Montana Cherries (3 page)

“Let her stay and have dessert.”

The air in the room grew thick.

“Excuse me?” Michelle’s tone iced over as she turned to her husband.

“We have company,” Gabe explained. “She has a new friend. She’s staying for dessert.”

“I don’t—”

“I don’t care,” Gabe interrupted. His eyes were hard. “She’s having dessert with the rest of us.”

Dani quietly rose and moved to the counter, her back to the group. She began slicing a pie and sliding individual pieces onto plates while Michelle and Gabe had a stare-off. The next instant, as if she realized they were arguing in front of a crowd, Michelle’s posture eased and a bright smile flashed across her face. Her chin tilted at a haughty angle.

“Well, I, for one”—she shot Ben a look—“won’t let a silly dessert ruin
my
figure.”

With those words, she headed out of the room. Ben caught Jenna’s fork shaking as she reached up and placed it on her plate, and Haley had slunk back in her seat, identical to her new friend. Gabe apologized to the room, his voice low and strained.

“Well.” Max cleared his throat. He scratched at his neck, then cleared his throat again. “Before we lose anyone else, Gloria and I had something we wanted to say tonight.”

Dani paused in her movements. She turned back to the table, and Gloria—who had to be well into her sixties—blushed. She took Max’s proffered hand.

“No sense beating around the bush,” the elder Wilde stated. “Gloria and I are getting married.”

Dani appeared speechless, while Gabe barked out a chuckle and a hearty “Congrats!” He slapped his dad on the back.

“Congratulations,” Ben said from the opposite end of the table. “You’re a lucky man.”

“Please.” Gloria let the word roll out as she smiled up at Max. Love shone across her face. “I’m the lucky one. I’ve been trying to tie this man down for years.”

“Well, you finally caught me, darlin’.” Max kissed her hand, and she blushed again.

Laughter and chatter filled the room, and Ben couldn’t help but keep an eye on Dani. She was laughing now, saying all the right things, but her expression had gone blank. Did she not like Gloria? The older woman certainly wasn’t like Michelle. She’d been nothing but pleasant company all evening. And she seemed to genuinely care for Max.

“How about we do dessert and coffee in the family room?” Dani suggested. She quickly lined the saucers up on a serving tray while the rest of the adults filed into the connecting room. Ben, Jenna, and Haley remained sitting at the table.

“Can I go back to Jenna’s room now?” Haley asked hesitantly.

Dani looked around at the question, and at Ben’s seeking glance, she answered, “Don’t you want dessert?”

Haley shook her head.

“I don’t either,” Jenna mumbled. She didn’t look up from her plate.

“Me either,” Ben decided on the spot. There were some weird dynamics going on in this household, and he hoped to help ease at least one of them. “How about you and I”—he spoke to Haley—“help Miss Dani clean up the dishes instead?” He’d heard other people refer to adults as “Miss” whoever around their kids. He hoped it was the right thing to do.

Jenna nodded. “Can I help too? I like doing dishes.”

“Of course,” Dani answered.

She glanced at Ben, her gaze hanging on his for several seconds. The look in her eyes reminded him of the summer they’d first met. And the word he’d often thought to himself to describe it. Broken. It had been a year and a half since she’d lost her mother, and from everything he’d learned, the woman had walked on water. She and her daughter had been close, and Dani had taken the loss particularly hard.

“Thanks,” she murmured now.

He gave a small nod, wondering if she was remembering all the nights he’d stuck around back then to help clean up after dinner. He hadn’t done so at first, instead heading into town with Gabe each evening. But during the last week of that first summer, he’d been hit with the realization that Dani always cleaned up after them. By herself. And that hadn’t seemed fair.

Their time in the kitchen had been the beginning of many conversations between them. Not that first week. He didn’t think anyone had ever offered to help, and she’d tried her best to send him out of the room each evening. But by the time he’d returned for Christmas, insisting once again that he would stick around for cleanup, the air in the room had eased.

They’d talked while doing the dishes. And laughed. About mundane things at first, but by the next summer they’d been onto topics with more substance. Their hopes and dreams. College. Careers. Eventually, their mothers.

He’d also started following her down to the small stretch of beach late in the evenings. The Wildes’ property contained one hundred feet of lakefront access with a private boat slip, and Dani had made a habit of stealing away by herself.

Until Ben had begun joining her.

He looked at Haley again, forcing himself away from the memories. “What do you say?” he asked. “Want to help with the dishes?”

After a few seconds of silence, she solemnly nodded.

She didn’t look at him as she climbed down from her seat, but as she and Jenna both carried their plates to the sink, she laughed softly at something the other girl said, and the sound was as gut wrenching as the first time he’d heard it.

It also gave him renewed determination to have her someday laugh with him.

chapter three

A
fter Dani doled out the desserts to everyone in the family room, she and Ben fell into the easy rhythm they’d once shared, him clearing dishes from the table, her loading the dishwasher. She passed a handful of silverware off to the girls and showed Haley how to place the pieces one at a time into the plastic basket, then bit the inside of her lip to keep from smiling at the focused expressions that appeared on both faces.

