He widened his eyes and backed away, pretending to be alarmed. “Love? Caitlyn, are you telling me that you love me?”
She shot him a look. “Don’t be an idiot. I don’t even like you.”
He bit the corner of his mouth to keep from laughing aloud. It was almost too easy.
“Stop laughing at me.”
“Who’s laughing? Not me, definitely not me.” She moved to turn away from him, but he caught her hand and they both stilled. Sweet Jesus, he’d never felt such instant electricity before. Just holding her hand was a turn on.
“Ben.” His name came out on a sigh, and he wanted to hear her say it again. He was desperate to hear her say it in the throes of passion. He leaned in slowly, giving her every chance to pull away.
Her lips were tantalizingly close when she stopped him.
“Wait, I—”
Fighting against the overwhelming gravitational force that was pulling him toward her, he backed off enough to see her face.
She looked worried. Shit.
“It’s just that—” she started and stopped.
What was he doing? He was supposed to be apologizing, making her feel safe and comfortable in her own home, and what does he do? He comes on to her again.
“I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” she continued. Her hands were toying with the edge of her jacket, and her gaze wouldn’t meet his.
Of course she didn’t. This was not the kind of woman who casually slept around; everything about her screamed monogamy. She deserved to have a real relationship with a great guy. A much better guy than him. She was right to not settle for less.
Ben moved away from the siren and forced a grin. “Don’t sweat it.”
“If we were to do this.…” Her mouth opened and closed as if words failed her. Putting her out of her misery, he reached to grab the remote and end the conversation. He didn’t need her to spell out all the reasons why sleeping with your roommate was a bad idea. Of course it was a bad idea—that was his M.O. He was aching for a no-strings-attached affair to help get his mind off the traitorous bitch who’d betrayed him. But Caitlyn was most certainly not the one. She deserved far more than a quick roll in the hay with a guy who was slated to leave her life in a few weeks.
When it looked as though she’d given up on having the talk and settled back on the couch beside him, he glanced over and noticed that she was still bundled up in her winter jacket and accessories.
He plucked the bright red hat from her head and studied it. “This is gorgeous, did you make it?”
Her eyes lit up and all trace of awkward conversations went out the window. “I did. Actually, I designed it.”
He studied the hat again, this time taking note of the intricate cable design. “Impressive.”
She took it back from him and plopped it back on her head. “Hats are easy.”
Her cheeks were still flushed from the cold, and her eyes were bright now that they were talking about a topic that excited her.
“What else have you designed?”
She shrugged and looked to the ceiling as she compiled a list. “A couple of sweaters, some shawls, a whole lot of hats. I’m working on a baby sweater at the moment.”
“That’s incredible.”
She shot him a wary look, clearly worried he was teasing her.
“I mean it, that’s really impressive. Do you sell these patterns?”
She rolled her eyes, but she was still smiling. “Why does it always come down to money for you?”
“Because that’s my job,” he said, a touch too defensive. He’d never felt the need to defend his deep-seated desire to make money until this woman. Growing up in a struggling household, he’d learned at an early age that financial security was what mattered most—it meant being independent, not having to rely on others. That kind of security was what his father had always strived for—but his failure to get ahead had fueled his resentment when it came to Ben’s mother and their family. Thanks to Ben’s drive and hard work, he would never end up like that.
Most people admired his tenacity in business. But somehow this one made money sound like a bad word. He tugged on her hat in a teasing gesture. “Besides, I’ll be moving out at the end of the month, and someone has to pay for all this.” He gestured around the small apartment as though it was a spacious home and she laughed.
He found himself grinning like an idiot at the sound.
“Don’t worry, I’ll find another subletter and will manage to make ends meet. I always do.”
A nagging fear forced him to ask. “Another man?”
She gave him a questioning look. And rightfully so, the reptilian portion of his brain had apparently seized control, and it seriously impeded his speaking abilities. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I mean, you’re going to get another strange man in here to share the apartment?” Not better, really.
