Ben shook his head. “Uh-uh.”
“Blood and guts and gore. You like war movies and assassins?”
“You’re so totally off the mark, it’s not even funny,” Ben said. “I’m a fan of the classics, if you must know.”
“The classics . . .”
“Yes, the classics.”
“Can you be a little more specific?”
“Sure.” He counted the movies off on his fingers. “Roman Holiday, His Girl Friday, Pillow Talk, Bringing Up Baby, The Shop Around the Corner, The Philadelphia Story.”
I blinked.
There was no way in hell Ben liked those movies.
He probably just memorized them on the way to the restaurant to try to impress me.
I was the one who liked those movies.
I knew what he was up to.
We were supposed to be getting to know each other, but Ben wasn’t playing nicely and wasn’t going to tell the truth, because he didn’t want me to use anything against him during our show. But if Ben didn’t want me to know anything about him, why had he even agreed to lunch? All he had to do was tell me that.
The only thing I could do now was either play along with his charade or extract the truth out of him, which would be challenging, but worth it in the end.
I opted for the latter.
Ben studied me. “Why are you looking at me that way?”
“You like those movies?”
Ben nodded and took a bite of his lasagna. “Love them. I watch them over and over again. I own them all, actually.”
“You.”
“Why do you find that so hard to believe? They were and are still very popular movies.”
“I don’t doubt the popularity of them. I’m doubting that a caveman would ever watch those movies, let alone enjoy one of them.”
“I’m curious . . . when are you going to stop calling me caveman?”
“When are you going to stop calling me sidekick?”
Ben nodded and took a sip of his beer. “Caveman is fine.”
“I still don’t believe you about the movies.”
“Well, I don’t know how I can prove it to you since you and I both know you won’t be going to my house anytime soon to check out my movie collection or my etchings.”
I wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily.
“It’s not difficult to prove. I mean, if you own them all and watch them repeatedly, you must have some favorite lines from one of the movies. Give me a quote from one of them to prove this is not you just being ridiculous again. Heck, I’ll even stop calling you caveman if you come up with something. Any line, and then I’ll be quiet.” I pretended to zip my mouth shut.
He leaned closer to me. “Now, it isn't that I don't like you, Lori, because after all, in moments of quiet, I'm strangely drawn toward you.” He winked. “But—well, there haven't been any quiet moments.”
I swallowed hard.
Grandma Joyce was right; Ben’s voice was deep and smooth and hypnotizing.
How had I not noticed that before?
I glanced at my beer.
I wasn’t drunk, so that’s not where the thoughts could be coming from.
Ben took a bite of his lasagna, looking quite satisfied with himself.
I was at a loss for words, really.
He just quoted one of my favorite lines from the movie Bringing Up Baby, except the part where he inserted my name.
That freaked me out a little.
Or a lot.
We had something else in common? Just the thought was making me a little queasy.
Ben pointed to my face. “There you go again, doing that staring thing. Are you shocked that I could come up with a line, or is it just because you now know that I really do love those movies?”
“Both. I love those movies, too.”
Ben shrugged. “Something else we have in common.”
“Don’t remind me.”
He lowered his head, breaking our gaze. “Do you really hate me that much?” He let out a heavy breath through his nose.
Hate was such a strong word.
And oddly enough, Ben looked kind of upset.
I certainly didn’t hate him.
I didn’t hate anyone, for that matter, not even Zachary.
I was trying to figure out why I had such hostile feelings toward Ben and I couldn’t actually remember why. The only thing I could come up with was that I didn’t like his style on the radio, but was that because I thought it was wrong, or because I thought my way was the only way?
Ben was still looking in my direction, waiting.
“Now look who’s staring,” I said.
It was the only thing I could think of.
Not a great comeback, I admit that.
Ben chuckled. “I wasn’t staring. I was maintaining eye contact with you and waiting for an answer, since I asked you a question. But if you prefer not to answer it . . .”
I sighed. “Okay, okay . . . I don’t hate you.” I tilted my head to the side and waited for his answer, hoping I wasn’t coming off as a snob. “Happy now?”
Ben broke off another piece of garlic bread, dragging it across his plate to soak up some of the sauce from the lasagna. “Very happy.” He popped the bread in his mouth and smiled.
“But—”
He laughed again. “There’s always a but. One T, not two.”
“You can’t make fun of romantic comedies anymore because all those movies you rattled off are rom-coms. And I love them.”
“No, they’re not.”
I put my elbows on the table and leaned in. “Do they have romance?”
He mocked me and copied my elbow move. “Yes.”
“Are they funny? Do they make you laugh?”
“Yes.”
I smirked. “Rom-coms.”
Ben pointed a piece of garlic bread at me. “How did you sleep last night?”
I closed my eyes and shook my head hard like I had water in my ears.
He reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Are you okay?”
I slowly opened my eyes, glancing down at his hand on top of mine.
He was touching me, and I wasn’t doing anything about it.
I was confused.
It actually appeared that Ben did have a caring bone in his body, by the look on his face and the gesture of his hand on top of mine.
“Lori? Your left eye is twitching. Is this a seizure?”
I finally pulled my hand back and placed it on my lap. “No. I’m fine.” I took the last sip of my beer, thinking about it for a moment, trying to recover. “Okay, there you go. You learned something personal about me. That little twitch is involuntary and happens when I’m confused, surprised, or stressed out.”
Ben nodded. “And which one are you right now?”
“All of the above.”
“How so?”
“Well, I’m confused because I’m getting this impression that I have no idea who you are. I’m surprised because it appears we have more than a few things in common. And I was stressed because you changed the subject so fast I almost got whiplash. We were talking about romantic comedies, and then, out of nowhere, you asked me how I slept last night. Where in the heck did that question come from?”
He chuckled. “Do I need to announce to you ahead of time when I’m going to change the subject?”