She turned back to Ben for another plate, only to catch him watching her with his own contemplative look. Its intensity sent a tingle of awareness through her. Not that he was looking at her in a longing way. More like he was simply
looking
at her. Which was something no one had done in a long time.

And was only fair since she’d spent a generous portion of tonight observing him, as well.

He’d changed, but not so much. He’d filled out. Aged a little. But more than his physical appearance seemed different. When he’d come to their home all those years ago, he’d been a celebrity’s son. He’d known it, and he’d understood the power that gave him. He hadn’t been a jerk about it, but he’d walked with a privileged swagger.

Today he seemed more like a man trying to figure out his place in the world.

Granted, he still reeked of money. But if Dani were to guess, finding out he had a daughter had set him back a step or two. It had most likely made him see the world differently. Though exactly how he now saw it, she wasn’t yet sure.

She lifted a brow when he continued to stare at her.

“You don’t like Gloria?” he asked with a muted voice.

Her expression dropped and she glanced toward the great room. It was a large space, but there wasn’t a wall connecting the two rooms. However, no one seemed to be paying attention to them.

“I like her fine,” she muttered. “Why?”

“You didn’t look happy with the announcement.”

She snatched a plate off the table and bent to load it. Of course she was happy. Her dad had been with Gloria for a long time. He’d been without a wife for even longer.

She was happy.

When Ben still didn’t hand her another dish, she finally looked back at him. “What?”

“You didn’t look happy,” he repeated softly.

“I’m happy,” she said through gritted teeth, giving him a wide, toothy grin.

He snorted at her response, and she let her fake grin turn into a real one. This was what she’d missed for the last ten years. Someone to talk to at the end of the day. Someone who saw beyond the outer parts.

That ability of his had frightened her back then, yet at the same time it had comforted.

She found that it still comforted today.

“I am happy,” she said, nodding her head in the direction of her family, where her dad was now laughing at something Gloria had said. She tried to picture her mom and dad in a similar situation. Laughing and enjoying the moment. She couldn’t do it. “It just made me think of my mom,” she told him. “I still miss her.”

And she was certain her mother
had
once made her dad laugh.

Even if she couldn’t remember it.

“I’m sure you do.” He handed the girls the last of the silverware. “But he deserves to be happy.”

“I know. And really, I’m thrilled. Gloria is a great person. She’s great for him. It’s all . . . great,” she finished lamely, lifting her hands, palms up.

“That’s a lot of great.” He scraped the remains of Michelle’s half-eaten food into the garbage disposal and turned on the motor. When it stopped he passed over the plate. “Jealous?” he asked.

She made a face. “Of what?”

“I don’t know. Gabe’s married, has a kid. Your dad is getting married. Your brothers are all off doing their things. Living their lives.”

“I’m living my life. I finished my degree, I told you that. I have a business. I’m moving to New York.”

“Where’d you get your degree?”

She paused at his question—why would it matter? “U of M, Missoula. Mostly online, but I drove back and forth when a class demanded it. Why?”

“Not quite Columbia.”

Her throat went tight. He remembered well. She’d worked so hard for that scholarship. Then regretted ever taking it. “It’s a perfectly fine school,” she pointed out.

“Only, you could have done more. You could have been Ivy League.”

“Really, Ben.” She rolled her eyes, wanting to change the subject. “Do you charm all the girls this way?”

He smiled then. A real smile for the first time that day. The curve came slow, and as she remembered it, it formed deep creases alongside his mouth. It was hot, naughty, and
definitely
loaded down with charm. “I try,” he murmured suggestively.

She gulped.

He was teasing. She knew it. And she knew that he knew exactly what that smile could do to a woman.

Still didn’t lessen the impact.

“Stop it,” she murmured.

He laughed then, his eyes smiling along with his mouth, and handed her the last dirty dish. Then he propped himself in the corner of the countertop and crossed both arms over his chest. “So what about men?” His gaze flickered quickly over her. “Date much? Ever marry?” He glanced at her ring finger.

“Definitely haven’t married.” Her thumb rubbed over the bare spot on her finger as if it were missing a ring. “I have a career to get to.”

“Aunt Dani doesn’t like boys,” Jenna supplied helpfully.

Both Dani and Ben gaped at the blonde as she put a spoon in the basket with great precision, then Ben slowly turned back to Dani. His eyes asked the question that neither of them voiced.

She burst out laughing. “Not like
that
,” she assured him. “I
like
boys.”

“I didn’t think I remembered it that way,” he murmured.

Heat touched her cheeks as she ignored his words and bent to load detergent in the dishwasher. She’d tried hard not to think
about
that
all afternoon. She had lost her virginity to this man. He’d seen her naked. His hands had been on her body.

“Your mom would be proud of you,” he said when she stood back up. “New York.”

