“Yeah. I know.”
She grabbed her plate from the kitchen and slid into the booth across from him. She looked into his eyes, clouded with doubt, and the tension line between his brows, the way he dragged the tines of his fork across the chocolate, like it was some dessert version of a zen sand garden. It struck her that she wasn’t looking at Ben Morrison, super star. This was just Ben, an ordinary man, albeit a very sexy one, sitting in her kitchen, not eating pie.
“It was my job not only to pretend to be okay, but to be someone else. All the time. On set, and off—in interviews, when the paparazzi circled. I was always Ben Morrison, the star. The product.” He finally took a small bite of pie. “I think I just lost track of who I wanted to be.”
“Who do you want to be?” she asked.
He sat back and grinned wryly. “I have no idea. So, I ran away.”
“I think that’s a wise plan.” Amy smiled as he shot her an incredulous look.
“I have no plan.”
“I disagree.” She scooped up the last of the crust. “You gave yourself room to breathe. You reconnected with your true friends, the ones who help keep you rooted. You didn’t feel right about that slimy agent, and God knows your assistant was a total bitch. So, you fired them. You have an idea for a screenplay, for which I’m totally taking credit for inspiring and encouraging you to do, by the way. And now, you’re eating excellent pie, if I do say so myself.”
He tilted his head, considering this. “I think you’re giving me more credit than I deserve.”
“No, you’re being too hard on yourself,” she countered. “You didn’t end up in this position overnight, now did you? So you can’t expect to fix it overnight. Believe me, when I ended up here on this island in what was then a very run down inn with all my earthly belongings and not knowing a single soul, I felt like I was doing the stupidest thing I’d ever done. What was I thinking? I’d never run a business, not to mention only stayed in a B&B maybe twice in my entire life. And, I was still grieving.” She shrugged, met his glance. “But deep down, it felt right in a way I could never explain.”
Ben sighed. “You’re right. I know it doesn’t make sense, what I’m doing. But I’ll say this—I’m sleeping better than I have in years. And the writing…I forgot just how much I love it.”
Amy nodded. “There you go.”
They sat in companionable silence for a minute as the rain pounded down outside. Amy eyed the porch, which was getting a dusting of wet leaves and made a mental note to sweep it off tomorrow. She looked up to find Ben watching her. His gaze zeroed in on her mouth, and she felt that damn blush moving into her cheeks.
“I’ll just get these out of the way,” she said, reaching for his plate as she stood up. Ben rose as well and laid a hand on her wrist. She stopped, met his eyes. They had darkened to a deeper blue than normal, she noticed, fascinated.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” he said. His thumb caressed the inside of her wrist, and her pulse jumped wildly.
“Oh,” was all she could say.
They stared at each other, tension building until Amy noticed she was unconsciously leaning towards him, as if she was a puppet drawn by a string.
“Um.” She cleared her throat. “I have a policy against getting involved with guests. It’s just not a good idea.”
“Do you usually sit and eat pie with your guests in the kitchen? At…” he checked his watch. “Almost ten o clock?”
“No,” she admitted with a slight smile. He was caressing the pad of her thumb now and just that simple act was melting her bones.
“We’re alone. We probably will be a lot in the coming weeks,” he pointed out. “Might as well come out with it instead of tiptoeing around what we’re both thinking and feeling.”
“Duly noted.” She swallowed and told herself to look away from his mouth.
He leaned in, close, closer until she could feel his warm breath on her lips. Back away, the sane part of her mind warned her while the entire rest of her body was urging her to grab his shirt, haul him closer and devour him. Hell with it, she thought, and closed the distance between them. His hands framed her face as he nibbled on her lips, causing her breath to catch. She stretched sinuously against him—oh God, she could feel him growing hard through his jeans, and she arched up into him, moaning as his mouth traveled down her neck. He shuddered and backed her up against the counter, returning to ravish her mouth. She moaned again as their tongues met and tangled. By the time he pulled his mouth from hers, they were both breathless.
