Twice in a Lifetime (Love Found)

by Henrick, Ruthie

  “C’mon, man, forget it. Let’s get cleaned up and hit the town.

  He had to admit blowing off a little steam might ease the frustration grinding at him. “Yeah, okay. We could—oh, shit!”

  Ben shot him a quick, quizzical glance, then rolled to his feet and kept up as the conversation took a left turn. “What’s up?"

  Jake lowered his head into his hands. The hair flopping over his face hid his eyes. Reese. He couldn’t believe he forgot. He couldn’t believe he got roped into this. And if Ben called him a pussy heads were definitely going to roll. He plastered his gaze on the television and forced nonchalance into his voice. “Hey Tate, you got plans Saturday?”

  Ben strode into the kitchen, an ice pack strapped to his bum wing. “Aren’t we in Lubbock?” The refrigerator opened, then closed.

  “Nah, those games aren’t until next week.”

  “Right.” Ben reappeared, one can tucked into his sling, another in his free hand. He lobbed it Jake’s way.

  Jake popped the tab with a muted pfft and guzzled half.

  Ben made it back to the recliner, then one-handedly popped open his can and sat back without taking a sip. “You need me out of the apartment? I can make plans.”

  Jake propped his drink between his knees. “Still seeing Vivian?” He didn’t see the attraction, but friends ask anyway.

  “Nah. She’s history.”

  Jake nodded in understanding. And something like relief. “Bye, bye, prom queen.” He waved a flippant farewell to Cheerleader Barbie, the love of Ben’s life for two whole months. “Actually, I need you to do me a favor. Reese hatched this plan.”

  Ben arched an eyebrow. “So? I thought you weren’t serious.”

  Jake lifted an amused eyebrow. “How serious is a blow job?”

  “Good point.” Ben matched his smirk as the commercials ended and the game resumed. “So what’s the deal?”

  “She’s got this friend. Allie.”

  Ben’s eyes went hot as he dragged them from the tube. “Are you fucking insane? Our first free weekend in a month and you want me to do what?”

  “Yeah, I know. But she’s bugging the shit out of me.” And she told him he wasn’t getting laid again until her friend did, but he didn’t need to overshare.

  “Jesus, Jake.” Ben blew out a breath. “What’s she like anyway, this Allie? Is she a dog?”

  “Hell if I know. Supposedly she’s Reese’s best friend, but I’ve never met her.”

  “Maybe she’s fat.”

  God, he hoped not. He wanted his hands on Reese’s tits. “Reese says she studies all the time. One date then done, all right?”

  The glare Ben leveled was pure blue flame. “In case you haven’t figured it out, genius, the idea sucks.”

  “C’mon B. Just to get her off my ass?” Fuck, now he was begging.

  “This is not a date. It’s a favor. And you owe me big time.”

  Ben added a scowl to his glare, but he’d deal if it meant Ben caved. “Sure, anything.”

  “I’m not talking about a case of beer or gas money to Snow Bowl, either.”

  “Fuck you. We’re talking pizza, for chrissake. I’m not asking you to marry the girl.”

  The roar of the crowd pulled his attention back to the game.

  Sparky’s was having a busy night. The mixture of college students and young families made snaking his way through the pub a challenge. “Over there.” Ben used his chin to point toward a relatively clean booth far enough away from the stage. He already had to shout to be heard over the rowdy mob of kids in the arcade. He didn’t need his ears bleeding from the band, too.

  Duct-tape band-aids made sliding onto the vinyl seat tricky. He craned his neck to search out a waitress. “Jesus, it’s crowded tonight. We’ll never get service.”

  “Don’t be a girl. The pizza’s hot, and the beer’s cold and cheap. She’ll get here. Suck it up.” Jake turned his head to watch the door. “Oh, good. Here they come.”

  “All right, let’s get this over with.” Ben swiveled his head until he could see the entryway. The glass door was just closing behind Reese and she was distracted, jabbering with someone on her far side. The crowd shifted and he bolted upright in his seat. “Oh, shit. Not fat.”

  From across the table, Jake cleared his throat. “Definitely not ugly.”

