by A. J. Pine
“Which is what?” she asked, her throat suddenly dry.
“That I envy you. How selfless you are to come here and do what you’re doing for Pearl. That I can learn a lot about becoming a better man from the good woman that you already are and have probably always been.”
She swallowed. “Ben, I—”
He raised a brow. “I wasn’t done.”
She made a motion of zipping her lips, terrified yet desperate to hear what he said next.
“I’d wrap your skirt around your legs and then pull them over my knees like this.” He demonstrated, and now she was sitting perpendicular to him, her knees over his, and her heart ready to burst from her chest or stop beating altogether.
How was it that only weeks ago she was fine knowing nothing more about this man than what it was like to sleep naked pressed up against him. For the record, it was really, really nice. But now she found herself fantasizing about what would happen after they woke up together the next morning. Would they indulge their physical needs and then go their separate ways like they’d done before, or would they linger with their legs entwined as he peppered her neck with soft kisses and told her about his hopes and dreams?
“And then,” he continued, bringing her back to the moment, “I’d tell you that I never talked to anyone before the way I talked to you tonight. That you make me feel seen in a way no one ever has before. That maybe I can be better at this whole grown-up thing if you believe I can.”
Her eyes widened, and her breath caught in her throat.
Didn’t he see what a good man he already was and maybe had always been? She wanted to tell him, wanted to show him, and that was when all thinking went out the window.
She grabbed his shirt collar in her hands and tugged him toward her, her lips crashing against his.
This was the only way to keep her from admitting to him that this didn’t feel like a game or playing pretend. It didn’t feel like they were doing this to appease Pearl so that she wouldn’t worry about Charlotte for the time she was here. Every touch of his lips against hers simply felt right.
She parted her lips, and he slipped his tongue inside, and she could have sworn it was the Fourth of July instead of the preface to a California winter.
He slid his hand up her thigh, and a chill rocked through her all the way to her bones.
“You’re freezing,” he said, and she only pulled him closer.
Logic told her that it had been a mild evening, temps still in the high fifties. But goose bumps peppered her skin despite the warmth in her belly.
“Come here,” he said softly, and pulled her fully onto his lap. Then he grabbed the blanket Pearl left folded on the swing and wrapped it around them. “How’s this?” he asked.
She nodded, her forehead leaning against his. “It’s good,” she said. “Really good.”
“It really is,” Ben said.
He kissed her again, then shifted their position so her head was snuggled into the crook of his neck, which was an immediate cure for her shivers.
“There,” he said, and she could hear a smile in his voice. “Now you only owe me once more.”
She laughed but didn’t respond, not sure if it was wise to discuss how she might repay him for the second favor he’d already done for her.
They stayed that way for a while, no kissing or talking or anything other than his body molded around hers.
It was easy, just like talking to him about her grandfather had been. Easy because they were friends now. And nothing more. This was all for show.
Or maybe this was what it felt like to have Ben Callahan as a friend—easy, comfortable, warm. With just a touch of her heart doing an extra pitter and maybe an extra patter.
She shifted to the side, putting the tiniest space between them, giving herself what she hoped was room enough to settle her pulse and her breathing before heading back inside.
Ben must have gotten the hint.
“Good night, Doc,” he finally said when someone had to say something. “We should do this again sometime. But I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon or evening for the First Street Trick-or-Treat. Looking forward to seeing you in costume.”
“Wait, what?” she asked, her mental faculties now on full alert. “Costume? Trick-or-treating?” She pulled out her phone and checked the date. He was right. Tomorrow was, in fact, Halloween. “No one told me anything about…” She trailed off as she scrolled through her Notes app, looking for one of her many lists. Then she gasped. “Get candy for First Street Trick-or-Treat.” Her eyes widened as she sprang up from the swing. “I didn’t get the candy. I have to go. I have to find someplace outside of town that’s still open. I have to…” She leaned down and kissed him again. “Good night! Thank you for the…the date and the wine and the— Good night!”
And she ran back into the inn, slamming the door behind her, squeezing her eyes shut and leaning against it to catch her breath.
“Nice night?” she heard her grandmother say, then opened her eyes to see Pearl and Tyler staring at her.
She nodded. “Great. Perfect. A dream come true. But I forgot tomorrow was Halloween!”
She ran past them toward her room to grab the keys to Gran’s car.
Despite being totally unprepared for tomorrow’s holiday, she was grateful for a task that needed completing.
Go to store. Buy candy. Bring candy home.
That was simple. Simple she could handle. Like prescribing an antibiotic to cure an infection. What she couldn’t handle was the thing that was becoming more and more abundantly clear.
Charlotte North had some bold-faced feelings for this cowboy that couldn’t be explained in her favorite medical journals. How the heck was she going to cure that?
Chapter Eleven
The ranch only had one family with young kids, and Ben had volunteered to be the one to take them to town for the festivities.
“I am not going to fight you for this one,” Sam said as they helped clean up the dining hall after dinner. They’d pushed dinner service an hour earlier to save daylight for anyone going to town even though they knew the streets would be lit and shops open late to dole out candy to any and all who came by.
