A scar cutting along his right temple. His nose not perfectly straight as if it’d broken before.
Faint lines around his eyes and on his forehead. Maybe too much desert sun.
He looked strong.
Lethal.
But his hair—it was longer than normal, and his beard overgrown, like he hadn’t seen a razor in a year.
“The least you could have done was shave.”
He scratched the back of his dark head, a tight-lipped smile finding his mouth, which surprised her. It also made her uncomfortable.
His smile once had a magical effect on her. It’d pulled her out of whatever bad mood she’d been in. All Ben had ever had to do was take hold of her forearms, look her square in the eyes, and smile.
But this smile was different.
It was forced. It was uneasy.
He had changed. He wasn’t her best friend anymore.
He was someone she barely recognized.
“I thought beards were in.” His hands disappeared into his slacks pockets.
The blazer and dress pants didn’t belong on a man like him. He’d never been a shirt-and-tie kind of guy. A baseball hat, jeans, and cowboy boots had always been his typical go-to.
“You missed the memo. Even Shaun White cut his hair.” Okay, so that was the comeback of a fifth grader, and Ben’s hair barely touched his shoulders, but she was in a foul mood and couldn’t think straight.
A rumble of laughter found her ears, and a weird fluttering in her stomach had her shoulder blades pinching back.
“Since when are you into snowboarding? You could never keep your ass off the snow if I remember correctly.”
“My ass is none of your concern.” A breath of air whooshed from deep within her chest as he dragged his attention down, settling on her hips as if he were imagining what her derriere looked like.
They’d played strip poker in high school before she and Nate became a couple. And Ben had seen her in a swimsuit more times than she could count . . . but he’d never get another look at her again. Especially of her ass.
And why am I thinking about this?
“Maybe I had a shitty teacher back in the day. Maybe someone else could do what you couldn’t.” The mounting frustration continued to build as her arms crossed. Of course, she only knew who Shaun White was from watching past Winter Olympics, but she didn’t need Ben to know that.
“Sure, beautiful.”
Hell, no.
She was torn between tightening her lips into a hard grimace or opening her mouth to spew hot, angry words at him.
But nothing seemed to be happening as she focused on the quick curve of his lips that slipped into the briefest of smiles.
“It’s not that long, by the way.”
Riley whirled away, hating that she was now giving him a direct line of sight to her ass. She stole a look at him over her shoulder, and her brows knitted upon realizing her former best friend was staring at her glutes.
Years ago, he’d never given her so much as a sideways glance. He never had a remotely lustful gaze drift her way—well, minus that one incident right before Nate . . . no, I can’t think about that now.
“Do us both a favor: get the hell out of here.” The words left a bitter taste in her mouth as they rolled off her tongue.
“And you think you have the right to kick me out?” His voice dropped a few octaves, and it was different than she remembered. Deeper, laced with enough bite to cause most men to cower in fear.
It was enough to make her skin pebble as she faced him again. But what disturbed her the most was the sudden squeeze of pressure between her thighs.
She swallowed the short distance between them and jabbed a finger at his hard-as-a-rock chest, releasing a puff of air as if it were her dying breath.
His lips rolled inward, amusement flickering across his face as his gaze dropped to her index finger.
Ralph’s face came to mind, and so she stitched her lips and tied a knot around her anger, trying to strangle it for the time being out of respect for him.
Ralph was gone, and they were at his wake.
“You’re not worth my time.” She turned away from him.
“Ri-ley.” He dragged her name out as if the two syllables needed to be stretched for a mile.
There was a tight pinch of pain in her chest as if she were suffocating. She yanked her blazer off at the top of the stairs, trying to catch her breath.
“Go back to whatever cave you’ve been hiding out in,” she rasped without looking back.
His heavy footsteps swallowed the space between them, masking her heels that clicked on the wooden steps.
Once she reached the last stair, his hand curled around her bicep.
She stilled as his mouth dipped down near her ear.
Her stomach churned, her nerves frayed.
Dealing with Ben was the last thing she wanted to do right now.
Her shoulders dropped forward, and his woodsy masculine scent floated to her nose.
“You’ll never need to see me again. Promise.” His words were hard around the edges, like an uncut diamond scraping against her skin, leaving a mark.
He maneuvered around her, and the beating of her heart became a dull thud as her insides shook, as if in protest to his departure.
“Mr. Logan? Dr. Carpenter?”
Ben clutched the front doorknob, but instead of turning it, he cast his eyes over his shoulder and to a man off to the side of the stairs in a tailored suit.
“I’ve seen a lot of pictures of the two of you,” the man said and pointed to one particular framed photo that hung by the door.
Ben shifted to face him as Riley draped her blazer over the banister. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, trying to remember how she knew the man.
“I need to speak with both of you.” The man’s attention winged between Riley and Ben. “Can we talk in the office? I’m Stephen Atley, Mr. Chandler’s attorney. I’m sorry to do this now, but I’m on my way out of town.”
Ben dropped his focus to the lawyer’s outstretched hand. It took him a moment, but he finally clasped the man’s palm.
