Page 14 of Whiskey & Honey
“Hmmm … Bentley Sullivan, have you always been so wise?”
“Of course I have. So, tell me, Piper, what have you been up to all these years?”
Well that’s a loaded question. Instead of replying with the details, I skirt over the emotional bullshit of the last few years and instead hit the highlights. After about an hour or so we’ve managed to summarize, very sparingly I might add, the last few years of our lives. I’m finishing up a story of my first year teaching kindergarten, which, by the way, included not one but two marriage proposals from five-year-olds. Before I can ask about his plans now that he’s back home Ben stands and takes my glass from the table.
“More wine?”
“I better not. Two glasses is already past my weekday max.”
“You do know we don’t have work tomorrow, right? Come on and live a little.”
“Fine, but if I’m hungover again tomorrow, you’re bringing me Rosa’s instead of your sister.”
“Deal.”
I offer him a closed smile in response. We’ve managed to skirt the topic of last night and I know in my gut we have to get it out of the way. It would really help my cause if Ben hadn’t strolled in here like a hero and saved me from stupid Tony. And if he didn’t smell so damn good. And if he didn’t make me laugh. And if his smile didn’t send shivers down my spine.
Yeah, all of that would really help.
I glance toward the kitchen where he’s pouring my wine. Goodness, he sure knows how to wear a pair of jeans. It would help a girl out if he didn’t fill out a pair of jeans like they were designed just for him. Damn he’s distracting.
Yep, we need to have this conversation so he can go.
Since I’m throwing my rules out the window tonight, I might as well go all out. I drag myself off the couch and make my way into the kitchen. Ben turns to see me and offers me that smile again. Settle down, ovaries, it’s Ben, not a Calvin Klein model.
“I would have brought you the wine, Piper.”
And there go the ovaries. Something about the way he says my name … like chocolate slowly pouring over a hot pan of brownies. Rich, creamy, and sinful.
“I … uh … wow, it’s hot in here. Is it hot in here? I should turn on a fan. Are you hot?”
I sound like an idiot. It’s not hot at all. Ben must agree by the sound of the chuckle and shake of his head as he hands me my wine.
“Nah, it’s not hot. Probably just the wine.”
“You’re right. I was going to just grab us a little snack. Are you hungry?”
“I’m a guy. I can eat at any time. What were you thinking?”
“Sweet or savory?” Oh good lord, what kind of come hither voice was that? I set my wine down and grab a bottle of cold water from the refrigerator. This wine is obviously going to my head.
“Both? I always like a little sweet after I savor.”
My eyes go wide as I start choking on my water.
“Oh my word, you did not just say that! Bentley James! That was the corniest thing I have ever heard and I work with five-year-olds!”
“Oh, busting out the middle name. What can I say? I’m a bit rusty in the flirting department.”
“Yeah well, no flirting here, buddy. Go sit and I’ll put together a few snacks,” I say as I push him out of the kitchen.
I need space. I need time without his smell in my senses. Without him being within arms’ distance. I know I can’t act on my attraction to him, but damn if I really want to.