She would do well to remember that.
Chapter Two
Ben had thought the day couldn’t get any better—and then out of nowhere—the girl who had fractured his fragile pre-teen heart had reentered his life, as beautiful and unattainable as ever, and was sitting across from him eating dinner.
Jade.
He almost hadn’t recognized her when he first saw her in the lobby. Where she once had angles she now had incredible curves, and her dirty blond ponytail had transformed into sun-streaked, pin-straight tresses.
He twisted his napkin under the table. He had to stop thinking about her physical assets. What lay beneath a person’s skin was far more important. His ex-girlfriend claimed he didn’t know his own heart, but she was wrong. He knew what he wanted, and Sofia was peeved it wasn’t her. Thank God he’d finally seen the light.
“So, tell me about your videos.” Jade dipped two more fries into ketchup and bit them in half, her tawny eyes fixed on his. She didn’t peck at her food like Sofia. He liked that. But then, he knew that about her already. He rubbed his chin. Maybe the reason he’d hooked up with a woman like Sofia—high-maintenance and ultra-feminine—was because she was as much of an opposite to Jade Engel as he’d been able to find.
He swallowed and shifted in his chair. The timing may have been off when he and Jade were teens, their hormones at odds with their brains and good sense, but now they were adults. He gazed at her and realized she was still waiting for his response. “You won’t be surprised – American History.”
“Wow, that’s right. Remember how many trips I took with your family?” She smiled a real smile for the first time this evening, one that reached her eyes. “I was practically your adopted sister. We went to Fort Ti, Crown Point, Lake George, and—” She sat up straight and slapped her hand on the table. “Hey, did you ever make it to Colonial Williamsburg?”
“I did.”
“Did you love it? I always wanted to go but never got the chance.”
“You should go. When we got there, it was like we’d time traveled and landed in the late 1700s. The guy who impersonated John Adams was the best.”
“Your favorite president, right?”
“Yes.” She remembers. A strange bubble rolled around in his chest, a lightness he hadn’t felt since he was a kid. “He was incredible. He had the dialect, the stories, the mannerisms.” He took a sip of wine. “There was a tour and a bunch of hands-on activities. Inspirational.” He stopped; tempted to tell her how she had inspired him, also. But he couldn’t. She had been cruel, in the end, and he refused to allow anyone that kind of control over him again.
She was still there, eyes glued on him, chin in hands.
Those eyes captured his imagination and his head swam with ideas. He wanted to get close and personal with this girl from his past. “It’s too bad you couldn’t go with me.”
“When was it?”
He rubbed the scruff on his chin. “Summer before I started high school.”
She sat back in her chair and pulled her hands onto her lap. “I see.” She swallowed. “That was after...” Her voice trailed off and she looked at her hands.
Was that anger or sadness he glimpsed in her eyes before she looked away? He sucked in a breath at her pinched expression, the same look she’d worn that horrible day, the last time he’d spoken to her—until today.
Ben entered the cafeteria of their K-12 school with racing heart and sweaty palms. He was going to surprise Jade with the most amazing gift, and by next weekend they would be girlfriend and boyfriend. He arrived at their usual table, the one they had claimed as a pair since fourth grade. She wasn’t there. He scanned the room twice. On the third sweep, he realized she was the girl in the off-the-shoulder shirt and painted-on jeans with her back to him. She was sitting at the popular table. That was why he’d had trouble finding her. She blended in with all the other girls in their class.
He walked up to her and said hi and she whipped around, her face covered in clownish make-up like the other girls, as well as that pinched look she wore when her mother yelled at her to clean her room. “Why are you wearing all that?” he blurted out.
She hissed at him under her breath. “MYOB.” She turned away and whispered to Amy Wilder next to her.
Slow to get the message, he thrust the envelope between the two girls toward her like an olive branch. “I got Medieval Times tickets for next weekend.” His voice cracked on the last word.
All the girls laughed—including Jade.
With burning ears, he stepped back in confusion. “But you love Arthurian Legend. That’s all you talked about this summer. I mowed lawns and saved money to—”
Jade exploded from her seat, a sneer twisting her face. “Amy was right. You’re such a geek.” Her voice rose. “Do you really think I’d waste my weekend by spending it with you?”
He stood, frozen, as forty pairs of eighth-grade eyes turned to witness his social demise.
Jade looked around, hesitated, then stomped all over their eight-year friendship with her words. “Do you really think I would want to eat with my fingers like a heathen while grown-ups dressed in stupid, old-fashioned costumes ride around on stinky horses in a fake battle? Really?” She glanced at the tickets. “Did you forget we have our eighth-grade dance next week? A bunch of us girls are going to the mall in Plattsburgh this weekend to shop for dresses.”
“W-we can go to the dance instead, if that’s what you want.”
She looked him up and down like he was a worm she was about to dissect in Science. “Danny Fitzgerald asked me. I’m going with him.” And then she finished him off, ripping the tickets and throwing them up in the air, laughing with the rest of the room as they fluttered like discarded confetti onto the cafeteria floor.
Fifteen years on, Ben didn’t remember anything after that. He shook his head and focused on the woman sitting across from him.