“God, Amy,” he muttered, and in one swift move, he lifted her up onto the counter.
She wrapped her legs around him and let her head fall back limply as he laid a trail of open mouthed kisses down her throat, impatiently unbuttoning her shirt as he went until he could slip his tongue under her bra. Amy arched back and unclasped her bra for him, and he groaned.
“So beautiful.” His hands came up to gently caress her breasts, teasing her nipples into soft peaks while his mouth once again devoured hers as if he needed her more than air.
When he replaced his hands with his mouth, first on one nipple, then the other, Amy grabbed his head and pressed him close, practically panting, she was so turned on.
“Don’t stop,” she breathed, and he kept teasing her nipple with his tongue, biting her gently. She convulsed, feeling like she was about to come when he’d barely even touched her.
She watched in the bright kitchen lights as he began slowly making his way down her body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. With every fiber of her being, Amy wanted nothing more than to rip his clothes off, shimmy out of her pants and have sex right there on the kitchen counter, but one annoying thread of sanity nagged at her brain. This was so not her. She didn’t jump into bed right away with a hot guy who was going to be leaving in a few weeks. Who the hell cares, she thought as his fingers—oh God—slid down her pants and past the edge of her underwear. But, even though all coherent thought was about to leave her, that practical voice wouldn’t shut up.
Almost as if he read her mind, Ben stopped, and despite herself—her body really wasn’t listening—Amy arched up, trying to press against his fingers. He moaned.
“You’re killing me, Amy.” Ben reluctantly withdrew his hand and kissed her, for what seemed like an eternity. Not that she was complaining. The man could kiss.
“I really wasn’t planning on taking you right here in the kitchen.” He leaned his forehead on hers. “I was going to seduce you first.”
Amy let out a weak laugh. “That wasn’t seduction? God, you’re the one killing me!”
“Not that kind of seduction,” Ben protested. “You know, flowers, romance…”
“All that shit?” Amy suggested dryly when he trailed off.
He pulled away a little and arched his brow. “Come on. You’re not the type of woman who has one night stands. And, despite my reputation, I usually like to get to know the women I sleep with.”
Amy let out a deep sigh, and Ben laughed. “My thoughts exactly.” He held out a hand, and helped her off the counter. “I’m sorry.”
“You kissed my brains out, and I kissed you right back,” Amy retorted, buttoning up her shirt. “Be sorry about the fact that I was pretty much running out of reasons not to have sex with you right here, right now.” She smiled sweetly at him and held out a hand when his eyes darkened, and he stepped towards her. “But, you’re right. Thank you for being a gentleman.”
“Being a gentleman sucks,” Ben said and frowned when she laughed. “You have a mean streak, don’t you? Come on, I’ll walk you home.”
“I am home.”
“A gentleman always walks a lady to her door,” he said with a slight bow. “If that’s okay.”
She tilted her head, considering him. “You’re not coming inside.”
“I know, I know,” he said with a sigh. “Dream killer.”
Laughing, she led the way to the stairs. “That’s me.”
“Thi
s is probably against one of your rules,” he said as they made their way up to the third floor. “A guest on the third floor.”
“Yes, it is,” she said, looking over her shoulder. “So is making out in the kitchen.”
“Let me be the first to thank you for breaking that rule,” he said, as they walked down her hallway. He looked around with interest. “Of all people, I understand the need for privacy. And, people’s nosiness. I hope you lock your doors up here.”
She withdrew the key ring from her pocket, and he nodded approval. She stopped at her door and unlocked it. He nudged her aside and peered in.
“I’m not crossing the threshold,” he pointed out when she shoved him back. “Nosy, remember?” He surveyed the room, and smiled. “Nice. Looks like you.”
“I like it.” She looked up at him. “Good night, Ben.”
“Thanks for letting me walk you home.” He smiled down at her and damn if he wasn’t just too cute. “Also, for letting me eat pie and tell you my sad sob story. And, for showing me your excellent breasts.”
