Beauty and the Boss (Modern Fairytales) (7 page)

Like…
really
.

Chapter Seven

B
enjamin followed her down the sidewalk toward his waiting town car, adjusting his tight pants again. As she walked, her soft brown hair blew gently in the breeze, looking way too touchable to resist for long. And with her, he didn’t want to resist at all. There was something about her that made him want to ignore years of self-restraint and controlled emotions. That made him want to be different. He wasn’t sure if that was a bad thing or not, but he didn’t give a damn.

He was going to roll with it. See where Maggie Donovan took him.

When she passed his town car, he stopped and cleared his throat. She glanced over her shoulder at him, her brow wrinkled. His heart rate increased just because she was so damn pretty, standing in the last afternoon sun on a busy New York street, wearing a black wool coat and a purple knit hat, staring at
him
. It did things to him.

Things he didn’t fully understand.

The urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her, right there in front of all the people pushing past them, hit him like a fist to the gut. He didn’t, though. Instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. After all, there was no one around to fool, so he wasn’t supposed to kiss her. “You walking to our date, or what?”

“Oh, right.” She shoved an errant piece of hair out of her face and shivered. Her cheeks were rosy red, just like the tip of her nose. “I zoned out for a second there.”

He waved his driver off so he could open the door for her himself. “No worries.”

She slid inside and peeked out at him. “I’m here now.”

“Good.” He followed her in and closed the door. Something smelled tantalizing and his stomach growled, but he couldn’t quite place it. After he settled in, he teased her. “I’d be pretty damn bored if I was going on this date by myself.”

Shaking her head, she glanced out the window and muttered, “But I’d be safer.”

“Maggie.” Even though she’d spoken, he had the feeling it hadn’t been to him. “You’re doing it again.”

She startled, only further proving his point. “Doing what?”

“Talking to yourself.”

“Yeah.” She adjusted her skirt and shrugged. “I do that sometimes.”

He smiled. He couldn’t help it. “So you said.”

“Oh.” She blushed even more. “Right.”

He turned her way. His thigh brushed hers, and she shivered before shifting closer to her side of the car. For the first time in he didn’t know how long, he was
excited
. This date was going to tell him more about Maggie. What she liked. How she thought. What kind of woman she was. And he couldn’t fucking wait to find out so he could blow her mind when it was his turn to pick the date again.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” The car pulled away from the curb, and she smiled, seeming to shake off some of her nerves. “First? Close your eyes.”

“Are you going to strip naked for me? If so, I’m not closing my damn eyes.”

She rolled hers. “Not a chance.”

Sighing dramatically, he leaned back against the seat and did as she requested. His heart sped up, because even doing something as juvenile as closing his eyes so she could surprise him was exciting. Fresh.
Fun
. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had fun, before she’d crashed into his life. “Fine. My eyes are closed.”

She waved her hand in front of his face. He felt it. When he didn’t react, she pulled something out that crinkled. After setting it on his lap, she dusted off her hands. “Okay. Open them.”

He did, and glanced down at his lap. A Wendy’s bag sat in his lap, hot and greasy and artery clogging—but so fucking good. “Is that…?”

“A spicy chicken sandwich and cheese fries?” She grinned, looking way too damn proud of herself. “You bet your last cow it is.”

His last
cow
? The things that came out of her mouth…

His stomach groaned in anticipation, and he stared at the bag. This was his favorite bad meal, his vice. He’d lived off this shit in college, but he hadn’t had it in…God, at least six years. “How did you find out?”

“Oh, I’m just that good,” she said again. Leaning back, she grinned and pulled out her own bag. “Eat up. I won’t judge you…much.”

And the thing was, it was true. She wouldn’t judge him for…well, anything. And that was so refreshing and amazing that he wasn’t sure what to do with it. Or her. He opened the bag, his mouth watering. “I’m going to have to do double time at the gym tonight after this, but it’s worth it.”

“Is that when you work out?” she asked, dropping a fry into her mouth. He couldn’t look away from her lips. “At night?”

“Yeah.” Clearing his throat, he pulled his own meal out. “I do it before bed.”