Her pinched look had disappeared, replaced by a frown. “I bet you’re the heartbreaker now.” Her voice was soft.
He swallowed the last of his wine to ease the bitter taste in his mouth. The past was the past. He wasn’t the pimply, greasy-haired geek mooning after the pretty girl any more than he was the commitment-phobic man Sofia accused him of being. Maybe Jade and he could start over. They had both made their mistakes. Let it go. “You still living in Florida?”
“I’m home till January third.”
He had a month. If he wanted it.
Her next words interrupted his train of thought. “I can’t wait to see my grandmother. Her stroke was such a shock to the whole family. It made me realize how little time I’ve spent with her over the past few years.”
The spunky lady had been at church a couple of weeks ago, living in Starling with the Engels since rehab for her stroke. “She looks like she’s on the mend.”
Jade fiddled with the stem of her glass. “Yes, Mom was with me on Long Island for Thanksgiving and she said Grandma’s speaking and starting to walk with a cane.” She gave him a tremulous smile. “No keeping an Engel down.”
Ben had almost forgotten Jade’s sweet, ethereal side, the one she had mercilessly covered to fit in with the other girls.
Or had she? At that moment, she glanced up from her plate and quickly averted her gaze, her back suddenly stiff and her face tight, as if she wanted to distance herself. He remembered that expression. “Where is that server?” she said, sharp and almost jittery. “I hate when people can’t do their job right. This steak is practically mooing. I can’t eat it.” She waved the harried woman down. “Excuse me. Can we get some service here? I’m sorry but this meat is inedible.”
Her tone dredged up another torrent of memories. The day she’d broken his heart had been only the first of many times she’d belittled him in front of their schoolmates. And he’d just taken it. Why? In the hope she’d some day go back to being his sweet friend from childhood? Did people ever go back?
He took another gulp of wine. He suddenly didn’t feel much lik
e celebrating.
Jade woke the next morning with an unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand and groaned.
Damn.
She’d overslept.
She rolled out of bed and promptly tripped over her Pilates mat left on the floor after her middle-of-the-night routine. One of the doctors she’d seen for her stress-related insomnia had suggested it, but so far it had done more for her figure than her sleep.
Meanwhile, she had less than thirty minutes in which to get dressed, return the rental car to the airport, and meet Ben in the parking lot. Grabbing clothes out of her open suitcase on the floor, she tossed them onto the bed.
Why did I agree to share a ride with him?
She began yanking on her clothing as she considered. Maybe it was about giving herself a chance at correcting the bad impression she knew she’d made. He’d given her that smoking hot stare and she’d been so flustered about this very new, very different Benji Stephens, she’d turned on Ms. Bitch to that poor server. Apparently it was the only defense strategy she had, where this man was concerned.
Ben Stephens didn’t seem like the kind of guy bothered by all that much. He marched to his own drum, was true to his own heart. But she had been mean to him in the past and rude yesterday evening. He had a right to be upset, but she didn’t want this to be where it ended.
So she’d said yes.
At nine on the dot, grimly proud of her efficiency, she reached the parking lot outside the hotel, her errands finished and the cabby paid. The howling wind and sleet from the night before had been replaced by thundering snowplows sanding the main road. She looked across the parking lot from where the taxi had dropped her.
Ben stood next to an SUV, windows cleared of snow and engine running. He saluted in greeting.
She waved in response and stepped across the icy pavement to the vehicle, pulling her carry-on behind her, handbag slung over a shoulder.
Quiet, Ben placed her luggage in the back seat.
Jade moved around the vehicle to the open hatch. A Golden Retriever greeted her, tail wagging. “So you’re the beautiful Sadie,” she crooned to the silky dog, holding out a palm for the inquisitive canine to sniff.
She turned to Ben, tempted to apologize for her moodiness last night and for the past that stood between them. She had worked so hard to put those years and memories to rest. That was one of the reasons she hadn’t returned home in so long. She’d needed distance from the town, her old friends, and her old self. Seeing the hurt in Benji’s eyes last night triggered that self-loathing she’d lived with as a teenager when it came to how she’d treated him. She hadn’t been nice, but he hadn’t given her much of a choice either. He should realize she reacted that way to survive. Or was it unfair to expect him to perceive that much?
She looked up and her gaze glued to his mouth, her mind pulled in a different direction. What did he taste like? Was he a slow kisser or one who dove right in? Heat spread through her stomach and thighs and she leaned toward him, considering all the possibilities. It had been way too long since she’d been with a prospective “panty dropper” as her friends would have said. All she could think about was getting closer to him. What would it feel like to snuggle against that muscular chest, touch those beautiful lips with hers? She blinked.
Wait a minute. What am I thinking? This is Benji.
She looked anywhere but at him. “I really appreciate this.” Damn. Why did she sound so out of breath?
He grunted and rearranged the dog’s blanket.
She patted the dog’s head, getting a sloppy kiss on her cheek in return.
At least Sadie likes me.
“Let’s get moving,” Ben said, and they both climbed in.