Her brows drew together and the laughter fell from her tone. “I use a respectable site and I do reference checks.”
He literally bit his tongue to keep from protesting further. He made a mental note to get the name of this next subletter and do his own background check. Especially if it was a man.
This particular brand of possessiveness was foreign to Ben, and he was not at all sure he liked it. He watched her profile and was momentarily overwhelmed with a feeling he couldn’t quite describe. Tenderness, maybe.
What was wrong with him? If one thing was clear, it was that this woman was not his type. She deserved someone who would treat her right, someone who had a good heart, a stable job, and who believed in stuff like family and marriage and till-death-do-us-part. She deserved someone who would take care of her and be a gentleman.
Holy shit. She deserved Cary-bloody-Grant.
That thought made him choke on a laugh, and she turned to him with a suspicious look. “What are you laughing at?”
“You,” he teased.
She raised her brows in a look he was becoming all too familiar with. It said, “You may be certifiable but at least you’re amusing.”
He loved that look.
* * * *
Caitlyn was beyond relieved that the tension had lifted. There was nothing worse than feeling anxious in your own home.
So why was she so utterly disappointed?
It was stupid. It was irrational. But she couldn’t help it. She was truly bummed. And all because Ben had respected her wishes.
It’s not like she really wanted to get involved in a casual fling with her roommate. That sounded like a bad decision in so many ways. But he could have at least tried to convince her. Irrational disappointment left a hollow pit in her stomach.
She tried to ignore it as she and Ben settled into their nightly routine, catching up on each other’s workday while she knitted and he flipped through the channels incessantly like a child with ADD.
Typically she could drown out any anxious thoughts or inner monologue by zoning out with her latest knitting project. But, try as she might, she spent the entire evening stewing over Ben’s words.
Don’t sweat it. That’s what he’d said. First of all, it sounded like a bad catch phrase from the 80s. She’s propositioned for the first time in her life, and when she turns him down, she gets something that sounds like a freakin’ Nike slogan?
What was she getting so worked up about? She was the one who’d said no.
But she hadn’t said no. Not really. Not yet. And he could have tried to persuade her.
What was she thinking? Did she really want her roommate to be pushing her into sex? Of course not.
Maybe.
She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he laughed at the late night host’s opening monologue. He was attractive. There was no denying it. And more, he was sexy as hell. That devil-may-care cocky attitude was annoying, but it definitely added to his roguish appeal. Obviously he wasn’t long-term boyfriend material—he was so clearly not Mr. Right.
But he w
ould make an excellent Mr. Right Now.
Caitlyn bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud. She had been spending far too much time with her roommate.
Pulling the yarn a little tighter than necessary, Caitlyn gave herself a stern lecture. She should be relieved that he let the topic go so easily. Sure, it had felt a little scandalous to be thought of as a sexual object for a couple days. All right, it had felt kind of awesome. It wasn’t every day she was hit on by a hot guy. But she wasn’t that kind of woman—she wasn’t the femme fatale, she was the girl next door. And that was fine by her. She would meet a guy—someone like her ex—who shared her values and her lifestyle, and she would go back to being in a stable and safe relationship.
She yawned and Ben noticed. “You bored? I can change the channel.”
She shook her head. “Just tired. I should head to bed, but this heater feels so good.”
He looked at her like she was crazy. “What kind of asshole do you think I am? I got you a heater of your own—it’s in your bedroom.”
Her chest grew painfully tight at the unexpected thoughtfulness and she stared at him for a moment in surprise. For a self-declared bastard, Ben could be incredibly sweet. “Thank you.”
His lip pulled up in a lopsided grin that made her breath catch in her throat. “You’re welcome.”
As she gathered her knitting supplies and wished him good night, it occurred to her that Ben may be a cad and a jerk, but he was also turning out to be a friend.
