“Thanks, Dr. Phil.”
Uninsulted, Jack smiled.
Ben didn’t. “I’m not getting involved with Aubrey.”
Now Jack laughed.
“Shut up. I’m not.”
“Okay. But you’re involved. Everyone knows it but you. Have you seen Facebook lately? Lucky Harbor’s favorite son—you—has a poll up on whether or not you should settle down with Aubrey. Odds aren’t in her favor at the moment.”
“Jesus.” Ben wasn’t amused by this. By any of it. “People need to mind their own business. Aubrey could do way better than me. And we have sex,” he said bluntly. “That’s not the same thing as being involved. Not everyone has the future on their minds, like you and Luke suddenly do.”
“I like her,” Jack said, no longer amused, either. “A lot. But I’m not saying marry her. I’m saying just relax a little bit and enjoy being back here in Lucky Harbor. Enjoy having a woman who looks at you the way she does. And you look at her, too, you know. I’ve seen you with those moon eyes.”
“Yeah?” Ben asked. “Well, shoot me next time.”
Jack ignored this. “I think it’s fair to say I know you like no one else does. This thing with Aubrey is different, and you know it.”
Ben thought of how she’d been trying to make a difference, giving the seniors a place to go, giving anyone who needed it a place to go. Hell, she was even excited about working with troubled teens. He thought about how she felt in his arms, how she made him feel in hers—like he was the best man she knew and the only one she wanted. She moved him at every turn, without even trying.
And he knew Jack was right. This thing, this…whatever it was that they were doing, it was different.
And different was terrifying. And he wasn’t ready to fall in love. He’d been there, done that, and it had flattened him. “I’ve told her, and now I’ll tell you,” he said. “I’m not looking for a committed relationship. I don’t have it in me right now.”
“Whatever you say, man.” Jack rose and snapped his fingers at Kevin.
Kevin squeezed his eyes tight and pretended to be asleep.
Ben found a laugh after all. “Leave him.”
“He ate chili tonight at the firehouse.”
“Take him,” Ben said.
Kevin sighed and jumped off Ben’s lap, farting as he did so.
“Thanks,” Ben said, waving the air in front of his face as he rose too.
“Yeah, should’ve warned you,” Jack said. “He’s got some serious hang time with those.” Jack gave Ben a look that said they weren’t closing the file on this subject.
Ben opened the door. “I’m okay, you know. I’m fine on my own.”
Jack met his gaze. “Yeah. But you’ve been on your own a long time. Maybe it’s time to try something new.”
Chapter 22
Once again Aubrey woke up to a text message that was making her phone vibrate on her nightstand. But this one was from Ben and read:
In the shop.
Odd, she thought. He’d never felt the need to announce his presence to her before. In fact, he seemed to get a kick out of surprising her.
A glance at her clock told her that she had half an hour to get up and get out to water Mr. Wilford’s pumpkin patch—which still wasn’t growing yet, damn it—and be back here to open on time.
But the text was making her curious. Rolling out of bed, she tiptoed down the stairs to see what he might be doing that he’d found it necessary to warn her about.
He was sitting on the counter in front of the coffee and tea station, sipping from a to-go cup from Leah’s bakery. She could tell by his clothes—slacks and a button-down shirt topped by a jacket—that he was going to his job. His real job. She’d seen him in jeans and a tool belt covered in sawdust, and she liked that look a lot. She’d also seen him in nothing. That particular memory gave her a flash of heat, because Ben in nothing was the hottest thing she’d ever seen. That was definitely her favorite look, but seeing him like this, a little dressed up, his broad shoulders stretching his dress shirt to its limits, the top button undone, his tie still loose, as though he weren’t quite ready to settle into work for the day, did something serious to her insides.
Get a grip. She tiptoed closer, wanting to catch him unawares, the way he always caught her. Two feet from him, she was grinning widely, like an idiot, her hands outstretched to scare him, when he suddenly twisted and locked eyes on her.
“Damn it,” she said.
“The top step creaks.”
“I should hire someone to fix that,” she said drily.
He didn’t answer. He was busy taking in the very skimpy tank top and tiny boy shorts she’d slept in. From the heat in his gaze, she could tell he liked the view. But when he reached for her, she took a step back, out of his range.
“Come here.”
Shaking her head, she covered her mouth with her hands. “Morning breath.”
“I don’t care.”
He wasn’t scared off by much, she knew. Well, except for a committed relationship, and at that thought, her mood went a little south. “I’m going to shower,” she said, and when his eyes darkened with interest, she shook her head. “Alone.”
He took another sip of his steaming drink. “I’m really good in the shower.”
Her nipples got perky, and she crossed her arms over herself, making him laugh softly.
“Go get dressed,” he said. “I’ve started a new book club.”
“What?” That’s when she realized she could hear voices. Little voices. And then another, not little voice, but a low baritone, and she stared at Ben in horror.
He straightened, set down his drink, and pulled off his jacket, which he wrapped around her. It was warm, and it smelled like him, and it fell to her thighs. Putting a finger to his lips, he took her hand, leading her to the half wall. Then, holding her in front of him, he pressed on her shoulders until she ducked low.
He crouched behind her, cradling her body within his, stroking a hand down her back while she did her best not to notice that he smelled so good she wanted to inhale him.
And/or lick him as though he were a lollipop.
Pressing his jaw to hers, he gestured with his chin to look ahead.
Seated on one of her couches were Pink and Kendra. Their legs were short enough to stick straight out, and they each held a stack of books on their laps. In between them was a man who looked so much like them he could have been their older brother. He was reading out loud from one of Aubrey’s favorite children’s books, and the girls were enraptured, staring up into his face, hanging on every single word.
“That’s their dad,” Ben whispered against her ear. “Dan Ingalls. He’s got visitation rights.”
She craned her neck and looked up at Ben. Once again, he had a several-day-old scruff going on his jaw, and she wanted him to rub it over her body. “Since when?” she whispered, barely staying on topic.
“Since always, apparently. He just didn’t exercise them. Until now.”
There was something in his voice. Relief, she thought, and reached for his hand. “You did this,” she said. “You brought them together.”
He shook his head. “It’s just a visit. I don’t know if he’s really into it.” He looked at the little girls hanging on every word as their dad read the book.