As the vehicle picked up speed, Jade leaned her cheek against the chilly window and watched the ice-covered bushes lining the road rush past her window. Ben turned on the stereo, tuned to a local station playing Christmas songs. She recognized Michael Buble’s version of “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.” She sat upright, relaxing her shoulders, but soon her head began to nod. She fought the feeling.
“Trouble sleeping last night?”
“No, it was fine.”
“Mm-hmm.”
She didn’t care if he believed her. She wasn’t losing sleep because of a boy she’d done wrong back in middle school. That was just plain crazy. She’d struggled with this damned insomnia for years. She snuggled further into her coat and stared at the road ahead.
He merged onto the interstate heading south toward the ferry to cross Lake Champlain.
Memories of family travels between New York and Vermont popped into her head. “Going via Charlotte?”
“Yup.” He eyed her closely. “You can put the seat back if you want.”
“I’m fine.” She bristled, unsure how to react to kindness from him. She might not deserve his hatred, but she didn’t deserve his consideration either. It would be better if they both remained neutral—like Switzerland.
He turned up the heater and changed the radio from music to news before settling back into the drive.
Her phone vibrated against her hip. Elena, one of her closest friends from downstate, had sent her a private message. The poor girl felt trapped in New York City until her sister, Kara gave birth.
Jade punched in a few words: Aww, honey, you can do this. She hesitated, hating the inadequacy of her sentence then started over. One day at a time, right? She grimaced and deleted that too. Why couldn’t she erase her younger friend’s trauma and fears as easily as she did the trite words? Sadly, there was little Jade or any of the girls could do for Elena. They had all been devastated by the events of 9-11, when Elena and Kara had lost their mom, but the young woman’s spirit had been crushed, her vibrant personality all but drained out of her. Their mothers assured them all they needed to do was give her time and unconditional love, but so far it didn’t seem enough. There was nothing worse in this life than watching someone she loved suffer when she was helpless to ease the pain and loss.
She wiped away a tear and glanced at Ben. A momentary pang of grief engulfed her, and what-ifs swirled through her head. No, it was too late. She’d burned all bridges related to him long ago. Some things couldn’t be fixed, no matter how much time passed or how many apologies were given.
His eyes were on the road ahead, oblivious to the tug-of-war in her head. It was just as well.
Jade returned to her texting: Focus on your work with Kara’s charity foundation. That baby will be born and you’ll be back in the sunshine before you know it. She hit SEND as her phone vibrated again, signaling another text.
This one was a reminder message from State College. They needed a final decision regarding her acceptance by January second, the same date as USC. California’s graduate program was the smart, prestigious choice. The colleges were each giving her a month to make a decision; she would use it. She didn’t want to mess up the career path again.
She tucked her phone back into her coat pocket before leaning back to rest her eyes. She was so tired. When would she ever catch up on all that lost sleep?
A bump in the road jarred Jade’s eyes open. She rubbed a hand across her face and blinked. “Where are we?”
“Ferry.”
She rolled her neck. “I slept?”
“Yeah.”
She looked out the front window and focused on the view instead of the driver. Their vehicle was first in line. What a perfect first day of December, the shimmering water navy blue with frosty whitecaps that rocked the vessel gently as it crossed Lake Champlain. To the west, about an hour southwest of the valley villages that lined the shore, the Adirondack Mountains sheltered her childhood community of Starling. Part of her soul lived in that rugged terrain. She took a deep breath to ease the tightness in her chest.
She was going home.
Ben held out a thermos. “Coffee?”
She shook her head. Two cups a day was her limit and she’d met it at the hotel waiting fo
r the taxi to arrive. More than that and she was jittery.
“Sub?” He held out a portion of the huge sandwich.
“Sure,” she said, her stomach grumbling as usual. She reached out to take a hunk. Their fingers brushed in the exchange and she pulled back, spilling some of the sandwich’s contents on her lap. “I’m such a klutz.”
“Here, let me.” He leaned over and began picking pieces of shredded lettuce off her new leather coat.
She shooed him away, heat rising up her neck onto her checks. “Got it. Thanks.”
He leaned back and looked out the driver’s side window. He was humming that Santa Claus song.
Her brain played fill in the blank with the lyrics. You better watch out. You better not cry. You better not pout. I’m telling you why. She finished cleaning the mess. No mayo or mustard had made contact with her clothes. Good. She examined her hand where his fingers had touched hers. It looked the same. Impossible. Wow, and she had thought his gaze was potent. She bit what was left of the ham, turkey and American cheese, and leaned back against the headrest.
She had no sooner closed her eyes than an image of Ben handing her an envelope in Starling Central’s cafeteria popped into her brain. She pushed the memory away. She had been mean to him, but that was in the past, just as the reason behind her cruelty couldn’t hurt her any more either. Yet she’d never had the chance to apologize.
Correction, she’d never tried to find it.
She opened her eyes and turned to him. “Hey.”
He glanced her way.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her throat painful and tight. “Not just for last night, but for everything. For eighth grade. For... not finding a better way.”
He was quiet for a long moment before looking at her. “Don’t stress it. We were kids, both of us. We both got things wrong.” He took a swig of his coffee. “Let it go, Jade. I have.”
A Light in the Window Page 2