Chapter 6
The next day was Saturday, which meant Caitlyn was at The Ellen at the crack of dawn to meet her friends for their bi-monthly “Operation Petticoat” gathering.
Meg and Jake were already there and hard at work by the time she arrived. To be fair though, they lived above the bar, which was next door, so they just had to walk down some stairs to get there.
Tamara walked in after her, followed closely by Marc, who looked worse for the wear. “Rough night, buddy?” Jake called.
Marc muttered something about never drinking again before curling up with a coffee in the corner. Tamara, as usual, was ready for business. She grabbed a ladder and some tools and started on the molding above the theater entrance, which was sagging noticeably.
“Where’s Alice?” Caitlyn asked.
“My baby sis is late. As usual,” Meg grumbled. It was hard to take her annoyance too seriously when she looked like a pregnant elf. Her brown curls bobbed around her rosy cheeks as she scrubbed a particularly nasty bit of grime off the glass counter of the concession stand.
“So where’s Ben today?” Meg asked.
Startled, Caitlyn looked up. How had Meg known she’d been thinking about him? She felt like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She shrugged. “Sleeping, I presume.”
“You didn’t invite the hottie roommate?” Marc called from his hiding spot.
“To help clean an old theater at seven AM on a Saturday?” she answered.
“I bet he would have come.” That came from Tamara who normally kept her opinions to herself. But now she was giving Caitlyn a knowing smile. That girl heard more than she let on, Caitlyn would swear to it.
Caitlyn could feel the telltale heat coming into her cheeks, and Meg did not miss it. “What’s going on with the two of you?”
Caitlyn kept her gaze firmly focused on the spot of floor she was cleaning where someone had spilled a soda. “What do you mean?”
When she glanced up, Meg raised an eyebrow in her classic “oh please, don’t even try to lie to me” face.
Caitlyn pursed her lips before spilling it with a heavy sigh. “We kissed.”
Marc’s propped up feet fell from the chair with a loud thud, and even Tamara stopped working long enough to stare at her with blatant curiosity.
Meg’s look was so ecstatic anyone walking into the room would think she’d just won the lottery. “Get out!”
Jake had just walked back into the lobby and stopped at the sight of his wife’s excitement. “What’s going on?”
“Caitlyn and Ben are doing it,” Marc answered.
Caitlyn gasped. “We are not!”
Jake’s grin was as big as his wife’s. “Well all right, Caitie-kins. Good for you.”
Caitlyn’s face couldn’t get any hotter if she was burned alive. “We are not ‘doing it.’ It was a kiss. Just a kiss.”
Just an amazingly hot, can’t-stop-thinking-about-it, once-in-a-lifetime kiss.
“I knew it,” a sultry voice said from the doorway. “He was totally into you.”
Cold air blew in from behind Alice, giving her auburn curls a model-in-front-of-a-fan quality. Alice. Now there was a woman men fantasized about. She was the kind of sexy, experienced woman a guy like Ben wanted. It was just his bad luck that Alice lived alone in a studio and he was shacked up with the dried-up spinster of the group.
“I don’t believe it was just a kiss,” Meg said. “I saw the way he was looking at you the other night.”
“Yeah, like you were a gourmet feast and he was gonna eat you up,” Marc said.
Caitlyn rolled her eyes. God bless her friends—her well-intentioned, too kind friends. They were forever trying to boost her ego, particularly since the breakup.
“So what do you think, Caitlyn? Are you guys going to get hot and heavy?” Meg asked.
Caitlyn tried to ignore their fascinated stares. She supposed it was rather extraordinary that their plain, bookish friend had some romantic interest going on. They heard about Alice and Marc’s adventures in love every other day but for Caitlyn, this was a phenomenon on par with snow in July.
“He’s not my type,” she ended up saying.
Marc made a sputtering noise as though he was too outraged to speak. “Not your type? Not your type?”
“He’s too…” Caitlyn groped for the right word. “Manly.”