She appreciated his change of subject. “I’m counting on it.”

New York was the main reason she’d rarely dated over the last ten years. Why she’d never considered long-term when she had.

And why Jenna thought she didn’t like boys.

“You should be proud, too,” he added.

She looked at him as she considered his words. Of course she was proud of herself. Right? She’d worked hard to get here. And she was darned good at her job.

She nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m proud of me, too.”

But the conviction in her voice seemed to be missing.

“You deserve all your dreams, Dani. I’m glad you’re getting them. I’m thrilled for you.”

“Thanks.” She smiled tightly, and wanted to lean in and give the man a hug. Or, more precisely, she wanted him to lean in and give her one. Just hold her. Because she didn’t get held a lot.

“We done’d all the dishes,” Jenna announced, yanking Dani’s thoughts away from the comfort of hugs. Her niece stepped between them and looked up. “Can Haley sleep in my room tonight?”

They’d redone Jenna’s room over the summer, adding an additional bed for sleepovers. So far it had gone unused. Dani glanced at Ben. “If it’s okay with her dad,” she said.

Both girls turned inquisitive eyes to Haley’s father.

“But there’s a cot in my room for you,” Ben began, and Haley’s excitement visibly faded. “You would have your own bed,” he finished.

“She could have her own bed in my room, too,” Jenna informed him. “I got buck beds.”

Dani bit her lip at the mispronunciation.

When Ben raised his gaze to hers, she nodded. “She has ‘buck’ beds. It’ll be fine.”

“Michelle?” he mouthed.

Dani shook her head. “It’s fine.”

He looked back down at Haley then, who was still staring up at him. Her eyes were solemn and direct; her expression emotionless. The sight twisted Dani’s heart. The child’s mother had dropped her off with a virtual stranger, and that stranger now controlled every aspect of her life. He could also leave it as quickly as he’d appeared. As quickly as her mother had.

Dani could understand that desperation for something just out of her reach.

“Then I guess you’re sleeping in Jenna’s room tonight,” Ben answered his daughter.

The child’s entire face changed in an instant, and even better, Ben’s changed along with it. Haley beamed at her daddy. And he beamed back.

It was stunning to watch.

“You both go on up and play,” Dani told the girls. “I’ll come up soon and help you take a bath, then read you a story before bedtime.”

Four feet scurried out of the kitchen, and when Dani turned back to Ben, she couldn’t miss the marvel in his eyes.

“How long has she been with you?” she asked.

He didn’t answer until they heard footsteps overhead. Then he let out a long, slow breath. “Three weeks,” he answered.

“She smile for you much?”

His Adam’s apple moved up and down as he swallowed. “Only tonight.”

Dani came darned close to giving him that hug she’d so wanted for herself. “You planning on keeping her?” she asked instead. He was here with her. Dani had questioned all afternoon whether that meant he was trying to figure out how to make it work, or if he was somehow looking for an out.
He
had been dumped off on a ranch in Montana as a kid, after all.

“I’m keeping her,” he said. The words came out as uncertain as he looked.

“Her mother?”

He shook his head. “Not coming back.”

Dani wanted to find the woman and rip out her throat. “Then I’m glad you came here,” she said softly. “And I’m glad I got to witness the first of what I’ve no doubt will be many smiles aimed your way.”

He nodded absently, rubbed his hand over the day’s scruff on his jaw, and looked in the direction of the stairs. After several seconds, as if only then registering her words, he brought his gaze back to hers. “You’re okay with me being here?”

“Of course.”

“I was planning to stay through harvest,” he said, leaving the sentence hanging like a question. Four weeks at the minimum.

“If Gabe’s good with it.” She nodded. “I have no problem. You’re his friend.”

“I was your friend too.”

Oh.
She glanced away. He meant because of
that
. She grabbed the dishcloth to wipe the table down.

“I was more,” he said behind her.

She shook her head, but didn’t stop what she was doing. “It was just a thing, Ben. No biggie.”

“Right,” he agreed. “But it was a
thing
.” When she edged within reach, he nudged her foot with his. She ignored him and kept wiping at the now clean table. So he did it again. If they discussed it now, they could be done with it for the future. She got the point he was trying to make.

Stopping her movements, she clenched the cloth in her hand and turned to face him.

Solid green eyes burned steady on hers. “We never talked about it after,” he said.

Which had been her fault. She’d been a coward and had been out of the house the next morning before he’d gotten up. She stayed gone all day, and he’d returned to college that afternoon.

She’d seduced him, plain and simple. He’d never once shown that kind of interest in her, and she’d felt shame for what she’d done.

She’d felt like her mother.

The thought froze her for a full three seconds. Why would seducing Ben have made her feel like her mother?

She shook her head in denial. “We didn’t need to talk about it. It was just a thing.”

He stared at her for a moment longer, the power of his concentration reaching deep inside her, but she refused to blink first. She would not let him see her nerves.

Or know how much that night had actually meant to her.