She swallowed. “Where do you go?”

“My place.” He opened the lid of his cheese fries. “I have a gym there.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course you do. I should’ve guessed.”

They fell into companionable silence as they ate. By the time they finished, he felt a hundred pounds heavier, but more satisfied than a college kid after a night in a strip club. If someone had told him he’d eat Wendy’s on a date with his fiancée, he’d have laughed till he fell over.

Yet, here he was.

“Thanks for the dinner,” he said, wiping his hands off with a napkin.

She did the same, grinning. “You’re welcome.”

So. First tip? She liked Wendy’s. Not expensive restaurants. “Now that we’ve stuffed ourselves…” Looking outside, he tried to figure out where they were. They were approaching Penn Station, heading down Eighth Avenue. “What’s next?”

“This.” She handed him a beer. His mother had always said it was a poor man’s drink, and he was never to be seen with one in his hand. He didn’t agree, but he also refused to give her yet another thing to bitch about. “Drink up.”

He tightened his hold, remembering how much he’d enjoyed beer, once upon a time. “Where did you find out about
this
?”

“That you drink the best wines and whiskeys in public, but truly prefer a twenty-bucks-a-case bottle of beer?” She lifted hers to her lips. “Oh, I have my ways, Benjamin.”

He studied her, lifting his own beer to his mouth to take a swig. It meshed well with the Wendy’s he’d just eaten. He’d asked her to show him what she liked in a date, and instead of taking him to some pottery exhibit or boring art exhibit—she was giving him everything
he
liked instead. It didn’t make any sense. Why would she do that?

Why would she care?

Lost in thought, he swished the beer in his mouth before swallowing. “Let me guess.” He swirled the amber liquid in the bottle. “Our destination is a place that most people wouldn’t suspect I like to go to, but you somehow discovered it.”

Her lips twitched, and he saw those blue flecks in her eyes that he’d come to crave more than anything else. “Fine. I’ll tell you. We’re going to the Rangers game.”

Jesus. She’d done her homework, all right. If he wasn’t aware it was what she did for a living, it might’ve creeped him out. He understood now why she’d been upset at his botched attempt at a date Saturday night. It was painfully clear that she’d put a shitload of thought into this outing, into the things he’d like, and all he’d done was take her on his generic first date—and he’d assumed she’d be just as lost in his charm as other woman always had been. Maggie was a special kind of woman.

The kind who cared more about
his
fun than
hers
.

He swallowed hard, shame churning in his gut. “Let me guess. You found out because you’re just that good?”

“Nah. That one was easy to figure out all on my own,” she said, laughing. “You have a puck on the corner of your desk.”

And
that
made him feel even worse. She was so much better at this than he was. He was used to skating through life without a care, getting what he wanted from people with a snap of his fingers, and he’d dared to treat her like the rest of the people in his life.

He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

A
few hours later, in the last seconds of the game, Benjamin shot to his feet, a beer clasped precariously in his left hand. The opposing team had slammed a Ranger into the wall, and a fight broke out. “Get the piece of shit!” he shouted, laughing when the Ranger knocked the other guy to his ass. “Fuck yeah!” As soon as the words left his lips, he looked at Maggie. “Sorry. So sorry.”

She laughed. When she was chilly and rosy, she had freckles that danced across her nose and cheeks. “You can shout curses in front of me. I won’t faint.”

People started clearing out of the arena, but he didn’t move. Neither did she. Truth be told, he didn’t want the night to end. It had been…
fun
. So much fucking fun it was almost like a dream. Like he’d fallen asleep at his desk and would soon wake up with his head resting on a stack of reports, instead of having Maggie at his side.

If that was the case, he didn’t want to wake up. He wanted to stay where he was.

He enjoyed hanging out with Maggie, and if they got up, it would be over. She’d go home, and he’d go home, and he’d be alone in his apartment, like always.

Funny. That didn’t sound as appealing as it had a week ago.