“But if anyone’s giving out Heath bars,” Delaney chimed in, “please bring me one—or twenty—back. They’re my favorite. And oh my gosh they are so amazing crushed and sprinkled over some good vanilla ice cream. Do we have any ice cream? I so have a taste for ice cream right now.”
She looked at Sam imploringly, and he laughed.
“You sure are sexy when you’re ravenous,” he teased. “I think Luis might have something hiding in the freezer we can borrow.”
“Not the homemade stuff!” Luis called from across the kitchen, where he was packing up unused produce from the evening. “That’s for guests only! You can grab the store-bought I keep for backup.”
Sam laughed and headed toward the cooler. “Wouldn’t think of skimming from the good stuff,” he called back, then winked at Delaney and kissed her on the cheek. “I’m totally skimming from the good stuff.”
Delaney laughed, and her cheeks turned pink.
“Okay,” Ben said to her. “Honest opinion on the costume?”
He’d come to dinner ready to head straight to First Street as soon as he, Sam, and Delaney helped the kitchen staff clean up. They’d been so busy that no one had said a word about what he was wearing.
Delaney narrowed her gaze. “You’re wearing a costume? I guess I just thought you had some sort of shady business meeting after dinner.”
Ben rolled his eyes and she laughed.
“Okay. Okay. Um…is it from a movie?” she asked.
He grinned.
“Oh! I got it! Neo from The Matrix. I guess I didn’t take you for a sci-fi fan, but I like it!”
He groaned. “I do like sci-fi, especially if George Lucas is involved, but no. Not The Matrix. Think more twenty-first century. More big franchise. More…villain.” He raised his brows.
She stared at him again, her expression blank for several long moments.
“Um…Professor Snape?” she guessed.
“Wrong again,” he said. “Forget it. I have to head out.” He hadn’t worn a Halloween costume since middle school, so it was either pull what he could from his closet or go as a rancher, which wasn’t exactly a costume at all. For the first time in who knew how long, Ben Callahan was putting forth effort and trying to get into the damn spirit of the thing.
“At least give me a hint,” Delaney said, trying to suppress a laugh, which only made him more irritated that he’d put any effort forth at all.
“Good night, Delaney,” he said, rather than giving her the satisfaction of an actual reply. “Make sure Sam doesn’t get lost in the cooler.”
“Say hi to Charlotte!” she called after him as he pivoted toward the door that connected the kitchen to the dining hall and promptly left—almost tripping over his brother’s dog, Scout, who was curled up just outside the door, along with Sam and Delaney’s cat, Butch. “Where the hell did they come from?” he mumbled to himself as he headed out the main door and to his truck, where Mr. and Mrs. Hastings—along with their six-year-old son and eight-year-old daughter—were waiting for a lift into town.
“Evening, Hastings family,” Ben said with his patented customer-service grin. Then he dropped to a squat in front of the two children.
“Let me guess,” he said to Kyle, the young boy, who wore a bright yellow onesie, replete with a pointy-eared hood. “Pikachu?”
Kyle’s cheeks turned bright pink as he nodded bashfully.
“And you are…” He studied Kara, Kyle’s sister, who wore jeans, a flannel shirt, the cutest little cowboy boots he’d ever seen, and the straw cowboy hat he’d given her the day before at her riding lesson. “Are you the new trail rider we hired earlier this week? Because you look just like a rancher to me.”
If Kyle had blushed when Ben guessed his costume, then Kara went full crimson.
“Can I, Mom?” she asked, turning to look up at Mrs. Hastings. “Can I get hired as their new rancher?”
The woman laughed. “Maybe, sweetheart, when you’re a little bit older.”
Kara pouted for a brief moment until Ben opened the door to the truck’s back seat.
“You come back here when you’re old enough for the job, Kara, and we’ll have a position waiting for you,” Ben said as he helped her into the cab.
She beamed as she buckled her seat belt and her brother climbed in after her.
“I think she has a little crush,” Mrs. Hastings said. Then she looked Ben up and down. “Professor Snape!” she said. “We love Harry Potter!”
He resisted rolling his eyes at yet another wrong guess and simply said, “Sure. Snape,” before climbing into the front seat along with Mr. Hastings.
It was a quick ride into town, only a few minutes, but the comment brought him right back into the kitchen with Delaney.
He wasn’t sure what was eating at him more, her teasing him about his barely-a-costume costume or the fact that she knew he’d put forth whatever effort he had for the good doctor.
Last night had been…unexpected. He’d been prepared to woo, under the guise of putting on a show for Pearl. But it hadn’t exactly been a guise for him. Not that Charlotte needed to know that. Still, she’d gone and opened up to him, making it so easy for him to do the same, like it was what they’d been doing all along. How much of that was her trying to fill the minutes, and how much of it was simply them?
That kiss last night. That kiss. He’d had to hightail it off that porch before he did something stupid like drop to one knee and propose.
He was quickly learning the difference between telling himself he was ready for something more and actually starting to feel that something more.
Ben wasn’t prepared for the lines between fiction and reality to already feel blurred. Tonight he’d get a handle on things. Tonight he’d remind himself that whatever was happening between himself and Charlotte was simply an arrangement, much like the one they’d made the first time they met. He’d promised Pearl he wouldn’t break her granddaughter’s heart, but it wasn’t Charlotte’s heart he was worried about.