“My condolences.” The lawyer looked to her next.
She jerked her thumb Ben’s way. “Why do you need to speak to him?”
“I think it’d be best if we discussed that behind closed doors.” Atley pointed to the dining room which led to Ralph’s small office. He’d obviously been in the home before.
Her eyes darted to Ben’s face for a brief moment, but he was fixated on all of the other pictures near them.
The entire wall that followed the line of the steps was dotted with moments of the past.
Baby pictures, photos from climbing trips, high school events, and so forth served as a memorial to Nate’s memory.
There was visible movement in Ben’s throat as if he were swallowing his emotions.
So, he still had a heart. She hadn’t been sure until now.
It didn’t matter, though. Nothing could change history. And besides, history was meant to be learned from, and hopefully never repeated.
Her eyes followed the distressed oak floor as she walked behind the two men. She almost expected Ben to be wearing baseball cleats or combat boots, instead of the dark loafers he sported.
Once they were tucked inside the small office, the lawyer motioned to the chairs in front of the desk. “Please, sit down.”
“I’ll stand.” Ben turned his back to them, roping a hand around his thick neck and over the black mass of hair.
God, had he always looked like he’d been carved by a Renaissance sculpture? Or was this a product of the military?
Riley’s mouth pinched tight, and she hated herself for trying to drag up memories of Ben. She needed to stop creating a side-by-side comparison of him as a teen to the man before her now.
It wasn’t only wrong because they were at Ralph’s wake—thinking about Ben’s looks was like a betrayal to her anger.
“Well.” Atley popp
ed open his briefcase and glanced her way. “Let’s make this quick, shall we?”
“Wouldn’t want to get in the way of your trip to Fiji, or wherever you plan on going.” She wanted to hate the snarky tone that rolled off her tongue as smooth as butter on warm toast, but she couldn’t find it in herself to.
Ben faced her and gave her the once-over, starting at her black pumps and traveling up her nylon-covered legs, to the hem of her black silk dress. The material was loose enough not to give away her shape, but it suddenly didn’t feel appropriate without the jacket on top.
The dress was high-necked, so it didn’t reveal much. And surely her bare arms weren’t sexy . . . but there was something in Ben’s eyes that had her wanting to cover her chest.
“Ahem.” Atley held an open folder in his hand.
The room still held a hint of the vanilla cigars that Ralph had enjoyed on occasion.
His wife had died of lung cancer. Ralph had promised Nate he’d quit smoking after that, and he did. But when Nate passed, he had stopped caring about his health. It had been one of the reasons why she took a year off after high school before going to college; she refused to lose Ralph, too.
Why had Ben bothered to come back for the funeral? It was the burning question on the tip of her tongue, but she knew it’d be pointless to ask.
“Let’s get this over with.” Ben tugged on the cuff of his blazer as if the fit was uncomfortable, even though it looked frustratingly perfect.
“There’s not much money, but he did ask that what he had be divided between the two of you.” The lawyer’s pale blue irises met her face.
She found it hard to believe Ben would care about Ralph’s money when last she’d heard he was rolling in dough and doing rather well for himself in Vegas.
As many times as she told her mom she didn’t want to hear a word about the man, her mom always found a way to sneak him into conversations.
Her mom had announced Ben was dating a model this past summer, only to have her dad begin an immediate Google search, wanting to know which one. And when Ben and the Miss America lookalike broke up, her mom had called to break the news.
Riley wondered if the model left him because he’d stopped shaving.
However, looking at the man right now, she had to admit he had the rugged and sexy look on lockdown. He was smoking hot, and she wanted to kick her own ass for the thought.
“Did you know about the will? Is that why you’re here?” she asked, unable to tolerate the idea.
“Of course not,” Ben snapped back.
“There must be a mistake.” She kept her hands tight at her sides to resist the impulse to rudely snatch the folder from the lawyer’s hand.
“It’s all right here. The property deed, and so forth. My secretary will get you squared away next week. But there’s one more important detail I’d like to discuss.”
The lawyer stepped forward and handed a small sheet of paper to Ben.
Not to her . . . but to Ben.
What the ever-loving hell?
Ben read it, taking noticeably shallow breaths. And then his eyes became dead as he stared at the wall while handing her the note.
Her stomach squeezed as she read it.
* * *
Ben and Riley,
* * *
All I wish is that when I pass away, you bring my urn, as well as Nate’s and Maureen’s, to Nate’s favorite mountaintop in Tennessee. Please scatter us together over the peak. I’m sure that’s what he would’ve wanted.
* * *
I’ll never forget what you’ve both done for me. I hope that you’ve found each other again before you read this letter – but if not, be honest with each other. Please. Life is too short to waste.
* * *
Love,
Ralph
* * *
Even in his death, he was trying to bring her back to Ben, but why? She folded the paper in half, walked over to the desk, and set it down.
She could visualize Ralph sitting there, a red pen in hand as he graded essays about Freud’s theories on psychosexual development.
“I won’t let you go to the mountains alone, so before you try and argue, you should know you’ll be wasting your time.”
