Crossing Hathaway (13 page)

“Ah, it was so much fun.” He squeezed me and whispered into my ear. “I’ll put up fifty that you’ll be out of that dress before ten o’clock.”

Snorting, I shoved him back. “You’re so bad. I told you, I’m not—”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re a terrible liar, so I’ll know.” He beamed and flicked his fingers at me. “Now get going. You know he doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

With a sigh, I climbed out of the car, wobbled for a moment on the stupid heels before I turned and waved at Brent as he drove away. Just spending five minutes with that cute-as-a-button man could make all the stresses in my world disappear. Someone should bottle and sell him as an antidepressant medication, make it so every single person would know what it felt like to smile as large as he did.

The stairs up to Hathaway Pharmaceuticals stretched before me like the foothills of a mountain. I took slow steps until I got used to my sea legs. I’d never thought of my legs as nice or particularly long, but the little strappy black shoes transformed them, made them appear shapelier.

I managed to make it to the top and through the doors without tripping and falling on my face. Small miracles. While I waited for the elevator, my heart fluttering beneath my ribs like a hyped up bird, my handbag rang. I jumped and fumbled to open the clutch.

My heart fell when my hand wrapped around the vibrating BlackBerry among the makeup and extra pair of panties Brent had insisted I take. For why, I had no idea. Mine weren’t going anywhere. Part of me had hoped it was the red iPhone, which had mysteriously landed back on my desk Thursday morning. Ben had sent me texts every few hours in the previous two days, some cute, others that brought a blush to my cheeks, and at least a half-dozen reminders of the time of our date. Persistent bastard.

When I looked at the screen, my shoulders slumped. Mom had called me several times since our visit, but I wasn’t ready to talk to her. I didn’t know what to say, and I couldn’t think about it right then, not with Ben waiting upstairs for me. My faculties and willpower needed to be in prime working order or I would be so screwed.

I paced in front of Mr. Hathaway’s door to calm my frayed nerves, smoothing my hands along the silk dress. As Brent had instructed, I applied a little more of the pink gloss he’d put in my bag and smacked my lips together a few times. My shaking hand reached for the doorknob a few times before I backed up and took a deep breath. The top of my hose bunched against my thighs—I’d never worn garters and hose, and it touched me in places I wasn’t used to being touched. I didn’t understand women who wore that sort of clothing every day. Lingerie should come with warning tags:
must be a contortionist to wear this
. I hiked up my skirt, bent down, and fiddled with the lacy tops until it laid flat against my thigh.

A small sound drew my gaze up. Ben stood in the doorway, eyes wide, lips parted. He wore a dark blue dress shirt with the cuffs rolled up over his magnificent forearms and the top few buttons undone, allowing a tiny glimpse of his chest.

My breath caught in my throat as I straightened so fast my spine cracked. Embarrassed, I smoothed my skirt back into place. The harder he stared at my face, the warmer my skin grew. I dropped my stare, shifted my feet, and held a hand to my stomach. “Don’t-don’t you like it?”

Another few moments of silence passed before he blew out a breath and chuckled the dark way men sometimes did when admiring the view.

“Say something, Ben. Please.” I rubbed my burning cheeks, tried and failed to keep from smiling. “If you don’t, I’ll owe Brent twenty bucks.”

Ben uttered a bright laugh. He came to stand in front of me, pushed my hair behind my ear and lifted my chin, leaving a wake of tingles in the path of his touch. His gaze locked on to mine, a smile reflected in their depths. “Words escape me at the moment. Your eyes have always been striking, but in that dress, they are simply mesmerizing.”

“If you say so.” I played my fingers along the embroidery on my skirt. “I mean, thanks.” Funny, I’d expected him to be caught by my overflowing boobs, not my eyes. The guy was weird.

He placed a gentle kiss on my cheek and offered me his arm. “Shall we go in?”

I hesitated, my hands shaking. “Why am I so nervous right now while you’re all Mr. Suave? We’re just going to have dinner. God, what’s the matter with me?”

Christ!
Stupid, chatty mouth.

Ben took my hand and placed it on his chest. My stare got lost in his as his heart thumped a rapid tune against my hand. “Don’t be fooled by what you see.”

Little flutters spread through my chest.

