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Ouch! Belle scooted to one side of the bench seat, saving her ass from the spring in the ripped vinyl cushion. Her taste buds tingled and nose twitched—her mustard-and-cheese turkey sandwich and bowl of vegetable soup a feast for her senses. Saliva pooled in her mouth.
“I’m surprised you picked this place, Belle. It’s a dive.”
She shrugged as patron chatter, clanking dishes, and twangy country music with a surprisingly decent guitar riff drifted throughout the spacious eatery. “Dives are the best. This is down-home cooking, not the generic crap every chain serves.”
“True, but I’d throw that in the trash.” Benji nodded at the large equine painting on the wall at their booth.
“Same here.” The colors had faded so much that the black horse appeared gray. Benji’s frustrated groan rang in her ears as he hacked at his rib-eye steak with a dull knife.
“Good food. Crappy utensils.” He drowned the bites in barbecue sauce.
“Hold on.” She dug through her purse and withdrew Benji’s beloved black-handled steak knife. “Here ya go. Don’t say I never gave you anything.”
“You stole one of my knives?”
His eyes widened as she slid the knife across the table.
He picked it up, laughing, and pulled off a piece of lint. “You’re crazy, Belle, and I absolutely love it.” After he swiped his napkin over the serrated blade, he cut up the steak.
She stabbed her fork into a juicy chunk and popped it. Oh, boy. The delicious meat and sauce melted on her tongue.
“That’s fair. I snagged your fries last week.”
“But you also paid for it.” She stole another bite and grabbed her sandwich. “Maybe I’ll choose a French restaurant next time. You like to treat your lady friends to special dates, right?”
He smirked. “All right. Just don’t throw wine on me. I’d hate to tell the baby about the time his momma lost her temper and embarrassed his poor daddy in front of a dozen strangers.”
“I’ll tell the baby about the time her daddy humiliated her momma in front of her doctor.” Her cheeks heated. “Why did you blab about our sex life to Dr. Burel? And copulation is just a proper term. You shouldn’t have implied how wild we get in bed.”
Though they’d only had sex twice, they nearly set the bed on fire each time.
“C’mon, babe. Of course I had to. I’m not about to let anyone believe I’m a lousy lay, even a doctor. I’m boatloads of fun. Don’t deny it.”
“I won’t.” Belle fanned her face with her hand as she giggled like a damn schoolgirl. Then she playfully kicked at him from under the table and missed his leg. The twinkle in his eyes and his deep, sexy laughter curled her toes.
A handful of patrons glanced over, so they settled down.
“I’m sorry I embarrassed you, but I needed to know how physical we could get.” He dipped a potato wedge in the sauce. “I don’t want to hurt you or induce a miscarriage.”
“You’re a strange one, Benjamin Starwell. I misjudged you, but you didn’t give me much reason to think of you as more than a hound dog at first.”
“I am a hound dog.” He sighed and dropped his fork on the plate with a soft clatter. “I’ve never been in a long-term, serious relationship and never wanted to be. Until now. When we’re apart, I can’t stop thinking about you. When I’m with you, my first thought is how to make you smile. Not how soon can I strip you naked. Don’t get me wrong, I want your body more than I care to breathe, but sex is not my top priority. You’re special to me.”
She sipped her lemonade. “That’s a good line, Benji.”
“It’s not a line. It’s the truth, and it comes from the part of me few people see.”
“Why are you letting me see it?”
“Because you’re the one.”
The air in her lungs froze. Her heart pounded faster.
“I won’t ask you to marry me again until we’ve gotten to know each other better, but we could be happy together.” He rubbed his neck. “I don’t make sappy statements at the drop of a hat. I’m always cautious with what I say to women.”
“I bet you have a ton of ex-girlfriends whose mouths would drop open if they heard this.”
“Most likely.”
She reached across the table and grasped his work-roughened hand. “My luck with men stinks, so I tend to lump the whole gender in the same crappy category. I’m glad you’re proving me wrong.”
“What happened with your exes?”
“I’d rather not say. I’m in a pretty good mood and don’t want to spoil it.”
“Okay. What about your music? How did you get started?”
“Ooh, fun topic.” She braced her elbows on the table. “According to Mom, I grabbed the TV remote one day and flipped through the channels until a music station popped up. The videos enthralled me—her words—and she couldn’t pull me away from the tube. I was around eight years old. After that, I wanted to play strings, so my dad bought me a child-sized guitar.”
“Ever take professional lessons?”
“Not really. I took band in middle school and high school. I learned a couple of other instruments, but the acoustic guitar is my favorite. Mom and Dad always encouraged me to practice, and they bought me a more advanced guitar one year for Christmas.”
