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“Eyeing my mulled wine, are you?” she said, catching the direction of his gaze.
“Mmm, it’s really quite tasty. A bit of cinnamon and orange zest. Sweet, spicy and warm going down the gullet. Like a cozy blanket settling over your insides. You really should try some.”
Ben raised his hand to do just that.
But before his gesture was even half formed, every serving maid and even the mistress of the innkeeper herself came barreling down upon their table.
“What can I get fer ye, Sir?” the portly missus enthused, wiping her reddened hands upon her apron.
“I saved a slice of carrot cake just for you!” one of the waitresses, presumably the innkeeper’s daughter, trilled.
“Can I get you anything else?” a rather voluptuous barmaid murmured in a sultry voice, with a come-hither look.
“Anything at all that you mightdesire?”
Mother and daughter glared at the hired wench…er…woman, but the would-be seductress paid them no heed.
“Ah…”
Ben felt like a deer caught in headlights. He’d never done well with overt flirtation. It always embarrassed him to be the center of such explicit attention.
“My brother would like the same drink I’m having,” Annie said easily, smiling kindly at the three women.
“And that carrot cake sounds lovely. Please bring two servings if you have it.”
When the women kept staring at Ben, and Ben didn’t know where else to look but to stare helplessly back like a mouse caught in a trap, Annie gently shooed them on their way.
As soon as the females departed, Ben released a breath of relief, while Annie snickered at his expense.
“Brother?” he whispered. “I thought we were cousins.”
“Not to these people, we’re not,” she replied. “It’s less suspicious if we’re rooming together as close blood relations instead of potentially distant relatives. Cousins marry each other all the time in these parts. Wouldn’t want anyone thinking untoward thoughts about how close we actually are, now would we?”
He shook his head, more from exasperation than in agreement.
“I love you, Benji,” she chortled. “You’re too cute.”
He arched a brow at her.
“Um…I love you too?”
She chuckled behind her hand as if he had completely missed the point. Which, he supposed he had. Why was she always laughing at him?
“You’re a rare beast, Mr. D’Angelo. Looking like you do, but not knowing or caring the effect you have on people,” she explained the source of her amusement.
“If you were any less clueless than you are, you’d be insufferable.”
He frowned at her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
It was her turn to roll her eyes.
“Oh, come on! You should be a pro by now at handling all this feminine admiration.”
She looked around the relatively packed room.
“And the male attention too, if the surreptitious looks you’re getting are any indication. But you flounder every time. I’ve witnessed this over and over again since before you even hit puberty. You have no idea how gorgeous you are.”