As he intertwined his fingers with mine, he led me into his office. I stumbled along beside him, a little drunk on the endorphins raging up my arm. I couldn’t believe he was as freaked out as I was. With his Greek statue looks and deep voice, he could have had anyone he wanted. So why did I make him nervous?

After seeing Ben appear lighter and more approachable than I’d ever seen him, the thought of telling him about his brother knocked the wind out of me. It brought me back into my head long enough for me to walk up the stairs without tripping.

Ben opened the door to his apartment. The scent of ripe tomatoes and fresh herbs encompassed me. Hinder’s “Lips of an Angel” played on the stereo.

I inhaled, eased my hand out of his so I could think well enough to speak. “What is that? It smells amazing.”

“Knowing your aversion to exotic cuisine, I decided to make spaghetti, my grandmother’s secret recipe.” He flashed a heart-stopping smile. “I thought it was normal enough not to scare you away.”

Stunned, my brow crinkled. “You mean you cooked it yourself? Like, from scratch? You chopped and stirred? No jars or cans?”

He nodded, one of pure pride. “I can teach you how if you like.”

“I don’t think so.” I held up my hand. “I can barely make toast without burning the house down. The stove and I don’t get along so well.”

With a little laugh, Ben gestured to a wooden bar next to the kitchen. Crystal glasses hung on brass rails along the top. “Would you like a glass of wine? I have a nice Shiraz.”

“Uh—sure. I have no idea what a Shiraz is, but I’ll have a small glass. I don’t drink much.”

After pouring two glasses of red wine from a decanter on the bar, he handed me one, brushing his fingertips along my wrist as he did.

I shivered and tossed my bag onto a soft chair before it could drop from my hand and spill my goodies all over his hardwood. He might get the wrong idea if he saw the extra undies I’d stowed in there. Not to mention the condom. Jeez, I was gonna kill Brent if Ben saw that!

“To new friendships and possibilities.” His expression peaceful, Ben held up his glass.

I clinked mine against his and took a sip of the fruity wine. Warmth spread down my throat and into my stomach. “Is that what we are, Ben? Friends?”
Damn
. Even I caught the disappointment in my voice.

Some heavy emotion invaded his features as he took a step closer and set his glass on a bookshelf behind me. His eyes seemed to darken as his gaze fixed on mine. “I think you know we’re more than that, but I’m trying very hard not to say anything to frighten you.”

I swallowed, put my hand over my frantic heart, and stepped back. “You know I don’t date.”

His lip twitched. “So you keep saying, yet here you are with me, looking stunning in that dress and a new hairstyle. And if you don’t enjoy my company, then why is your skin flushed?” He brushed the backs of his fingers along my cheek. “Beautiful.”

My breath shuddered, and I leaned back against the bookcase for balance before I toppled over. “You’re not playing fair, Ben.”

“Who said anything about playing fair?” He turned and started for the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

I stared after him, expecting Dr. Jekyll to vanish any moment and Mr. Hyde to appear again and rip my face off with one insult or another. “Sure.” Though I had no idea how I’d fit any food in my stomach with the herds of butterflies partying in there.

“After supper I’ll give you that tour I promised.”

Wearing a ridiculous grin that bunched up my cheeks, I took my wine and sat on a stool at the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. Ben chopped garlic, tomato, and onion with a knife big enough to fillet an elephant. Shredded herbs. Mixed oils with stuff I had no name for. He topped a half loaf of bread with the concoction and drizzled it with the oil before he shoved the whole thing into the oven. I couldn’t take my gaze off him, the way he moved, like a graceful dance. The suggestiveness I found in his movements transfixed me, summoned warmth into places that had been dormant for years before meeting him. I didn’t know if his enticement was intentional or just a natural talent. Possibly just my neglected libido finding a buffet before me and rearing its hungry head. His dark curls shifted as he turned and bent down. My fingers twitched at the thought of trailing them through the soft strands.

I shook myself at my utter lack of self-control. “So … are you Italian? You said it was your grandmother’s recipe.”

He nodded, wiping his hands on a towel. “My mother is Italian and my father was American. It was my grandmother who taught me to cook, though. She died a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry. Were you very close to her?”

“She was the only person in my family who could make me laugh, so yes, we were close.” A sad smile arched his full lips as he leaned an elbow on the counter beside me. “You remind me how to laugh, Evangeline.”