“Good for you. Not everyone has supportive parents.”
“I doubt I would’ve kept at it if not for them. I sucked at first.”
He laughed. “You gotta start somewhere.”
“I painted flowers on the back of my first one, which violated the warranty, and the store wouldn’t take it back. Dad was furious.” She shared his chuckle and sighed.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to be Hollywood famous, but I can’t make a living performing in bars and restaurants.” She bit into her delicious sandwich and chased it with hot, tangy soup. “I’ve sent demos to indie record labels all across the state and even further west. My dream is to sign with a local one since I don’t want to leave Denver, but no one has called or emailed me about it. For all I know, the demos ended up in the trash, not played. When I call to check in, a secretary or some assistant tells me not to hold my breath.”
“That sucks, but anything could happen. Are you from Denver?”
“Durango, but I moved here for college. Mia and I bunked together, and Chanel and Shea lived across the hall. After graduation, I found the apartment where I’m at now.” She picked at her sandwich. “With the baby on the way, the best I should hope for is steady gigs in the local scene. I want the baby, but I don’t want to give up my music.”
“You shouldn’t have to. It’s who you are. I’d love to cheer you on in concert.”
“How about this Saturday? I have a gig at Tempes. It’s a bar in Aurora.”
He arched his eyebrow. “Didn’t someone die there a while back?”
“That’s so horrible. Some man stabbed his ex-girlfriend’s new guy on the sidewalk right outside the building.”
“You go to places like that alone? No, not alone—with my child.”
“Forget I mentioned it.”
“No way. I’ll go.” He tunneled his hand through his chin-length hair. “Someone has to protect you.”
“Can the macho crap or I’ll blow chunks.” She rolled her eyes as he huffed. “Bad things don’t happen there often, but even if they did, I refuse to avoid every shadowy niche like a petrified little girl. Ryan, Chanel’s fiancé, can’t come—he’s a men’s health doctor at the Holmfast clinic—but she, Mia, and Shea promised to go. I’ll be fine.”
“Great. Now I have four women to look after.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Bull. If I call Mason and tell him I’ll be there, he’ll ask me to keep an eye on Mia. I guarantee it.”
“And I guarantee Mia will bite her fiancé’s head off if he does that.” She jabbed her spoon in the bowl. “Too bad Mason can’t be there. I wonder who would come out the shortest if you guys measured the size of your arrogant dicks.”
“Him. No contest.” Benji thrummed his fingers on the scratched tabletop. “I’m not at liberty to say—unless you already know—but do you know why Mason can’t go to the bar?”
“His parole restrictions, yadda yadda.” She rolled her eyes. “He’ll violate parole if he visits Aurora or patrons any business that sells alcohol as its main product. I’m sure Mia would drag him with her if she could. Hell, he’d probably go without a fuss.”
“Do you perform at any venues where your life isn’t in danger?”
She pursed her lips. “Sometimes I play at birthday parties and weddings. I sang at a funeral. When the venues allow it, I sell CDs and other stuff. My friends usually run the merchandise table for me when I’m onstage.”
“I’d love a CD.” He shifted sideways and pulled his wallet from his jeans. “How much? Give me one the next time you have any on you.”
“Five bucks, but you don’t have to pay for it.”
He handed her a five-dollar bill. “Nope. I’m glad to support your dream.”
Wow. How sweet. Her throat tightened as she pocketed the cash. Once the waiter refilled their drinks and left, she dipped her sandwich in the soup and nibbled on the soggy crust.
“You like working at the insurance company?”
She snorted. “I used to work in the sales department, but I switched to complaints for better money. Big mistake. My boss, Cheryl, promises to switch me back to sales whenever an opening pops up.” She wiped her hands on her napkin. “Why do you hire ex-cons to work in your garage? Mason’s a good guy, but are you sure it’s smart to hire men with a checkered past?”
“Color me surprised. You remember that?”
Back when they’d first met, he told her about his penchant for helping ex-cons find work.
She licked her lips. “Every second of that night is branded into my memory.”
“Same with me.” He flashed her a grin before sobering and pouring more sauce on his food. “Smart? Maybe not. I have four ex-cons working for me right now. Mase and the new guy I hired a few weeks ago are the only ones still on parole. My dad, Ben Sr., always believed a man deserved a second chance. Sometimes a third. Just because you screw up doesn’t mean you’re worthless.”
“I agree.”
“Halfway houses and outreach centers across the city often sent him parolees who could fix engines. He hired them if he believed they truly wanted to get their lives back on track.”
“I bet that wasn’t easy. Lots of people don’t believe in giving someone a helping hand.”
