Barely.
I take a small sip, and Ben watches me with rapt attention as my lips touch the rim.
The red wine passes over my tongue, slightly bitter as I swallow.
“It’s good.”
“Keep it,” he says, eyeing the last half of the glass. “They’re bringing more. I can get another glass.”
It’s intimate, of course, to have Ben’s wine glass, to put my mouth where his was. I don’t think that fact escapes him either. I take another small sip and have to look away from him for a moment, just to catch hold of reality once again.
The chatter going on around us makes it feel like we’re alone at the crowded table. Everyone has gone back to their own conversations, forgetting about us mostly. The man to my right is having a heated discussion with his other seatmate, so I don’t worry about turning my body ever so slightly toward Ben or brushing my bare shoulder against his arm in an attempt to get closer to him, though I’d never admit that out loud.
“You’re old enough to drink,” Ben notes while he surveys me. “But something tells me you don’t drink much.”
“Wine’s not a necessity. So no, I don’t drink much.”
He responds with a soft grumble as if he’s annoyed to be reminded of the way I live, pinching pennies.
“It’s not a big deal.”
“Isn’t it?”
I can hear the barely restrained emotion in his tone. I know we’ve only put a pin in our discussion from the other night, and something tells me Ben would love nothing more than to pick up right where we left off. I haven’t forgiven him, but I’m here in this glitzy dress, practically in his arms.
“Are you going to tell me about your skeletons?” I say suddenly, turning my body toward him even more, dropping my hand to the edge of his chair, right beside his thigh.
He stiffens and his eyes narrow with thought as he assesses me.
“Or will I have to read about them online like everyone else?”
He arches a brow. “You haven’t already?”
“I’m sure you won’t believe me, but no, I haven’t looked you up. I don’t get internet on my phone, and my laptop was property of Caltech so I couldn’t take it with me when I left.”
“Still…if you were curious…” he says, pressing me.
I shrug and take another small sip of wine. “Maybe I wasn’t that curious.”
He looks at me as if I just admitted I’m not that into him, like he’s never beheld a person not trying to get close to him by any means necessary.
The bold expression, the utter lack of self-awareness. This man has the world and he still wants more. He wants me.
I lean in so my lips aren’t far from his, then I glance up to his eyes and make sure he’s listening carefully. “Maybe I should remind you that you’ve been the one pursuing me.”
“Pursuing?”
I smile then, suddenly sick of the games. “Yes, Ben. I see how you watch me. I see that hungry look in your eyes like you’d love nothing more than to drop me right onto this table and eat.”
His brown eyes are enflamed as he takes his wine glass back from me and downs the contents in one go. My smug smile can barely be contained.
“Watch yourself, Little Bird.”
“Or what?”
“Or I just might do it.” Goose bumps bloom across my body, and I know he feels them. I must look so utterly dumbstruck, because he continues as if I don’t know what he’s referring to. “Drop you right on this table…”
My jaw drops ever so slightly.
We’ve never done this. Over the last few weeks, we’ve had polite conversation with our mouths while eating each other up with our eyes, but tonight, we’ve crossed a line. We’ve named our desire, and it feels dangerous to have it out in the open between us. Now, it feels like there’re vapors in the air that might go up in flames at any moment.
Ben’s eyes shift to something behind me and he lifts his hand.
“She’ll have another glass of the cabernet, please.”
“And for you, sir?”
“Nothing. Thank you.”
The waiter walks away and I tilt my head. “Not drinking much tonight?”
“I’ve had that glass and I don’t need anything else. I’m driving you home.”
“I left my car at the diner.”
“Then I’m driving you to the diner.”
I arch a brow. “Oh, are you?”
“Yes. Should I tell Lele right now? Announce it to the whole table?”
My cheeks burn hot and I reach out to grip his forearm, to keep him from making a scene.
His mouth splits into a gut-punching smile. “Not an attention seeker then?”
My eyes narrow into slits. “Do I look like one to you?” His gaze flits over my dress, and I know what he’s thinking. I speak before he can. “This isn’t mine. Leanna dressed me tonight.”
He chuckles under his breath. “It’s not about the dress.”
I roll my eyes and try to shift away from him. “Oh please.”
His hand on my shoulder keeps me in place. “You don’t see yourself clearly, Birdie.”
I huff out an annoyed breath. “Don’t I? Maybe I’m confused then. I thought I was the girl in the trailer. Guess I’m wrong. Have I been livin’ in a big ol’ mansion this whole time?”
“You think any of that matters?”
“No. I know it doesn’t matter. I know I have a good heart and a good head on my shoulders. Still, I don’t need you coming to town and filling me up with ideas, Ben. You’re leaving.”
“Not yet.”
“Soon enough.”
He’s quiet for a moment, watching me as I keep my attention straight ahead. I don’t realize how deeply I’m scowling, how intensely annoyed and sad I am until he leans in and presses a kiss to my shoulder, just beside the strap of my dress. It’s the first time his lips have touched my skin, and I can’t keep my eyes from squeezing shut to try to hold on to the sensation.
“Thirteen days is longer than you think.”
Chapter Fourteen
Ben
Raelynn is pure sunshine in her shimmery dress. There’s nothing all that fancy about it, or her. Sure, Lele has clearly dolled her up a bit, but her blonde hair still hangs in loose wild waves. Her skin is still tan and freckled, not hidden under thick layers of makeup. I can smell her shampoo. I can read every emotion in her pale blue eyes.
When she walked into the private dining room of the restaurant, I wasn’t expecting her. Lele didn’t tell me she was bringing Raelynn. It’s why I didn’t act right away. It’s why it took me a moment to shoot to my feet and get Raelynn a chair. I was as awestruck as the rest of the guys in this room.
I have to fight the urge to tell her over and over again just how sexy I find her, just how insanely beautiful she looks tonight. I can picture her reaction, her rolling her eyes, shifting away from me, shutting down.
I bet she’s gone too long not hearing those words said out loud by anyone other than fucking Patrick. It’s like she’s forgotten she exists outside of Dale’s Diner and her grandmother’s nursing home. She’s forgotten she’s a real human with real needs.