“But still.” He sat back down, his knee brushing against hers. He clenched his jaw. All night long, those accidental touches had been killing him, and she suffered, too. He saw the tension in her growing with each soft touch. He felt it, too. “It’s a respect thing. Gentlemen shouldn’t curse in front of ladies.”

She snorted. “Lucky for you I’m not a lady. I’m just me.”

“Ah, but I disagree.” He turned Maggie’s way, and those gray eyes of hers were glowing with so much
life
. And, damn it, he wanted to feel that way, too. To remember what it felt like when he’d been…well, himself. “You’re more of a lady, and more deserving of respect, than anyone else I’ve ever met. You’re amazing Maggie, and don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.”

She swallowed hard and shifted closer to him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He glanced away, before he did the unthinkable and touched her cheek, or gave up resisting, broke the rules, and kissed her. The worst part was he could see the matching desire burning in her eyes, but she refused to give in. “And I’m sorry for my outburst.”

All his life, he’d been taught to hide his emotions. To never show happiness, fear, or even excitement. For a while, he’d balked against those constraints. He’d been
alive
. But then his father had died, and all that had changed. Around Maggie, the balance shifted again. Tiny pieces of the real him came out to play.

And it was good to get a portion of himself back.

“It makes me happy, seeing you so…” She set a soft hand on his arm. “Free.”

He couldn’t see it, since he’d refocused on the ice, but he could feel it deep down to his soul. It was as if when she touched him, she somehow made him brighter—which was ridiculous. “I’m not free.”

“And you never will be, with your mother on your back.”

He lifted a shoulder, watching the Zamboni smooth the ice. “It’s fine. She’s just got a set of goals in mind for me, and when I don’t follow through with her plans, she gets upset.”

That, and she hates me—for good reason
. But he wouldn’t say that out loud. It would only sound like a pity party, and he didn’t do those.

“I get that,” she said softly. She sipped her beer, also watching the machine as it smoothed away the blemishes in the ice. Too bad they didn’t make those for your life. Benjamin could think of a few incidents he’d like to smooth over, too. Maggie went on. “My ex was like that. Overbearing. Controlling. Irrational.”

He glared down at his beer. “I hope you kicked him to the curb quick.”

“Not quick enough.” She side-eyed him. “Not before I needed a court order against him to make him to leave me alone.”

He growled deep in his throat, not even meaning to. The fact that she’d been scared enough—hurt enough—to need an injunction infuriated him. “What’s his name? I’ll kill him.”

“No need.” She smiled, but it was a sad one. “He did that himself, after writing me a note that told me it was all my fault.”

He swallowed. That kind of history explained so much about her reluctance to let him in. To trust him. Hell, he didn’t blame her. Not after what she’d been through. And the worst part was, Maggie was the kindest person he’d ever met. She didn’t deserve that. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said.

“Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t.” She lifted the beer to her lips. “Either way, it only proves how bad I am at relationships. It’s why I stopped trying. He wasn’t the first guy to show me that love isn’t worth the fight, but I swore he’d be the last.”

Which was why she refused to let him kiss her. She was scared they’d come to a messy end. And even with all of that, she had gone through a hell of a lot of effort to give him the best date he’d ever had. She’d shown him kindness he could never, and
had
never, shown another person. It was humbling, and embarrassing, and it made him like her even more.

He’d needed her to reminded him what it was like to open yourself up and let another person in. And, against all reason, he wanted that person to be
her
. He wanted all of her. Even if he didn’t deserve her.

“Christ.” He shook his head and glared down at his beer. “I’m sorry.”

She froze, her beer still at her lips. Lowering it, she swiped her hand across her mouth. “What for?”

“For not putting in even a fraction of the effort that you’ve obviously put into this date.” He reached out and caught her hand, and for once she didn’t pull away. “I’ll do better next time. I swear it.”

She swallowed hard. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not like we’re
actually
dating.”

He’d become so good at hiding his desires and emotions that he’d forgotten how to voice them out loud. But with Maggie, he wanted to, and he wanted to stop pretending that she was just a way for him to keep his position. “So you keep saying.”

She sipped her beer, not meeting his eyes. “Well, that’s because it’s true.”