  Ben’s eyes were glued to the girl. The tangy aroma of oil and spices drifted from the table behind them. A couple laughed as they strode past on their way to the bar. A waitress finally appeared and took an order across the aisle. As she left, she jabbed her stubby pencil into the nest of hair piled on her head. All of this was distracting, but nowhere near as compelling as the chick crossing the room.

  Short curls in some dark shade of red bounced atop the package strolling toward him wrapped in curve-hugging jeans and ankle-breaking heels. Her sudden laugh lit up her light eyes—gray maybe—and exposed a single dimple.

  His night was looking up.

  His hands actually itched to map the lush curves hidden beneath her fuzzy blue sweater. What the hell? He scrambled to stand, and clapped his arms across his chest.

  On legs that caused him to imagine wild, wicked acts, she approached the table and abruptly jerked forward. From instinct his hands shot out, caught her by her shoulders to save her from tripping. The urge to draw her closer startled him.

  Before he could release her, Reese swept in, swung a finger back and forth in an introduction of sorts. “Ben, this is Allie. Allie, Ben.” The amused gleam in her eyes drew a wide-eyed glare from Allie before she darted her eyes downward, her thinned lips silent.

  He followed her gaze to the floor. The hardwood was ugly and worn. What did she see down—Oh Christ. His mouth went a little dry at the hot pink toenails peeping out from her stilettos. Maybe it was a good thing she hadn’t said anything yet. He couldn’t talk if he tried.

  With a casual gesture he guided her onto the seat. He needed distance. Her scent—something soft and floral—was lodged in his brain and playing hell on his good intentions. He remained standing at the end of the table. Maybe he was safe there.

  Jake reclaimed his side of the booth, leaving Reese to slide in beside him. “At last we meet the mysterious Allie. I’m Jake.”

  With a quick curve of her lips Allie reached across the table and took Jake’s outstretched hand. Her words, however, were directed at her friend tucked underneath his arm. “So, not a god after all. I’m disappointed.”

  Jake coughed out a laugh and tugged Reese closer “Telling stories on me, woman?”

  Reese’s eyes could only be described as adoring. She patted his forearm. “Just girl talk, sweetie.”

  Jesus. What had Jake gotten himself into? Whatever it was, he hoped it wasn’t catching. He met Reese’s gaze. “Something to drink?”

  She paused in removing her jacket. “Draft for me.”

  He raised an eyebrow to Allie.

  “The same, thanks.”

  Her eyes were gray. And sparkled with green flecks when she smiled. With a flourish that he hoped didn’t look as foolish as it felt, he sketched a bow. “Your wish is my command, ladies.”

  Across from her, Jake’s eyes narrowed and followed Ben as he wove his way across the crowded floor. “Who does he think he is? A genie who just had his fucking lamp rubbed?”

  Amusement twitched on Allie’s lips at the muttered words. And immediately slipped off as her eyes followed Ben as he crossed the room. Why, for all the times she’d heard his name bandied about, did she not realize exactly why he had enough ex-girlfriends to form a fan club? He was a blond god, and evidently she was not immune. He made her breath catch. And her shoulders burned where he’d grasped her. She couldn’t help but track him—and the glorious way he filled out those faded Levis—as he made his way to the bar.

  Oh, good Lord, she was in trouble.

  Ben returned with their beers. Set them on the table and settled in close. The arm he dropped over the back of her seat was all hard muscle and tea
sed her shoulders through her thin cotton blouse. To keep from torturing herself she pulled away but was instantly eased back.

  This was getting complicated. Her heart skipped an uneven beat and she put a quick damper on it. Ben’s shaggy sun-bleached hair and bright blue eyes were complemented perfectly by his bronzed skin. But she didn’t have time for… what? A relationship?

  Don’t even think about it.

  Besides, this wasn’t a date. This was a favor for Reese. She didn’t even want a guy. She dragged in a long breath and squared her shoulders. Tonight was all about letting Reese off the hook.

  Jake’s eyes swept over her, his elbow planted on the tabletop, his chin on his fist. “So, Allie, we all know Reese is a spoiled trust fund baby from L.A. What’s your story?”

