Anything But Love (7 page)

He took a bite of steak. “Most people shouldn’t. But Jamal is an English teacher and a great writer. He’ll do a great job.”

“I’m sorry you can’t be there. Are you missing anything else because of me?”

Ben finished his bite before he spoke. “Nothing important. But if I were, it would be my choice. It was my idea to come with you on this trip.” He smiled at her. “And I’m really glad I did.”

That was nice.

She smiled back at him. “So your friend is an English teacher, huh? At your school?”

“Yes.”

“I heard that you won a Teacher of the Year award a couple of years ago. Was it at that school? How long have you taught there?”

“Five years.”

“And you teach math?”

“Math and computer science.” He hesitated. “Actually, I’m taking a new job this fall.”

“You are? At a different school?”

“Yeah.” He hesitated again. “It’s in Chicago, actually.”

She stared at him. “Chicago? You mean . . . you’re leaving New York?”

“That’s the plan.”

Ben wasn’t part of her life and hadn’t been for a long time. So why did she feel so dismayed at this news?

“Well,” she said after a moment. “A lot of people will miss you. What’s in Chicago?”

“An experiment. Someone I met in college is starting an inner-city program for at-risk kids that could be a template for urban school districts around the country. She offered me a chance to be a part of it, and I said yes.”

“Oh.” She paused. “That sounds exciting. But won’t you miss your friends and family?”

He nodded. “Yeah, of course. But sometimes it’s good to start something new.” He took his last bite of steak and sat back in his chair. “That’s what you have a chance to do, Jess. Start a new chapter in your life.”

The waiter came to clear their dishes and offer dessert menus. Ben took one but Jessica shook her head, and he looked at her quizzically.

“Are you sure you don’t want to look? You’re on vacation, after all.”

“I know, but I don’t eat dessert.”

“Sure you do. Or you did, anyway. Why did you stop?”

She frowned. “Come on, Ben. You know why.”

“Because of your weight?”

She shrugged. “It’s not just about appearance,” she said. “It’s also about health. I wasn’t at a healthy weight in junior high. I don’t want to go back to that.” She paused. “Anyway, I’ve been on a diet for fifteen years. I’m used to it.”

Ben was quiet for a moment, glancing over the menu before meeting her eyes again. “How about this. I’ll order dessert, and you can have a bite if you want one.”

That sounded doable—and tempting. “What dessert would you pick?”

He grinned and held out the menu. “They all look good to me. What looks good to you?”

She took the menu from him and ran her eyes down the listings. Apple tart, flourless chocolate cake, bread pudding—

Hot fudge sundae.

“Okay, I can tell by the look in your eyes that you’ve found it. Which one?”

He could read her that easily?

She frowned at him over the top of the menu. “The hot fudge sundae, if you must know.”

Ben looked delighted, which was kind of sweet. “You used to love ice cream, so that makes sense. Let’s order it.”

“But I’m only going to have one bite.”

“One perfect, delectable bite.” He called the waiter over and placed their order—a hot fudge sundae and two cocktails. Then he sat back and looked at her.

“What do you want to do after dinner?”

She sighed. “I was going to start on the notes to all the people who sent wedding gifts so I have them ready when I get back to New York. I brought the stationery with me.”

“No way.”

She blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“I’m not kidding. I’ll burn that stationery if I have to, but I’m not letting you do anything wedding-related on this trip. I didn’t ask what you
should
do after dinner. I asked what you
want
to do. If you were here to have fun, what would you do?”

She looked out the window at the dark night. Clouds had rolled in since that afternoon, covering the moon and stars, but she could see lanterns twinkling along the path that led down to the ocean.

“Take a walk on the beach, I guess.”

“Okay, then. That’s what we’ll do.”

“But all those gifts—”

“Can wait. What’s going to happen if you wait ten days to write those notes?”

She thought about it. “Nothing, I guess. But I hate thinking of it hanging over me.”

“So don’t think about it. Forget about it until you get back. Better yet, when you get back, ask your sister to deal with it. She’s your maid of honor.”

“I couldn’t do that.”

