Page 90 of You Only Need One
“Dinner’s ready.” The spoon in his hand hovers above the open soup pot, and I can see the steam rising off the top. “Could you bring the bowls over?”
Trying not to look like I’m running away, I hop up and retreat to the kitchen.
When I grab the waiting bowls on the table, I notice one has measurements on the inside. Even when eating, he has to be precise.
As I hold them out, Ben spoons in our fire-cooked dinner, and excitement sets off little sparks in my chest again. This experience is so novel.
Wearing an oven mitt, Ben pushes the metal arm away from the fire and covers the pot with a lid before taking his bowl out of my grasp.
I settle in at the table, spoon in hand, ready to take my first bite, when Ben stops me with a chiding cluck.
“Careful. That’s crazy hot. Also, you’ll probably want this.” After rummaging in one of the cabinets, he hands me a tiny saltshaker. “Sorry. Had to make the soup low sodium. ’Cause … you know.” He waves at his abdomen.
I wish I could just rip out my kidney, stuff it in him, and yell, You’re free! Eat whatever and drink however much you want!
At least he doesn’t have to wait much longer.
“No problem. I’d rather it be too bland than too salty. I can always add more salt but can’t take it away once it goes in.” I grin at him, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. Time to change subjects. “So, you never answered my question.”
“Which one?”
From his trusty bag of food supplies, Ben pulls out a loaf of crusty-looking bread. And, yeah, maybe the sight has drool pooling in my mouth. Looks like I found a new sexy image to add to my spank bank: Ben handing me bread.
What girl doesn’t want a hot guy offering her carbs?
Pushing away the inappropriate thoughts, I try to keep the conversation light. “What other outdoorsy things can you do?”
Ben smirks before blowing on a spoonful of soup. Unfortunately, that brings my focus to his lips. I study their shape, how the upper lip is just a bit fuller than the bottom.
Would he like it if I sucked on it? Maybe gave it a gentle bite?
I pinch the back of my arm—hard.
Get it together, Holly! You’re not in some low-budget porno where you can go around, biting people! He’s not a piece of meat, so just try to act like a normal human being rather than a sex-crazed animal!
My inner tirade is broken off by him answering, “I can start a fire without matches or steel and flint. It takes forever, but I’ve done it a few times.”
Takes forever? My panties are proof that he only needs one look.
Ben continues talking, unaware that I have absolutely no control over my hormones, “I can fish with just a line and a hook. We joked about the shelter, but I could actually make something that would keep us relatively warm through the night.”
“I believe you. Still don’t want to try it.” Somehow, I keep my tone light.
He steals my move and sticks his tongue out at me. Not helping with my fixation. “Got it. I also know a bunch of different knots. That came in handy during rock climbing.”
“You went rock climbing with your grandpa?” Doesn’t seem like a common retirement activity.
“Nah. He was getting older and not really interested in that. I used to go with Fred all the time when he lived in Philly. Even road-tripped to Kentucky to climb in Red River Gorge. Grandpa Ben and I would stick to hiking and camping.”
“So, he’s the one who taught you all that stuff?”
“Yeah. He was in the military and learned a lot about survival from it before he became a lawyer, and the rest was self-taught. Mainly after he retired. He didn’t have to live out here. Grandpa Ben was pretty well off. Could’ve set himself up nicely in the city. But, when he left the firm, one of the first things he did was buy this place and move into it.”
“Do you know why?” Finally, I’ve stopped obsessing over my attraction. When Ben talks about his grandfather, I simply get the urge to settle in and listen.
“Said he’d spent enough of his life in an office. Wanted to breathe in the fresh air every day. He even quit smoking when he moved out here.” Ben’s smile melts away, leaving a dark, troubled look in its place. His soup forgotten, he leans back in his chair and stares out the window even though everything on the other side of the glass is solid black.
Curiosity scrapes at my nerves, but I don’t want to pry into something that’ll hurt Ben.