I couldn’t hold his gaze. A nervous snicker burst out. “I’ve made it kind of easy for you. I’m sure it’s not every day you find an employee dry humping a chair in your office or so completely useless with chopsticks the food ends up on the wrong side of the table.”

His laugh came from deep in his chest, notes from a bass drum that vibrated along my spine and tickled my nerve endings. He slipped his hands over mine, momentarily lighting me on fire. “That’s part of what endeared you to me, but I hope you know it’s much more than that.”

I frowned and sat back, warning bells going off in my head. “You barely know me. And you’ve only seen me act like an idiot. I can’t be around you for five seconds without saying or doing something completely asinine.”

“All I see is a genuine, lovely woman who I trust to tell me what’s on her mind instead of making me guess. One who isn’t daunted by my bullheadedness, who thinks I’m beautiful. And now that I’ve seen you in a dress, I must confess that I’m a leg man.” He winked and went back to the oven. “Why don’t you find a seat in the dining room? The bruschetta is almost ready.”

He … trusted me? If I waited until after dinner to tell him about Richard, would he consider that a lie? Would he be mad at me for waiting two days to tell him? I couldn’t take the chance. I wouldn’t. “I need to tell you something, and you’re not going to like it.” The words came blurting out, all mushed together.

Ben stopped midbend to open the oven. His gaze darted to me and dropped to the floor before he walked around the counter. “I thought you were going to give me four dates to show you who I am.” Mouth held tight, he shoved his fingers through his hair and tossed up his hand. “This is me, the real me, not the asshole who sent you on a wild hunt for coffee in the middle of a torrential downpour. I want you to know the real me.”

The wilted slant to his shoulders and sadness in his voice stuck daggers in my heart. I put my hand on his cheek. “It’s not that, Ben. It’s Richard. He found Brent and I at the mall a few nights ago and told me to give you a message.”

Ben looked me up and down, took my face in his hands. He spoke through clenched teeth. “Did he hurt you?”

“No.” I covered his hands with mine and held them in place. “He just scared me a bit. Brent more than me, I think.”

“Why didn’t you call me right then?” Growling, he turned and pressed his palms against his eyes. “He’s dangerous, Evangeline! I thought after meeting him you would understand that without me telling you.”

“I’m sorry. I thought—I guess somewhere behind my denial I thought we could … I don’t know … maybe have a good time together tonight and I’d tell you before I went home. But then, what you just said about trusting me…” A sigh heaved out of my chest. “A lot of people have lied to me lately, and I know how it feels to be duped so I won’t be one of those people. I will never lie to you, Ben.”

He shook his head, dropped his arms to his sides. His tone fell an octave lower, lifeless and hopeless. “I’ve been so stupid. When he saw you that day—I should have known he’d do this. I should never have asked you here.” Completely shut down, cold, he grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the door.

I pried his hand off and moved away. “I know he’s hurt you before. That’s why you shut yourself away, isn’t it? Not because of your dad, or your passion for the business, but because you didn’t want to give Richard anyone to use against you again.”

“You need to leave now. I can’t do this.” He wouldn’t look at me.

“So that’s it?” I wanted to scream, to throw fists, but I had a hard time even drawing in air. “He wins? I let my dad’s cruelty rule my life, Ben, and I’ve been miserable, just as I think you are. We can figure this out.”

“You don’t know him.” The sharpness of his words sliced at me.

“It doesn’t matter. I can help you figure out how to get him out of your life.”

Ben jammed a finger at me. “No! I won’t let you get involved in this.”

“It’s too late for that. Even if you throw me out on my ass right now, he’s still going to come after me. You know that. If you want the truth…” I sighed, the full weight of my heart settling on me. I edged closer. “I don’t want to be alone anymore. I’m more afraid of walking away from you right now then I am of anything Richard can do to me, whether it’s rational or not. There, I said it. I didn’t want to fall for you. I fought it tooth and nail, but I think I jumped off that cliff the first day you took your damn shirt off, and I’ve been falling ever since.” My fingers reached out for him, but the set of his jaw and the rigidity of his arms held ramrod straight at his sides made me stop. “I know when I eventually hit bottom, it’ll hurt like hell. But right this moment, I don’t care.”