“Sure you could. But you can figure that out when you’re home. For now, you’re on vacation in Bermuda with a hot fudge sundae and a dark and stormy on the way.”

“That reminds me. What’s a dark and stormy, and why did you order me one?”

“It’s rum and ginger beer, and I ordered it for you because that’s one of the drinks Bermuda is famous for.” He looked up as the waiter arrived, setting their cocktails in front of them. “If you don’t like it, I’ll drink it.”

She lifted the heavy crystal glass and took a hesitant sip.

“Okay, it’s good.”

“Perfect,” Ben said as the waiter set down their ice cream. “And since we already know you like hot fudge sundaes, I think our project is off to a pretty good start.”

“Project? What project?”

“The Finding Out What Jessica Likes and Getting Her to Do Those Things project.”

“That’s a really long title,” she said, looking at the enormous sundae on the table between them. She dug her spoon into the ice cream, making sure to get a good dollop of fudge and whipped cream.

She put the bite in her mouth and gave a moan of pleasure. “Oh my God, that’s good.”

Ben didn’t say anything, and she glanced up. He was staring at her with an odd expression.

“What is it?”

He shook his head and picked up his own spoon.

“Nothing’s wrong. I like to see you enjoying yourself, that’s all.” He took a bite, and then it was his turn to make a sound of pleasure.

“You’re enjoying it too, huh?”

“Yeah.” He lifted his dark and stormy, smiling at her over the rim. “But I enjoy things all the time. It’s more of a special occasion for you.”

Ben did enjoy things. He always had.

A sudden memory of their senior year of high school flashed before her mind’s eye.

Ben had dated Alexis Shaw for most of that year. They didn’t do a lot of PDAs, or maybe Jessica just didn’t see them. But one day she’d caught sight of them in an empty classroom. They were leaning up against a wall, kissing. That’s all it had been—just kissing. But something in the way they’d abandoned themselves so completely to each other had twisted her insides.

She would never be that free with someone. That lustful. That happy.

“Would you like another bite?”

She came back to the present when Ben asked that question, gesturing with his spoon toward the sundae.

She found herself thinking of him in the ocean that afternoon, his bare torso hard and sculpted and golden in the sun. Then she flashed back to the teenage boy he’d been, kissing his girlfriend like it was the most important thing he’d ever do.

Her cheeks burned. What had made her think of that long-ago moment? And why was she picturing him in his bathing suit?

“No, thanks,” she said, lowering her eyes and taking another sip of her drink.

The meal drew to an end soon after. When Jessica rose from her chair, a wave of dizziness made her realize that two martinis and a very strong dark and stormy had, in fact, made themselves felt.

Aha! That’s why she was thinking of Ben in his bathing suit. She was tipsy.

Ben offered her his arm as they left the restaurant, and she started to giggle.

He raised an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

“You being formal.”

He smiled down at her. “I wasn’t being formal. I was just trying to keep you from falling down. You seem a little, uh, exhilarated.”

“Exhilarated? That’s the best euphemism for being drunk I’ve ever heard.” She threw her hands up in the air. “I’m exhilarated!”

Ben took one of her hands and tucked it under his arm. “Good for you. Now let’s go take that walk by the beach.”

But when they reached the doors at the other end of the lobby, they saw through the glass that it had begun to rain.

“Wait here,” Ben told her. “I’ll grab an umbrella from the front desk.”

Jessica nodded. But after he left, some impulse made her push through the doors to the shelter of the portico.

Outside she could hear the rain as well as see it. It pattered down onto the roof above her, the grassy lawn, and the flagstones of the path that led to the ocean.

As a kid, she’d loved summer showers. She’d loved jumping from puddle to puddle in Central Park, her skin warm and wet and her hair heavy with rainwater. She remembered smoothing it back from her face until it was as sleek as a seal’s pelt.

Of course it was against her mother’s rules to go out in the rain without an umbrella. But that had been in the days when she would still, once in a while, do something she wasn’t supposed to do.

Before she realized what she intended, she’d stepped out from under the portico roof and onto the flagstone path.