Alice dropped her coat over a chair as she settled in next to Marc to watch the others work. “Oh no, not manly,” she teased.
Caitlyn laughed as she tried to defend her logic. “I’m not saying he’s not—”
“Hot,” Marc provided.
“Sexy,” Tamara called from her perch on a ladder.
“Fine, yes, he’s…” She waved her hand in vague gesture. “He’s all of those things. But you guys know me. That’s not the kind of guy I’m looking for. I want someone who has long-term potential, someone who’s—”
“Ugly?” Alice finished.
“Asexual,” Jake offered.
“Boring!” Marc called out.
They were all laughing at that point and Caitlyn shut her mouth with weary resignation. What was the use?
“Speaking of boring,” Meg said, fidgeting in her seat. “Robert came into the bar last night.”
Caitlyn froze. The mood in the room shifted from lighthearted teasing to awkward silence as everyone waited to see Caitlyn’s reaction to her ex’s name. She had to admit that she’d overreacted just a tad when his name had come up the other night. Talking about Robert in front of Ben had seemed awkward. Besides, she’d been having fun and she hadn’t wanted the memory of Robert to ruin it.
But now, Ben wasn’t around, and the familiar curiosity that nagged at her whenever he was mentioned came rippling to the surface.
“Oh?” Caitlyn thought she did a fairly good job of looking nonplussed, but her friends were still acting like the room was carpeted with eggshells.
“Why would he come to Cagney’s of all places?” Tamara said the words that Caitlyn was thinking.
Meg didn’t answer. Caitlyn knew her friend well, however, and noticed that she was concentrating too hard on her grimy spot and her tone was forced casual. There was more to this story.
“And?” Caitlyn prompted.
Meg bit her lip before blurting it out. “He was with Becca.”
“Becca,” Caitlyn repeated. A lightbulb went off. “Becca, as in the bartender from Coppersmith’s on Sixth Avenue?” It
was one of the bars they frequented when Jake and Meg wanted a break from Cagney’s.
At Meg’s wary nod, Caitlyn did her best to hide her shock. “They were…together?” She had a picture of Becca with her cropped tank top and cleavage spilling out as she leaned over to refill their drinks. Surely not…
“They’re engaged.”
The blood drained from her head, making her lightheaded and nauseous at once. The words echoed off the walls, and the silence that followed was deafening. Until everyone started talking at once.
“I am so sorry to tell you like this. I just didn’t know how you would react and—”
“It’s fine,” Caitlyn interrupted. The others stopped trash-talking Robert and Becca at the sound of her voice.
For her part, Caitlyn was surprised to hear her voice coming out so calm and collected when her insides were in the middle of rearranging themselves into a conga line.
“It is?” Marc asked. They were all looking at her like they didn’t believe her.
“It is. It’s fine,” she said, with a bit more enthusiasm than was warranted. She forced a shrug. “It’s been nearly a year since he—” Since he walked out on me. “Since we broke up. Of course he’s moving on. Why shouldn’t he?”
Silence.
“Yeah, but why take her to Cagney’s?” Tamara’s quiet voice asked.
Excellent question. But she didn’t want to think about the possible answers so she forced a shrug. “Why not? He lives in the neighborhood, and he always liked the vibe there.”
Why not? Because it’s my bar and Meg and Jake are my friends. You can’t break up with the girl and keep the perks, it didn’t work like that. But apparently no one told Robert.
All eyes were on her, so Caitlyn grabbed the mop and bucket and continued to clean the floor with remarkable energy. When the others followed her lead and got back to cleaning a few seconds later, she turned to Meg. Of all the churning emotions, curiosity was taking the lead. “What did he say?”
Meg kept her voice low so the others couldn’t hear. “Oh, he was his usual uptight self.”
“Meg—” Her voice held a warning. She wanted honesty, not her friend’s sugarcoated version of events.
Her Leading Man Page 7