She laughed. “Anytime.”
“It’s not going to be weird between us now, is it?” He seemed genuinely concerned, and damn it, that was cute too. “Because I plan on seducing you. Just so you know.”
He leaned in without warning, his hands sliding around her waist, his lips fastening on hers. No playful nibbles this time, but a hot, hungry feasting, and she found herself wrapping her arms around his neck and answering him back avidly. God. His skin was hot and smelled of the rain, and his hands roamed over her back, cupped her butt and pulled her in close.
“Good night, Amy.” He brushed a soft kiss across her forehead and released her. “Sleep well.”
“You, too.” And turning, she shut the door in his face before she grabbed his shirt and yanked him inside. Amy heard him chuckle softly as he walked away, and she blew out a breath, leaning against the door, a hand over her pounding heart.
Sleep well? Not a chance in hell.
Chapter 15
“You are not climbing up on my roof.” Amy trailed behind Ben, who had hoisted her extension ladder over his shoulder and trudged through her yard, shoes squelching in mud.
“I’m not climbing up onto it,” he called over his shoulder. “Just the ladder.”
They rounded the corner into the backyard. Branches littered the grass from the previous night’s storm. Amy winced again at the sight of the once-towering evergreen that now slumped into the side of On the Sound. A long strip of gutter dangled from its branches, and she was fairly certain that the tree had landed in the same spot where it had leaked the first winter she’d arrived on the Island. She’d had it repaired, but it’d been before she met Tom, and the work had always seemed a bit shoddy to her. Still, it hadn’t leaked again, but it was now.
“I know exactly what I’m looking for.” Amy tried to wrestle the ladder from him, and to her surprise, Ben let her.
“So do I.” He reached over and helped her hold it steady as she cranked it slowly up to the roofline. “I worked in construction a couple of summers.”
Amy blew her bangs out of her eyes. “Seriously, Ben. I appreciate the help, and it’s not that I think I’m some Superwoman who can handle everything…but…”
“But you’re Superwoman who can handle this?” He gave her a lightening fast grin and leaned down to plant a kiss on her lips. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”
And, before she could even react, he shoved her aside and planting his feet firmly on the rungs, began climbing up with sure strides, the blue tarp she’d grabbed from the garage draped over his shoulder.
Amy felt her cheeks flush with temper, and she took deep breaths, trying to calm herself. She steadied the ladder as he got higher and glared up at him. Then, had to smile. The view was excellent. After a few more minutes, as he reached the top and busied himself lifting up branches to get a better view of the damage, she had to wonder why she was so irritated. After all, she wasn’t a huge fan of heights. She was tired—after tossing and turning for a few hours following their kitchen make out session, she’d heard a huge crash. It was easy enough to see out the window what had happened and after a quick look around inside the attic to determine the whole roof hadn’t caved in, she’d decided not to venture out into the cold, windy, wet and very dark middle of the night to investigate further. Instead, she’d lain awake for three more hours before she fell back into a restless sleep, listening to the wind howl as she fretted about how bad it was, whether another tree would fall, and trying to figure out how this unexpected—and most likely very expensive—repair would fit into her budget.
So, really, Ben—who evidently had worked off his sexual frustration by plugging in his earbuds, blasting music and working on his screenplay—was doing her a huge favor by checking it out. Let’s face it, she admitted, the man just got under her skin.
“Yep, as I suspected.” Tarp secured over the damage, Ben clambered down the ladder. “There’s a hole in your roof.”
Amy let go of the ladder once he hit the ground and put her hands on her hips. “Wow. You could charge for that kind of advice, Harry Handyman.”
Ben draped an arm around her shoulder and led her back to the deck. “You should switch to coffee. You’d be less grumpy in the morning.”
Amy started to snap that she wasn’t grumpy and then realized snapping at him would prove his point, so she settled into silence. He snuck a look over at her and smiled.