The rain was coming down harder now, and it didn’t take long for her to get soaking wet.

“Jess!”

That was Ben, coming to her rescue.

She turned just as he reached her, opening the umbrella he’d brought to shelter her from the rain.

“What happened? Why’d you come out here?”

This was quintessential Ben—concerned for others, not noticing or caring about his own comfort. He was holding the umbrella over her and getting wet himself, but it was obvious he wasn’t worried about that.

“You’re soaked,” he said, frowning down at her.

He was so handsome and strong. So kind, so warmhearted, so comfortable in his own skin.

Everything she wasn’t. Everything she could never be.

Years ago, when they were friends, Ben had tried to put some of his warmth and bravery into her. He’d failed, but that hadn’t stopped him from trying again—right up until the moment she’d pushed him away for good.

And now, years later, he’d shown up in her life at her very worst moment, trying to help her stand on her feet again.

Trying to give her shelter from the rain.

She took the umbrella from him and tossed it aside.

“What the—”

She put her hands on his shoulders. The material of his suit was wet beneath her palms, and she moved her hands to his face.

He went absolutely still when she did that, staring down at her.

“What are you doing, Jess?”

His voice was gruff, wary . . . but there was something else there, too.

Desire.

“I want something.”

The rain was coming down harder. Another couple came out of one of the cottages and hurried toward them, staring in astonishment before scurrying into the shelter of the hotel lobby.

She could feel Ben’s jaw tighten under her hands. “Wanting something doesn’t always make it a good idea.”

She shook her head slowly. “Oh, no. You don’t get to say that to me now, after you spent the last twenty-four hours telling me I should do what I want.”

His dark eyes seemed to glitter in the light that spilled out of the hotel windows. His chest was rising and falling with more effort than she would have thought necessary for someone just standing still.

“Jessica—”

“You hardly ever call me that.”

“Call you what?”

“Jessica.”

She saw his Adam’s apple jump as he swallowed. “Jess, then.”

“No.”

“No, what?”

“I liked it. Call me Jessica again.”

He closed his eyes briefly and opened them again. Then he took hold of her wrists and moved her hands away from his face.

“Jessica,” he said, and the low rumble of his voice saying the three syllables of her name made her shiver. “I don’t think—”

“Ben. Ben. What about the project? Finding Out What Jessica Likes?”

“I just—”

“What are you protecting me from now?”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask you, and you’re already protecting me from whatever it is. What do you think I’m going to ask?”

He took a deep breath. “You’re right. I don’t know. What is it you want to do?”

“I want to go swimming.”

His eyebrows rose. “That’s it?”

She was tempted to cross her fingers behind her back, but he still held her wrists. “That’s it.” Suddenly enjoying herself immensely, she smiled up at him. “Why, Ben, what did you think I was going to say?”

He released her hands. “You want to go swimming in the rain?”

“Yes. I’ve always wanted to, but it’s not the kind of thing people do. According to you, though, I can do whatever I want on this trip. Of course, that doesn’t mean you have to go with me. I don’t mind going alone.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not letting you swim alone at night. I’m coming with you.”

Excellent.

“Okay, then.”

The lobby doors opened and an older couple came out, exclaiming in dismay at the rain beyond the shelter of the porch. When they saw Ben and Jessica standing in the downpour, they stared in bewilderment.

“Here,” Ben said, stooping to grab their discarded umbrella and walking over to hand it to them. “Apparently we won’t be needing this.”

When he came back to Jessica, he crooked his elbow with all the aplomb of an escort at a grand ball. “Shall we?” he asked.

She laid her hand primly on his arm. “Yes, indeed.”

Then they walked sedately down the flagstone path.

There was something beautifully surreal about strolling through the pouring rain in their evening clothes. Most people were safely in their rooms or in the restaurant, but every so often someone would go scurrying past, holding an umbrella or a jacket over their heads. And she and Ben walked along as though there weren’t a cloud in the sky.

They were soaked to the skin. After a minute Ben said, “Your dress is probably ruined. Not to mention your shoes.”