  The organ beating overtime in her chest proved she wasn’t immune to his dark intensity. In desperation her gaze flew to Reese, who didn’t seem to notice she’d gone from celibate to slut in one fell swoop. A quick toe jab with the toe of her pump thankfully got her attention. “He’s sure got your number, Reese.”

  Reese turned her gaze back to the table. “Her ice scraper broke. She took it as a sign.” Reese snickered at her own joke.

  Allie merely shook her head. “I’m from Chicago. Got tired of the snow so I thought I’d learn to educate young minds in a warmer climate. Now I wear shorts in February.” She lifted her mug, took a sip. “My parents are teachers, too. They love it here so they moved to Arizona a year after I did.”

  Ben pulled back along the seat, let his hand trail along her shoulders. “How’d you meet Reese?”

  “We were assigned the same room freshman year.” She winked at Reese and got a toothy grin in response. Those memories were epic. “I never went to the beach before I went home with Reese.”

  Jake could easily picture Allie in one of those skin-baring string bikinis and held in a whimper. Or maybe he didn’t because both Ben and Reese were staring daggers at him.

  “What about you guys? Reese tells me you’ve been friends a long time.”

  The dim lighting had her eyes smoky. Ben’s palm swept across her shoulder and Jake’s shoulders stiffened in response. “Best friends since age five, don’t ask me why.” He forced himself to relax and as an apology tossed a half-hearted grin to Ben.

  “Wow, you have known each other a while.”

  Ben removed his arm and wrapped his hands around his mug, which was almost empty. “We played football and baseball together in high school, took State.”

  Good times, but he’d jab at him anyway. “Traffic jam on Memory Lane, Ben?”

  Embarrassed, Ben jerked a shrug. When he looked away he was distracted by Allie’s finger, idly tracing figure eights in the condensation on her mug.

  A guy had to know when to take advantage of a situation. Jake snatched up the conversational fumble and ran with it through the sounds of the band tuning up in the background. “Our parents are friends. We spent lots of weekends and vacations together over the years.”

  Recovered, Ben fought back for position. “We hit the lake in the summer, my dad has a great boat. You should come along some time.”

  He was hitting on her? Unbelievable. He shot a hot stare towards Ben, who was still talking. “When we were sixteen we got jobs digging ditches for Old Man Billings. Been with him ever since.”

  “But this was always our plan, the university.” For the love of God, why did he have this sudden need to one-up Ben? And why did Reese seem so amused by their pissing contest? Still, he was more than a jock who knew the business end of a shovel—and for some reason it was important Allie understand that. Like a bulldog, he muscled back into the conversation. “Then our own company, T-Squared Construction.”

  Allie furrowed her brow, her questioning gaze landing on Reese.

  Reese snapped her fingers in triumph. “I get it. It’s a play on your names and a T-square ruler.

  Ben grinned and nodded approvingly. “Ding. Ding. Give the girl a prize.”

  Ben’s hand unwrapped from his mug, slid off the table and landed… where? The idea of what it might be doing down there had Jake’s nerves thrumming. Best to turn his attention back to Allie. “How about you? Have you always wanted to teach?” Not his worry where Ben’s hands were. Not with Reese sitting right beside him. He hitched his arm across the back of the seat.

  “I love to teach. I guess it’s in my genes. Every day is different, and I love the kids. It’s like opening a classroom full of presents.” Her mischievous grin told him there was a worm on that hook.

  Okay, he’d bite. “How’s that?” And where the fuck were Ben’s hands?

  “Well, you can see what’s on the outside, but the inside is still a mystery.”

  A pair of towheaded boys chose that moment to race, howling, past the table. Allie rolled her eyes. “Kids like that I’d like to regift.”

  With a chuckle at her jest Ben glanced down at the hand he’d slid onto Allie’s lap. She had it trapped against the dark denim encasing those legs. Those legs that he could practically feel wrapped around his waist.

  Screeching feedback came through the speakers as the lead guitar announced their first set. Ah, next best thing. Flipping his palm up, he linked their fingers, cocked his head toward the dance floor. “Wanna dance?”

  Wordlessly he followed her onto the parquet floor. He let his palms ride on her hips as the aching ballad began, then pulled her in to him. He caught a whiff of her scent –sweet, light, intoxicating. He was getting a buzz from a chick. What the hell?

