He smiles. And even though it’s laced with sadness, there’s an underlying piece that’s genuine and real. It might be the most handsome thing I’ve ever seen.
“Sounds great,” he tells me.
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he repeats. A silence that borders on awkward begins to seep into the room as he keeps looking at me with that soft, contented smile. Shifting in my seat, my gaze bounces back to the slideshow on my computer screen, and I fumble to close it.
“Well, I guess that’s it then.”
“I guess so.”
With a few keystrokes, the screen goes dark, and I stand up, hooking my thumbs into the back pockets of my jeans. When I remember the top buttons are undone from the good ol’ baby bump, I cross my arms instead. “Thanks for coming.”
He joins me on his feet. “Thanks for having me.”
“Mmmhmm,” I hum, chancing another glance at him.
This is awkward. I can’t be the only one who feels it, right?
Yet he looks as cool as a cucumber. A sexy cucumber. I didn’t know cucumbers could be sexy, but––
“Tell me something. Do you eat your pizza leftovers hot or cold?” His voice cracks through my inner dialogue, making me pause.
“Excuse me?”
“Old pizza. Do you heat it up again, or eat it straight from the fridge like a cavewoman?”
Laughing, I reply, “Umm…I guess it depends if I have a deadline or not? But usually cold. It’s too much effort to heat it up in the microwave. Some bites are scalding, and some are still cold. I like the predictability of an evenly unscalding piece.”
“Is that right?”
“Mmmhmm,” I hum. Again. I catch myself doing that a lot around him, but I refuse to acknowledge that it’s because his eyes always drop down to my mouth whenever I do.
“I’m not sure if I’ve ever been more ashamed of a friend,” he states with a playful grin.
“Friend?”
He hesitates before giving me a definitive nod. “Yeah. I think you already know that I have a few…,” he pauses a second time, searching for the right word. “Limitations when it comes to relationships. But I’d like it if we could be friends.”
“I can do friends,” I answer with a reassuring smile. An angry swarm of butterflies assaults my stomach, but I ignore them. I can totally do friends. Wasn’t that what Dylan and I were talking about, anyway?
“Good. Then I think it’s time I show you the proper way to heat up pizza, Friend.”
With a bow, I motion to the exit and reply, “Lead the way, Friend.”
14
Marcy
DRBen918: Hey, Friend.
Marcy123Marcy: Why, hello, Friend. How are you this fine morning?
DRBen918: Good. I actually got some sleep last night, so it’s been a great morning. How about you?
Marcy123Marcy: Shockingly, I slept really well too.
DRBen918: Good. I’m glad. Do you have any plans today?
I try to ignore those same stupid butterflies that are assaulting me at the prospect of hanging out with Ben today. I sure as hell don’t get them when Dylan texts me. Shaking it off, a single word flashes through my mind before I type my response.
Friends.
Marcy123Marcy: Nope. You?
DRBen918: I’m kind of in the mood to cook, so I was thinking of going to the farmer’s market to grab some things.
Laughing, I drop my phone to my chest and think about Dr. Benjamin Bennett, aka the hottest doctor I’ve ever seen––including the actors on the set of Grey’s Anatomy. Who the hell is this guy? He’s…gah! He’s a damn dreamboat, that’s what he is.
The guy goes to farmer’s markets. And cooks. And is so damn loyal to his first wife that, if anything, I’m envious of her. I bet he was a great husband and would’ve been an amazing dad too. Every once in a while, I see glimpses of who he was before she died, and I can’t help but swoon.
Hell, even with all the broken pieces, he’s still swoon-worthy. Sooo swoon-worthy.
But the idea of him in a farmer’s market with a girl on his arm…. Is he really that perfect? He was made for the traditional family life. Obviously, it’s all he’s ever wanted. But there’s something sexy about a guy who isn’t afraid of commitment, even if he isn’t interested in it anymore because of his past. Besides, I get it.
And we’re friends.
F-R-I-E-N-D-S.
Picking up my phone, I shake myself out of my drooling and reply.
Marcy123Marcy: Farmer’s market? Do people actually go to those?
DRBen918: Are you serious right now? And will you take away my man card if I tell you they used to know me by name?
Marcy123Marcy: I might have to steal it. I mean, they don’t hand those man cards out to just anyone. And what do you mean they USED to know your name?
DRBen918: I used to go every weekend with Kate, but after she died, I didn’t really feel like going. However, today, I’ve got an itch to go try some cheese and buy some veggies. Would you like to come with me? Who knows, maybe we can even grab you an apron.
Without giving me too much time to overthink his invitation, another message pops up.
DRBen918: But only if you promise to let me keep that blasted man card.
I snort and shake my head.
Marcy123Marcy: I guess I should probably attend a farmer’s market before I strip your man card. So, yes. I’d love to tag along and eat cheese. And maybe even invest in an apron if you insist on dragging me to these things.
DRBen918: Perfect. I’ll pick you up at 10.
There are those damn butterflies again.
Marcy123Marcy: See you soon.
“So, what’s your story, Marcy Holden?” Ben asks as we walk down the center aisle with a cup of freshly cut fruit and lemonade.
Wrapping my lips around the straw, I take a sip of the tart liquid and shrug one shoulder. “I don’t know? My family moved to Sunnyville when I was in high school. After I graduated, I decided to learn a trade and picked up photography while I was working at Bertha's diner since I wasn’t really interested in going to college. Aaand, that’s my life in a nutshell.”
“What about your family? Any siblings? Are you close with your parents?”
“One older sister, but she moved out of state after high school for college. We talk once a month over the phone and see each other during the holidays, but that’s about it. When my parents retired, they moved down to Florida and have been soaking up the sunshine ever since.”
“But you stayed here? In Sunnyville?”
With another shrug, I answer, “Yup. There’s something charming about Sunnyville, even if the dating pool is less than shallow for a girl like me.”