Ali and Leah came out of Jack’s house, both taking the time to glare at Ben as well.
“What he said,” Leah told him, gesturing her head toward Jack.
And then they were gone, leaving Ben alone to wonder when the hell everyone had gone from wanting him to steer clear of Aubrey to wanting them to be together.
The next morning, Ben got up early to head into work. It was a Saturday, which was perfect. He could catch up a little bit. He swung by to pick up Pink and Kendra and give them a lift to their rec ball soccer practice.
Because five-year-olds didn’t judge. Things were black and white for them. They didn’t give a shit that maybe he was afraid to be happy.
The girls were in their yard playing with…Dani. Proof positive that the logic of women was far beyond him.
At the school field, he stopped and put the truck into park. He unbuckled the girls and held on to the back of Pink’s jacket when she went to slide out of the vehicle. “Hold on a sec,” he said. Christ—he was going to do it; he was really going to ask. “I thought we didn’t like Dani.”
Pink shrugged. “She said she was sorry for being mean.”
Kendra nodded, her pigtails flying.
Just like that, just that easy. Ben looked into their sweet, innocent faces and felt something shift within him. They were so damn resilient. So easy to please. So completely full of life.
And so full of forgiveness.
He wished like hell he could be five again, when a “sorry” fixed everything. But it couldn’t now. Nothing could.
The girls hopped out of the truck, but not before pressing sloppy wet kisses on his jaw in thanks.
Bemused, Ben sat there for a long moment, absorbing the fact that he’d just been schooled on life and forgiveness by a couple of five-year-olds. God, he was tired. So f*cking tired. But every time he closed his eyes, he could see the pain in Aubrey’s gaze. It haunted him.
He’d hurt her. She’d finally opened up to someone—him—and he’d tossed it right back in her face.
She was trying to right her wrongs, trying to be a person she could live with, and he’d used her past against her. Which meant this wasn’t about Aubrey at all. It was about him and his own fears of letting someone in as far as he’d let Hannah—which hadn’t worked out so well for him.
But what had happened to Hannah hadn’t been his fault, and Aubrey was right. Life was a risk. He could hide from that or…live it.
The choice was his.
Figure your shit out. That’s what Aubrey had told him, and at the time that had just pissed him off because he’d thought she’d been the one who needed to figure things out.
But he’d been wrong about that, too.
The news of what Aubrey had done to Lucky Harbor’s beloved Ben McDaniel spread like wildfire. That on top of the nudie pictures pretty much did her in.
Foot traffic to the store on the day of her grand-opening party was practically nonexistent, and Aubrey knew in her gut she was sunk. “No one’s going to come to the opening tonight,” she told Ali and Leah as they arrived to help her set up.
“That’s okay,” Leah said. “We’ll eat the cupcakes ourselves.”
“Not exactly the point,” Ali murmured.
Leah took in Aubrey’s obviously devastated face. “Right,” she said quickly. “We’ll buy a bunch of books, too.”
The bell above the door pinged, and they all turned in renewed hope as Carla walked in. She wasn’t in scrubs today but was wearing a dress, and at the sight of her, Aubrey’s anxiety ratcheted up a couple of notches.
“Wow,” Ali whispered. “You have a look-alike.”
Aubrey ignored her. “Hey,” she said to her sister.
“Am I early for the grand-opening party?” Carla asked, looking around.
Aubrey found her voice through her surprise. “No. We’re it. We’re the party.”
Leah held out a tray of cupcakes as Carla looked around in confusion.
“Long story,” Aubrey said.
“Cupcake?” Leah asked.
Carla took one and moaned. “Oh, my God.”
Leah beamed. “Better than an orgasm, right?”
“I don’t remember what an orgasm feels like,” Carla admitted, and they all laughed.
Aubrey poured her a hot tea. “Thanks for coming and supporting me.”
Carla met her gaze. “Well, we are sisters.”
Aubrey felt some of her anxiety drain away as she nodded, unable to speak. But though her anger had drained as well, she was still flatlined by an unbearable sadness. She’d handled things wrong—all of it. “The party wasn’t my smartest idea. Who really opens a bookstore these days?” She shook her head. “No one, that’s who.”
“Well, that’s a piss-poor attitude, missy,” Lucille said, coming into the store, carrying a stack of papers. “I’m surprised at you. You’re supposed to be all kick-ass—Wonder Woman. Did you ever see Wonder Woman give up?”
“Lucille,” Aubrey said. “You know how much people loved Hannah. You know I can’t compete with that. Not after what I did.”
“What you did,” Lucille said, “was human. All of us have stuff we’re ashamed of. Every single one of us. And if people don’t remember that, well, shame on them.”
Carla looked at Aubrey. “What happened?”
“She was human,” Lucille repeated, and patted Carla’s hand. “And nice to see you here, honey.”
Aubrey shook her head at Carla’s questioning gaze. “Later,” she said.
Or never…
“What is all that?” Ali asked Lucille, gesturing to the things she’d brought.
“I made flyers to help bring people in for the party.” Lucille held them up. It was a cartoon of a blond Wonder Woman. Her hair was drawn to resemble Aubrey’s own smooth mane and was held back by a gold crown with a star in the middle. She was standing among stacks and stacks of books, hands on hips, looking pretty kick-ass. In the background were brownies, a teakettle, a laptop, and a tool belt.
“A tool belt?” Aubrey asked.
Lucille smiled. “I see Ben in here pretty regularly, so I wanted to make sure people knew that this is a hot-guy magnet. Nothing says ‘hot guy’ like a tool belt, you know.” She pulled three automatic staplers from her huge purse and handed them out. “Okay, girls, time to get busy.”
“Me, too?” Carla asked, holding a stapler, staring down at it.
Aubrey shook her head. “No, you don’t have to—”
“Sisters,” she said to Aubrey. Lucille handed Carla a stack of flyers, and Carla took them.
Aubrey smiled past the lump in her throat. “Thanks.”
Lucille had grabbed a cupcake in each hand and was sinking into a couch. “Hustle, ladies,” she said around a full mouth. She licked chocolate off her lips. “Go on, now.” She waved a cupcake. “No time to waste. I’d planned to put up a notice on Facebook, but as it turns out, I’m grounded from my account.”
“How do you get grounded from your own Facebook page?” Carla asked.
Lucille shrugged unrepentantly. “One too many pictures of hot guys not wearing enough clothes. But I started an Instagram account, so it’s all good.”
Ben sat at his desk. Because it was a Saturday, employees who happened to be in the building kept to themselves, making it quiet. Usually his favorite state.