When she didn’t say anything, Ben released a ragged breath.
“Riley . . .” He threw her name into the air as if she meant something to him, which was ridiculous.
You don’t leave the people you care about.
She, on the other hand—well, after he left, she’d spent years worrying about him.
The reports on the news about fallen soldiers during the Iraq War had always terrified her.
And when her mom called and told her Ben had been injured by an IED in Afghanistan, she spent two days in her dorm room, sick to her stomach.
She bent forward. It was as if her ribs were crushing her lungs. “You don’t get to make the decisions. You—”
“Left. I know,” he said and mumbled a few choice curse words under his breath.
She stood upright and pressed a closed fist to her chest.
“Can we have the room for a minute?” Ben asked the lawyer.
Atley gathered his briefcase, and once the door was closed, she bit out, “You’re not coming with me.”
“Fine. You stay. I’ll go.”
She balked. “Absolutely not.”
He stepped closer, leaving scant room between them. His blue eyes, with a hint of gray in the irises, became darker, like steel, as he stared at her, clearly in no mood to back down.
Well, neither was she. She lifted her chin and met his hard gaze with her own. “I’m going,” she said, even though the thought of going alone to Tennessee was painful.
A heavy guilt set into her bones in the space of a heartbeat.
She was acting like a child on the day of Ralph’s wake, ignoring his last request.
He cupped his mouth, and there were faint scars like streaks of paint that ran down the back of his hand. “We’ll do this together.” His voice was tense and uncompromising.
She swallowed her unease, which tasted sour going down her throat.
For you, Ralph. I’ll do this for you. “Fine. We can take a flight Friday night. Spread the ashes Saturday, and be home by Sunday.”
“Ri?”
At the sound of her nickname on his tongue, her pulse sped up. “What?” she cried, instantly regretting the weakness in her tone. She had to remain strong.
He heaved a soundless breath, his eyes dark, his expression weary, but no further words came from him.
And honestly, she didn’t have it in her to hear any. And so, she opened the door and rushed from the room without giving him a chance.
Chapter Four
“Ben’s not what I expected.” Mandy rolled her tongue over her teeth. “I’ve seen pictures of him at Ralph’s, but wow—in person . . .” Her voice trailed off, her cheeks becoming rosier than normal. “How’d you two not—you know—back in high school?”
“I was taken, remember? And besides, he never asked.” She curled her legs beneath her on the couch, clutching the stem of her wine glass with a hard fist.
“I can’t believe he never made a move on you. You’re hot. He’s good enough to eat with or without the strawberry sauce, and—”
“Mandy!” She slapped her thigh, and her wine sloshed up and almost out of her glass.
Yesterday was the wake, and she’d remained holed up in her apartment almost the entire day today. She’d been mourning, but also hiding from her mother who’d blown up her phone with a million texts asking about both Ben and the lawyer.
It wasn’t until Mandy came over with a cheese platter and wine that she bothered to put clothes on. Well, sweatpants and a tee were barely considered clothes, but hey, it was better than her grandma PJs as Mandy loved to call them.
“If you go back to Daniel, could I have Ben?”
Go back to Daniel? Did her mom put Mandy up to those kinds of comments? Everyone may have loved Daniel, but
people needed to accept things were over for them.
She swallowed another gulp of wine, and it burned her chest a little. Aside from the cheese, she hadn’t eaten all day. Wine on a practically empty stomach probably wasn’t the best idea.
“So, it’s a definite no-go with Bobby, then?”
“Well, the rumors were confirmed when I walked in on him and Lydia this morning.”
Her eyes widened. “Doctor Harper? No way she’d hook up with him if she knew you two were together.”
“She did know.” She shrugged, not appearing too upset.
“You sure you didn’t misunderstand what you saw?”
Mandy raised a brow. “He was peeling off her shirt.”
“Maybe she spilled something, and he was helping her.”
She scrunched her nose and waved her hand as if swatting a fly. “He’s a player. I’m over it. Let’s get back to talking about Ben.”
Riley dragged in a hard breath. “I’m actually exhausted from hearing about him.”
“Oh. And who else mentioned your Johnny Depp lookalike to you?”
She brought an image of the actor to mind, one when he was much younger than he is now. “They look nothing alike.”
Mandy immediately pulled up a photo on Pinterest on her phone. “Oh, come on.”
Riley squinted as she tried to find a resemblance between Ben and Johnny Depp. “You’re exaggerating. Not even close.” Ben looked a hundred times better, and she hated herself for thinking that.
“Pirates of the Caribbean.” Mandy pointed to the screen. “I bet Ben makes sexy noises in bed, too. A little growling.”
“His longish hair and beard do not mean he looks like a—” She stopped herself, realizing the genius of her best friend.
Mandy was doing this on purpose, and God bless her. She was making Riley forget the pain. And even if it was for a few minutes, it felt good to experience a bubble of laughter expand in her chest.
Riley released the chuckle she’d been holding and polished off the rest of her drink. “You’re good.”
“What?” She casually lifted her shoulders and grinned.
The Final Goodbye Page 3