Benji huffed. “You got that right. Parole officers sometimes barged in to fuss at the men for real or imaginary offenses, and they always looked at me with pity or like I was trash. It’s a helluva thing for a kid to witness.” He forked a bite of potatoes. “Cops even staked out the building, which scared off customers. Despite Dad’s complaints, the police chief nor the city council cared. He lost a lot of business until he invested time and money into advertising and offering deals and discounts. After a while, he built a loyal clientele.”
She shook her head. “Damn. Is it still so bad nowadays?”
“Nah. Police and parole officers come in occasionally, but the harassment is nothing like it was. Probably because my staff isn’t ex-con only. It pisses me off, though, when they question and accuse my guys of wrongdoing without a scrap of evidence.”
“Your dad sounds like a good man. I wish I could’ve met him.”
He grinned. “Dad would’ve adored you. He liked feisty brunettes who could joke and talk shit like the guys. Like my mom. My memories of her are fuzzy, but Dad loved telling stories about how she played cards with his buddies and made the best nachos ever. She faced life head-on and took nothing for granted.”
“I’m sorry, Benji.”
“About what?”
“You’ve lost so much. How do you go through the day with a smile on your face?”
He twisted his lips. “I’m used to it, but I have Alan and Danny. Al’s mom is a sweetheart, and she treats me like a son. I go to either her place or Alan’s for the holidays.”
You have me. She bit back the words.
“We should move in together.” Benji lifted his hand as she opened her mouth to argue. “We don’t have to marry, but the baby should live with us both. I don’t want visitation rights, to only see my child on the weekends. I’ll file for joint custody if I have to, Belle.”
“You’d try to steal—”
“No, I would never take the baby from you. You’re the mother, but I want equal rights.”
“Moving in together is an option, but until that day happens—if it does—we should both find room in our homes for a nursery.” She scraped her spoon across the side of the bowl and pried off a green bean.
“I mean no offense, but my neighborhood is safer than yours. I drove by two drug deals before I stopped by your place last Sunday.”
She winced. “Point taken.”
“The school system is better too. Why don’t you move in for a few weeks? You can sleep in the guest room if staying in my bed makes you uncomfortable.”
She scoffed. Like that would work. Her libido would jump into overdrive as it did a few nights earlier when he bunked on the futon. “What about your sister? She’ll make life hell for us if you kick her to the sofa.”
“Shit. I forgot about her.”
“How’s it going with Meghan? You guys getting along?” She tore her napkin into strips. Thank God for the subject change.
“Not well. I laid down some ground rules, and she’s willing to comply with most of them. She won’t look for a job or attend NA meetings, though. At least she’s clean. I can’t force too many demands. She has to take baby steps to kick the addiction.”
“I hope it works out.” She truly did.
“You don’t like her, do you?”
“I don’t know her, so I can’t say.” She fidgeted under his unblinking stare. “Oh, okay. She acted like a bitch when you showered upstairs and turned on the waterworks after you came down. I don’t trust her.”
“Meghan’s a master manipulator. I’ll watch my back.” Benji stabbed the fork into a chunk of steak and slid the prongs between his teeth. “I don’t want you to avoid my place because she’s there. Maybe you could have dinner with us?”
She cringed and ducked her head. “Sure.”
“Love your enthusiasm.”
She jolted her gaze back to his. The twinkle in his eyes soothed her nerves. She’d prefer an enema than to get chummy with Meghan, but for Benji, she’d give her a chance.
As his father had believed, all men—women, too—deserved a second chance.
After they finished eating, Benji drove her back to the health clinic and parked beside her car.
With the dropping temperature and rising wind chill, she tightened her coat around her chest and hopped from the truck. Ooh, too damn cold. She bounced on her feet and lifted her face to the bluish-purple sky. Gorgeous. Few cars filled the lot, but the rumbling vehicles on the road resounded in a cacophony of white noise.
Benji clasped her waist and pinned her to the side of the cab. “What time on Saturday?”
“My set starts at nine, so try to be there by eight-thirty at the latest.”
“I’ll be there, but why don’t we have a sleepover at your place tonight?” He rolled his hips, grinding his erection against her stomach. “I’ll follow you home for dessert.”
“Tempting, but no. I need time to myself.”
He pouted, puckering his bottom lip. Then he nodded. “All right, but are we good?”
“I think so.” She hoped so, anyway, but that depended on Saturday. Better she put up her wall now in case everything blew up in her face. She tugged on the lapels of his duffel coat, bringing him down to her level, and kissed him. “If everything goes well at the bar, you can have me then. I’ll make the wait worth it.”