CAITLYN WASN’T SURE how she’d ended up sitting next to Ben in Dan’s truck on the way to the dance. One minute she’d been chatting with Mia and the next Ben had ushered her into a seat, then climbed in beside her. He didn’t speak to her on the trip into town but she was all too aware of his muscular body pressed against her. Sarah sat up front with Dan, and Mia and her husband, Luke, crowded into the back seat with Caitlyn and Ben. When the truck went over a bump, Caitlyn nearly landed in Ben’s lap.
He took her hand and her breath hitched. She waited for him to drop it again, but he held on, his large fingers nearly enveloping hers. They were warm and gentle—somehow comforting. She didn’t know what his touch meant, but she knew she liked it.
When he leaned close and brushed a kiss against her hair, Caitlyn closed her eyes and wondered if he’d really done that or if she was dreaming. Her fingers tightened involuntarily and he squeezed her hand in reply. With her heart beating double-time in her chest, Caitlyn could barely breathe the rest of the way into town. Had Mia been right—had Ben’s outburst on the course been caused by his embarrassment over his fall?
If so, she’d be glad to put the incident behind them and move forward. She wanted to get to know Ben, but only if he understood she’d never see him as less of a man because he’d been injured. On the contrary, knowing he’d been hurt while serving his country made him more of a man in her eyes.
When they pulled up in front of the community center where the dance was taking place, Ben helped her out of the truck as if she was precious to him. Caitlyn couldn’t remember the last time a man had shown her such gentle care and she felt like she was floating rather than walking inside to the ticket counter and coat check.
As their friends grouped around the ticket booth, laughing and joking with the young woman running it, Ben tugged her aside. “You’re a sight for sore eyes tonight.”
“You clean up pretty well yourself.” He looked more than good in a pair of black jeans, boots and a neatly pressed white shirt that buttoned up the front. But then Ben would look good no matter what he wore.
Or didn’t wear.
She wondered if her thoughts were plain to see on her face. Judging by Ben’s grin, she guessed they were.
“I’m sorry—for what I said earlier,” he began.
“Don’t worry about that.”
“I am worried about it.” He cut her off. “Let me have my say, Caitlyn.”
She waited uncomfortably, not wanting to make him go through with the apology.
“It’s been hard to get used to this.” He frowned down at his ankle. “I can’t help wondering why me sometimes, but I’m going to get past that. I swear I’m going to stop feeling sorry for myself and get back to being the man I know I can be.”
When she opened her mouth to speak, he took both her hands. “Hold on, now. Let me say it all. I don’t apologize much; better make the most of it.” He caught her gaze. “This injury makes me angry sometimes, but I had no call to take that out on you. I lied back there. Making it to the top of the salmon ladder was the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time, and not just because it proves I can still do it. Because it meant I was going to get to spend the evening with you. That’s all I want right now.”
“I want that too.” She wanted to match Ben’s honesty with her own. She wanted him to be clear exactly how she felt.
“Good.” His smile sent flutters through her. “Come on, let’s go have some fun.”
Chapter Eight
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BEN ENJOYED HIMSELF at the dance far more than he’d expected to. Their large group claimed several tables on the periphery of the room, so even when he couldn’t dance to the faster country songs the band was playing, he had plenty of company to talk to while he watched the others.
He assured Caitlyn he didn’t mind if she danced with other partners. He wanted her to have a good time and he could tell from the tapping of her toes that she was eager to join in. Mia’s husband, Luke, was the first to ask her for a dance and after that, the other women’s husbands took turns squiring her around the floor. After each number she came back to check on him, though, and when the music finally turned slower, he stood up.
“My turn.”
“Are you sure it’s all right?” Caitlyn took his hand but concern furrowed her brow.
“I can handle a slow dance.” He tugged her out onto the floor and pulled her close. She came into his embrace eagerly enough to put to rest his fears she might have found one of her other dance partners more appealing. As her arms circled his neck, he put his hands low on her hips and tugged her tight against him. With her cheek pressed against his shoulder, he felt like he’d finally come home.