Author: Jill Shalvis

She was turned away from him, staring out into the gray morning so that he couldn’t see her face. He didn’t have to; he could sense the eye roll. “The pier,” she finally said. “And this time, no questions.”

Aubrey’s nerves were high and getting higher. She didn’t wait for Ben to turn off the engine at the next stop. The moment he pulled into the pier parking lot, she slid out of the truck and then paused, glancing back at him. “You’re waiting here, right?”

“Right.”

She didn’t trust him. “Promise?”

“What are you so worried I’m going to see?” he asked in that lazy, calm voice that made her want to crawl into his lap and cajole him into taking her to the same place he’d taken her last night in her bathroom.

But that wasn’t going to happen. That had been a one-time thing.

The best one-time thing ever…

Shaking that off, she looked at him. It hadn’t escaped her notice that he hadn’t promised. He was in dark reflective glasses, so she couldn’t see his eyes. His hair was finger-combed at best, and he had sawdust on his jeans from working at her bookstore. “I mean it, Ben,” she said. “This is my business.”

“Whatever you say, Sunshine.” He pulled out his phone, presumably accessing whatever shoot ’em up, kill ’em game he was playing with Jack.

It was as close to a promise as she was going to get, and she knew it. She blew out a breath and then caught sight of his screen. Not a shoot ’em up, kill ’em game at all. “Words with Friends?” she asked. “That’s the killer game you play?”

“It can be killer,” he said lightly, his manhood apparently not threatened in the slightest. “Hey, do you know a seven-letter word that’s got the letter X in it? I’ve got a triple-word opportunity here.”

“Extinct,” she said, “which is what I’m going to make you if you follow me.” She shut the truck door on that ridiculous threat and walked off.

The Ferris wheel was lit up but not turning. It was icy cold outside, but she ignored the wind as she walked past the diner and then the arcade. Between the arcade and Ferris wheel were two kiosks. One sold ice cream, another sold locally made items.

Both were closed now. The ice cream shop was actually boarded up. The two brothers who ran the place didn’t work during the winter months. One of them, Lance, suffered from cystic fibrosis, so they usually—providing Lance’s health allowed it—took off somewhere south for warmer weather.

The other kiosk wasn’t closed for the season. In fact, the woman who ran it was there right now, getting ready to open up for the day. She was busy flipping through a stack of receipts and not paying any attention to the pier around her until Aubrey stopped right in front of her.

Her name was Cathy, and she sold beautiful handmade scarves, hats, and throws she and a few other local women created.

Looking up with a friendly smile, Cathy said, “I’m still closed, but if you see something you like, I could probably be talked into a quick deal.”

Aubrey reached out and ran her fingers over a knitted infinity scarf the color of a rich ruby. Soft as heaven. “It’s beautiful. They’re all beautiful,” she said.

“That one would look good on you, with that coat and your golden hair.”

Aubrey pulled it off the rack and draped it around her neck. She peered into one of the mirrors hanging on the side of the kiosk.

“Pretty,” Cathy said.

Aubrey looked at her reflection and met Cathy’s eyes in the mirror behind her. “You don’t remember me.”

“Oh, I remember you,” Cathy said. “We were in PE together. And cooking class.”

Aubrey let out a breath. “I came here to see you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve never been able to forget how I teased you for being so skinny,” Aubrey said quietly. “It was rude, and so wrong.” It’d haunted her all these years.

“Well, I was skinny,” Cathy said, and adjusted Aubrey’s hair so it fell better over the scarf in the back. “And I’ve always thought you did it because you were jealous.”

“Definitely jealous,” Aubrey said. “I had to run off my nightly junk food every single morning and I was still curvy. I was unbearably jealous of how you looked, but it’s no excuse.”

Cathy once again met her gaze in the mirror. “I was anorexic. Did you know that?”

“No.” God. Aubrey closed her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Cathy.”

“I was anorexic,” Cathy said again. “And no one noticed that I was starving myself. Except you.”

Aubrey opened her eyes and once again met Cathy’s.

“You got me to eat one of the cheeseburgers we made for cooking class—do you remember?” Cathy asked. “It was our midterm, and we were required to eat what we cooked. I tried to throw mine away, but you told on me and then I had to eat the burger in front of the whole class.”

Aubrey winced at the memory. “Yeah, I remember. I—”

“No, listen to me.” Cathy’s voice shook a little now. “I hadn’t eaten in a week, Aubrey. That burger was the best thing I’d ever tasted. It helped me to start eating again.”

Aubrey let out a breath. “I’m glad. So glad. But I shouldn’t have done any of that to you. Not that I’m trying to excuse myself, but I was trying to lose weight. I needed to fit into a stupid pageant gown for an upcoming beauty contest, and I couldn’t. I was starving myself, too, and so hungry and angry all the time—but I wasn’t anorexic. I was just a bitch.”

Cathy smiled. “Yeah. You were that.” She cocked her head and studied Aubrey’s reflection. “I was going to overcharge you for this scarf, you know. Because I’m a bitch, too.” She smiled. “But you know? We didn’t turn out so bad after all.”

