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“Hey.” Ben smiled nervously up at me.
“Hey.” I took my seat across from him before Ben could stand and perform his gentlemanly duties. “What was that about?”
“Nothing important.” It was none of his business but he main issue was that I didn’t want to talk about it. “So, what’s good here?”
He shrugged. “I’m a steak kind of guy so I had chateaubriand when I came here with Mom.”
He took his mother to a fancy French restaurant. Was this guy for real? “What did your mama order?”
“Coq au vin but only because it’s the only French word she can say with a perfect accent.”
“I envy the relationship you have with your mama. It’s sweet.” It made him more appealing and if not for the fact that he drove us all the way to the ass end of Texas for our date, I might be utterly charmed by him.
“Sweet?” I nodded and he rolled his eyes. “You spend a few weeks with her meddling and see if you still feel that way.”
Unless I ran into her by accident around town, chances were slim I would ever meet Ben’s mama so I didn’t even let that thought grab hold. “My mama wasn’t much of a meddler.”
“Lucky girl.”
I was about to tell him that I’d much rather have what he had but luckily, the handsome twentysomething waiter arrived at the perfect moment with our orders, preventing me from sharing too much, too soon. A comfortable silence settled over the table as we tucked into our meal, testing out the new ingredients before conversation resumed.
If pressed, I would have to say the date was one of the most engaging I’d ever been on. It really was too bad that Ben was going through the motions. His words were sincere and his actions were too, but something about it all rang hollow. As if he was just powering through until we got to the end of the night. “Is everything all right? Do you not like the duck?” Ben’s brows dipped into a concerned vee and I waved him off.
“It’s delicious, actually. I guess I must have drifted off for a moment, daydreaming about this meal at a real French café.” It was a terrible lie except for the fact that it was totally believable.
“Then I guess I better step up my date game.”
I nodded and flashed a playful smile. “Your date game a little rusty, Ben?” He did all right, in my opinion, for a man who didn’t really want to go out on this date.
“Probably. You tell me, how am I doing?” His confidence, as usual, bordered on arrogance but it was all part of his charm, his certainty that I was having a wonderful time in his company.
“So far, so good.”
“I accept that answer, for now. By dessert you’ll be ready to drag me home and ear my clothes off.”
I didn’t need dessert or the promise of it, for that particular thought to enter my mind. “You wish,” I said instead.
“That too,” he growled and the sound shot straight to my nipples and down my midsection to pool between my thighs. “More than anything.”
I spent the rest of dinner as well as the long drive back to Pilgrim, talking myself out of sleeping with Ben.
On the first date.
Ben
“Hey Ben.” Joss opened the door for me with a smile that didn’t reach her beautiful blue eyes and my confidence floundered. “What’s up?”
My smile doubled hers as I held up two big canvas sacks. “You didn’t ask me what I was doing here, so I guess that’s progress. Right?”
She let out a barely audible sigh and stepped back. “No point asking a question when I already know the answer.” And she didn’t seem happy about that fact. “What did you bring?”
“Something that you’ll find totally irresistible.” I flashed another smile, hoping to pull a bigger, brighter smile out of her as I stepped inside and kicked off my shoes. “Mom’s home cooking. Well, my mom’s home cooking anyway.”
“What’s on the menu?”
I ignored her less than enthusiastic tone and made my way to the kitchen. “Fried chicken, of course.”
“Of course,” she repeated with a half-smile.
“Garlic mashed potatoes, gravy optional. Mac & cheese, which I made so technically Ben’s home cooking, and Mom’s green bean casserole. I stopped for store bought rolls because we need rolls.”
“I could eat.”
I turned to look at Joss, to search for any clues about what was bothering her, but she looked like the Joss I knew. Her blond hair was still damp from a shower, her pale skin was pink and refreshed which only highlighted the sharpness of her blue eyes. She wore flannel pants and a tank top that clung to her breasts and dipped in waist. She looked beautiful. “Are you all right, Joss?”
She nodded but even that was half-hearted. “I’m fine, Ben. How are you?”
