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Chapter Seven
Benjamin 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.”