All the way into town, he told himself that kiss wasn’t real no matter how spectacular it had been. When he parked his truck in front of the inn, he let the Hastings out to start their trick-or-treating. Then he looked in his rearview mirror and said the words out loud.
“Not real, Callahan. Not. Real.”
Local trick-or-treaters lined First Street, where shop owners had kept the lights on, the doors open, and buckets full of candy for the taking.
Ben and his guests agreed to meet up in ninety minutes to head back to the ranch. After allowing himself only a few seconds of hesitation, he strode up the steps to the inn, where a woman clad all in black, including knee-high black boots that hugged her calves over tight black jeans, stood doling out full-sized candy bars to a posse of Disney princesses, her auburn hair hanging loose at her shoulders.
He crossed his arms as he watched her greet each child, complimenting them on their costumes, her red lips parted in a smile that—were he not aware that the two of them were only playing at being a couple—would have knocked the wind straight from his chest.
She noticed him only after the princesses scampered back down to the sidewalk and began to laugh.
“Loki from the New York scene in Thor: Ragnarok?” she asked, incredulous.
He raised a brow. “And Black Widow from any Marvel film ever.”
Her eyes widened. “Do you know how many people have been asking me if I’m Trinity from The Matrix? Has no one seen anything new in the past twenty years? I mean, no offense to some good ol’ late nineties philosophical sci-fi, but come on.”
Ben laughed and glanced down at his own attire. “Happy Halloween from—according to everyone else—either Neo or Professor Snape.”
She pulled a Kit Kat from a jack-o’-lantern bucket that was slung over her wrist and offered it to him.
“Compensation for a valiant effort gone awry?” she asked with a half-smile.
That smile. He’d seen it before and it had even been directed at him. But it was different now. The smiles she’d offered him the first time around usually happened after he’d brought her to the height of pleasure and she’d done the same for him. Smiling and offering him chocolate when all he’d done was show up? It somehow felt better earned, which sort of scared the hell out of him.
“Only if you share it with me,” he said, accepting her offer and then making himself comfortable on the porch swing. This was uncharted territory that made him feel unsteady on his feet. He needed to sit. To get his bearings. So he patted the spot next to him, but his mind brought him right back to last night—Charlotte in his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck.
This wasn’t helping.
Come on, Callahan. It’s nothing more than sitting on a porch swing with a woman you like. You’ve sat next to attractive women before. Plus, there are plenty of children around to remind you that you and said attractive woman are NOT alone. So stop thinking about her lips and your lips and how well they fit together.
He shook his head and laughed quietly to himself, warding off the urge to put on a repeat performance, this time for quite a large audience.
We should do this again sometime, he’d said, when what he’d really meant was We should do this all the time, Doc. Tonight. Tomorrow night. And all the nights to come until he convinced her that maybe he was worth more than two months of her life. That maybe they were worth more than their original no-strings-attached arrangement or a pretend relationship for the benefit of Charlotte’s grandmother.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.
This was not how to mentally persuade himself to take a step back. This was…it was…He had feelings for her.
Oh shit.
“Did I miss something funny?” she asked, sliding into her reserved spot and knocking her knee playfully against
his.
He unwrapped the Kit Kat, broke off half, and handed it to her.
“This is just weirdly easy, isn’t it?” he asked, taking a bite. Because the hanging out part was. They’d fallen into what felt like a real friendship in a matter of days. Ben just had some extra emotions, it seemed, tied into said friendship.
“Eating chocolate?” she asked, biting off a piece of her share. “Can’t think of anything easier. I truly don’t understand people who say they don’t like it. Chocolate is the best thing next to, I don’t know, really spectacular sex, I guess.”
He almost choked on his candy.
She laughed. “Sorry. I couldn’t think of a better comparison. But come to think of it, I’ve probably had chocolate that was better than some of the physical encounters I’ve had.”
This was a hint, right? She was hinting this all felt different for her, too, that she was thinking about more than just kissing because that kiss…had he mentioned that kiss?
Good Lord, he was losing his mind and with it all of his game.
He shook his head and chuckled, then rocked the swing back and forth with his heels.
“No, Doc. I wasn’t talking about the chocolate. I was talking about this.” He motioned between the two of them. “Us. Sitting here in our stupid costumes that no one gets—except us—eating candy and talking about the merits of chocolate and sex. Though I’m going on the record to say that nothing rivals spectacular sex.”
She raised her brows. “Not even, say, Nutella?”
He crossed his feet on the porch in front of him and grinned. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Doc, but couldn’t those two work hand in hand for an entirely different sort of spectacular experience?”
She cleared her throat, and her cheeks turned pink. “You were saying something about us sitting here…”
He laughed. She wasn’t easily rattled, but he sure did enjoy when he was successful at it.
“I was just wondering,” he said, “if you like this friendship thing between us as much as I do. I mean, I’m already game for taking you to dinner on the regular and making sure Pearl doesn’t try to marry you off. But the kissing part of last night’s make-believe wasn’t too shabby, if I do say so myself.”