Ben was leaning against his truck, sipping the coffee he’d purchased from the diner with one hand and beating Jack’s ass in Words with Friends with his other hand when Aubrey stepped off the pier and headed his way.

It’d only been about fifteen minutes, but she looked like she’d lost a little bit of the chip on her shoulder. He didn’t say a word as he opened the door for her.

“Pretty scarf,” he said, and watched her hand fly to the material now wrapped around her neck.

But she said nothing.

“How’d it go?” he asked.

More nothing.

“Do you have any gum?” he asked.

“Yes.” She opened her purse, and he reached in and smoothly grabbed her notebook.

“Hey,” she said.

He flipped it open. “We crossing anyone off yet?”

She snatched it back and hugged it to herself.

Reaching past her into the glove compartment, he pulled out a pen and handed it to her.

She glared at him for a beat and then snatched the pen. She opened her pad and very carefully crossed off number four.

Cathy.

He smiled at her. “Where to now?”

She reached for his coffee, but he got to it first, lifting it out of her reach. “You could do me next. Seeing as I’m sitting right here.”

“I could do you? You think I’m going to do you right here in your truck?”

He had to work hard to keep from laughing. “I meant the list. I’m on your list.”

“Oh.” She narrowed her gaze at him, her cheeks flushed. “I’ve told you, you’re not the Ben on my list.”

“Prove it,” he said.

“What?”

“If I’m not the Ben on your list, then who is?”

She just looked at him for a long moment. “You have a shovel?” she finally asked.

“In the back. Why?”

“Can you go back to the store?”

“Sure. On the drive there, you can tell me what your definition of ‘do me’ is.”

She blushed some more and ignored him. At the store, she was gone for less than five minutes, and then she climbed back into the truck a little breathlessly. “Head out on Route Ten,” she said.

“You should feel free to show me this bossy side of you in bed anytime.”

She sent him a baleful glance as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed to Route 10. The highway turned inland—not up into the mountains, but east, to the far end of the county. The houses out here were few and far between. There were a few ranches, but mostly these places were older and run-down.

“Turn right,” Aubrey said, looking down at her map app.

Ben followed her directions onto a dirt road, and then onto a dirty driveway. The mobile home there was a double-wide. Sitting on the porch was an old guy in a rocking chair.

Ben stopped the truck. “Is that…Mr. Wilford?”

“Ben Wilford,” Aubrey said smugly.

“The mean old science teacher?”

“He’s retired now, but yes. And mean is an understatement,” she muttered under her breath.

“This is the Ben on your list?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yes, Mr. Egomaniac, this is the Ben on my list. Stay here,” she said, and started to slide out of the truck.

He caught her arm. At the touch, she went still as if prodded with an electrical current.

He knew exactly, because he felt it as well. And it told him something, something he hadn’t been prepared for. They weren’t done with each other.

Not by a long shot.

This wasn’t good news. Neither was the fact that he was playing with her. He’d tricked her into needing a ride from him and he’d justified it because he wanted to know what she was up to.

But the joke was on him, because he realized the truth—he just wanted to be with her.

That wasn’t good news, either.

“What?” she asked.

More than a little unhappy with his epiphany, he shook his head. “Nothing.” And then he let go of her, gesturing for her to have at it. Whatever “it” was.

She slid out of the truck and headed to the back to pull out his shovel. Then, carrying the shovel, she walked up to the double-wide in her fancy dress and coat, as though she belonged there.

Mr. Wilford stood, eyes narrowed and nearly hidden behind his white, bushy brows. Ben rolled down his window, but he still couldn’t catch any words. He didn’t have any trouble at all catching Mr. Wilford’s bad attitude, though. Ben braced to get out of the truck, but the old man got up, limped to his front door, and vanished inside—but not before slamming the door, practically on Aubrey’s nose.

Damn it, that pissed Ben off. But Aubrey merely squared her shoulders and vanished around the back of the trailer.

Ben waited a minute and then followed. He couldn’t help it if he wanted to make sure she was okay. And that Mr. Wilford didn’t shoot her for trespassing. He risked Aubrey clobbering him over the head with the shovel for not staying in the truck, but he’d deal with that when he got closer. He wasn’t actually too worried, but he’d discovered something about his odd relationship with Aubrey. He preferred kissing her to arguing with her.

Not that he was exactly comfortable with that…

Chapter 14

Twenty-five minutes later, Aubrey slid back into Ben’s truck. The ground had been frozen and was almost impossible to break apart, forcing her to work her ass off. As a result, she was hot and sweaty, but she felt good about the morning’s progress. Very good. Lowering the truck’s sun visor, she studied her reflection in the small mirror there. Not too bad. She swiped at her slightly smudged mascara. Then she pulled out her notebook and, with great ceremony for the man seated next to her, she crossed off BEN. “There,” she said to Ben. “All taken care of.”

“Uh-huh,” he said.