t, Ben, but I do.”
A flicker of hurt flashed across his face before his jaw tightened. “It’s just a blasted attraction I want to explore, not a proposal of marriage.”
Temper toasted her cheeks while her chin lashed up. “Yes, well before I ‘explore’ a relationship with any man, Ben Carmichael, I need something far more important than attraction.”
“Really.” He scowled, grinding his cone to nothing in several hard crunches. “And what could possibly be more important than attraction?”
She stopped mid-chew, an ache in her chest over the real reason they could never become involved. Her voice softened as all temper faded away. “Faith,” she said quietly, “a deep and abiding belief in God that binds two hearts together.”
“Yeah?” His eyes snapped, darkening from ha
zel to deep brown. “And how’d that work for you the last time, Tess?”
The air locked in her throat, his swift jab striking a blow that brought tears to her eyes. The cone trembled in her hand as she scrambled to her feet, discovering first-hand the painful nick of Ben Carmichael’s tongue that Lacey had always implied. She started for the kitchen, intending to pitch her cone and leave. “And to think I almost doubted Lacey when she told me the awful things that you said.”
“Tess, wait!” He jumped up and circled the coffee table, cutting her off at the door with a grip to her arm. “I’m sorry. Sometimes my temper gets the best of me and I say things I don’t really mean.”
“Like telling Lacey she was some other man’s mistake?”
He had the grace to blush, his hand dropping along with his gaze. “Yeah, like that,” he whispered, chafing the back of his neck. “It was a vile thing to say, and I’ve apologized to Lacey, and now I’m apologizing to you, for sniping at you like I did.”
His humble tone doused all fire in her eyes. “Why do you do it, Ben? Why do you hurt the ones who only want to love you?”
His gaze rose to meet hers, eyes somber despite the tiny tug of a smile. “Are you saying you want to love me, Tess?”
“I care about you, Ben,” she emphasized, “just like I cared about Karen and still care about Lacey, so you can wipe that smirk right off your face.” She took a step back, barely aware the cone was dripping down her arm. “So tell me please, Ben, because I truly don’t understand—why do you attack the people who care?”
Without a word he took the melted cone from her hand and disposed of it in the kitchen while she followed, silently dampening a paper towel before wiping the ice cream off her arm. When he was done, he tossed it in the wastebasket and walked out of the room, returning to his spot on the sofa where he perched on the edge with his head in his hands. “I’m no good at this, Tess,” he whispered.
“No good at what?” She carefully moved to her side of the sofa, gaze pinned to where he sat with a rare slump of shoulders.
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