“Okay, okay, I’d be grumpy too if I had a hole in my roof. I don’t think it’s that bad. It’s a small hole, and my guess is that the shingles need to be replaced, the flashing repaired, and the gutter, too. Then, of course, you’ll need someone to cut up that tree, unless you have a chainsaw handy.”
The image of Ben, shirtless, wielding a chainsaw, muscles gleaming in the rain, flashed through Amy’s head, and when she shook her head, it was with regret.
“I’ll have to go into the village. I couldn’t reach Tom earlier—odds are he’s there fixing storm damage.”
Ben trailed behind her as she strode through the inn, stopping by the coat hook to grab her raincoat. “I’ll come. I’m craving one of Hannah’s muffins.”
“I’m driving,” Amy said firmly. “I may need to ferry over to Friday Harbor to pick up supplies.”
Ben shrugged. “Fine by me.” He tromped through the puddles and beat her to the driver’s side, where he pulled the door open with a flourish. “Your chariot awaits, madam.”
Amy bit back a small smile. The man was just so damn charming. She sighed when he leaned in and brushed a soft kiss across her lips, then another, then lingered over the third until her worry about the roof receded into a dim corner of her mind.
“You smell like the rain.” He’d borrowed one of the floppy yellow rain hats she kept on hand for the guests and should have looked ridiculous, but somehow still managed to look sexy with rain dripping off the rim of the hat, his jaw unshaven, evidence of his sleepless night in the dark circles under his cheerful eyes. “Smells good.” He kissed her again, and Amy felt herself melting into to him.
She pushed him back. “Hole in my roof. Priorities. Get in the truck, or we’ll be here all day.”
He grinned at her and loped around the truck while she started the engine. They drove into town, and he chatted about his screenplay, which he’d altered from his original idea—the main character, Liam, was a James Bond type who decided to retire early. Imagine his surprise when he arrives on Lopez to find one of the bad guys who got away, also living on the Island, also claiming that he’s retired. The resulting push and pull of, “let each other live in peace or kill each other” would be both comedy, action and a reflection on the gray area that so often haunted the clandestine operations Liam had taken part in during his career. Was the bad guy really a bad guy? Or, was it Liam’s own government?
He knew how to weave a story, that was for sure, Amy reflected as they entered the village. He’d summed up the main conflict, sketch
ed out the key characters, and talked about much of the plotline in the measly 10 minutes it took to drive to the village—and she was fascinated to hear more.
Amy spotted Tom’s truck parked in front of Hannah’s bakery. Ben hopped out of her truck before it had barely stopped running and to her amusement, raced around so he could open her door and take her hand to help her out.
“My, my, aren’t you a gentleman?” Amy tilted her head, studying him. “Is this part of the seduction?”
He backed her up against the truck with a devilish grin. “No, but this is.” Just as he started to lower his head, Amy stuck out a hand to hold him off.
“No thanks, mister.” She wiggled away and sighed in resignation when Hannah, Nell, Tom and a few other customers quickly scattered away from the bakery window where they’d had their noses all but pressed up against the glass. “Now you’ve done it. The whole village is going to think we’re sleeping together.”
Ben stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Does that upset you?”
Amy thought about it for a moment, shrugged. “I’m used to the small town gossip, just not being the subject of it. But, what the hell. Life is short.” She whirled, grabbed his shirt and hauled him in, all but devoured him and had the satisfaction of leaving him as breathless as she was. “If I’m going to be the talk of the town then I want the story to be a damn good one.”
Ben stared at her for a moment, looking a bit shell-shocked and then let out a laugh. “All right then.” To her shock, he picked her up and hauled her over his shoulder, caveman style, into the bakery, while she shrieked with laughter.
“Put me down!” She pounded on his back and shaking with laughter, he swung her back down as if she weighed nothing.
“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” Nell drawled from the armchair near the fire. She was draped over it sideways and lazily swung her foot back and forth.
Hannah just stared, mouth slightly open, before recovering. “Um, can I get you two something?”
Love on the Sound Page 21