  Where was his tongue? He held off the panic and drew her closer. It must be there somewhere. Allie would surely expect conversation. Girls like to talk, right? But damned if he could find his tongue. Relying on habit, he lifted her hands to his shoulders and held them there.

  Like butter on hot toast she melted right into him. He liked girls with a little length on them. Preferred their headlights to hit him a little higher than his stomach. Her fingertips swept along the ends of the hair along his collar, and it tickled. He allowed his arms to loosen as she leaned back with a reckless smile.

  “You didn’t mention what position you play. Baseball.” She answered the pursing of his lips before he had a chance to ask what she meant.

  There it was, found it! He rejoiced as his tongue unglued itself and words finally came. “Number three on the score sheet.” She had that I have no idea what you’re talking about look again, but he could forgive her for not being a baseball groupie. Preferred it, actually. “First base.” He almost kept the wolfish grin in check.

  As he led her around the dance floor he got another whiff of springtime. Mindful of her stilts, he gave her a slow spin and pulled her in tight. The slow notes from the band filled the air.

  “Really? Oh. Um. Well.”

  Hah! Had her flustered. Did her head spin like his did, now that they were plastered together?

  Maybe. Her breath took a sharp hitch before she spoke.

  “You dance well for a… a guy.”

  “For a guy?” Ben mocked her, then tweaked her chin and laughed. “You started to say jock, didn’t you?”

  She fit comfortably in his arms, and it surprised him. Slow dancing was really not his thing, but somehow this was right. He gave her another twirl.

  “Busted.”

  Her laugh was breathy. How about that?

  “Did your mom make you take dance lessons when you were a kid?”

  “My dad.” In some misguided effort to be a mom, too. “What’s your excuse?”

  “Dance classes. Ballet, tap, jazz.”

  Yeah, he could picture her in a tight little leotard. Jesus.

  The song ended and another began. The music drifted, seeped through him. He let his hands glide across her back, and closed his eyes when her hands caressed his shoulders as the notes caressed them. He opened his eyes and lowered his chin to meet her gaze. Let his hands drift down her sides, settle low on her back. And damn if his heart didn’t trip.

  Yeah,
not his usual ‘hey, baby, let’s blow this joint.’

  Which was ridiculous, really, considering this wasn’t even a date.

  Jake led Reese off the dance floor to rejoin Allie and Ben, seated at their table. His gut clenched tight with what he recognized as shameful remorse. Along with a healthy dose of envy. Oh, Reese’s friend wasn’t beautiful with runway-model good looks, but she was certainly cute. Hell, he knew as much about saccharine prom queens as Ben did. This girl was the real deal.

  Her grin, those changeable eyes and the dimple in her cheek—other parts of his anatomy clenched at the image. But she was with Ben tonight. He scowled and cursed fate, wished he was with her instead.

  She wasn’t Ben’s type, even though he’d spent the evening stuck to her like a rash. Ben liked them blonde and eager, then gone. He blew out a slow breath. Damn if Ben wasn’t going to break this girl’s heart.

  Ben led Allie back to the table through the low light, hands clasped together, laughing and bouncing off nearby patrons as the pub got more and more crowded and the music throbbed. She was flush with excitement and the heat of the crowd and Jake found himself fidgeting nervously in his seat.

  Shoving aside the remains of her pizza, she picked up her beer and drained it, soft mewls of satisfaction vibrating in her throat.

  Jake sucked in his breath and slid his eyelids shut.

  Her empty mug hit the table. “It’s almost midnight, folks. Time for my carriage to turn into a pumpkin.” Her smile, though apologetic, had her dimple peeking through.

  “So early?” He wanted to beg her to stay. To dance with him. To ditch Ben and –. Crazy. It was all crazy. But so was the pressure in his chest.

  Reese sidled up to him, looped her arm through his elbow. Probably kept him from saying something really stupid. “Sure you can’t stay, Allie?”

  Allie wrapped her in a quick hug. “Not tonight, thanks. Got church in the morning. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.” She turned to face Ben, who stood beside her with his jaw tight, his hands shoved into his pockets. Her smile faltered. “I had a nice time. Thank you.”