Ben stood up, but hesitated rather than going outside to wait for her. When she skidded to a stop mere inches from the side of the barn, he bit back another lecture and counted to ten instead, waiting for his thumping heartbeat to slow down to normal before going to greet her.
She bounded out of the car with long-legged strides, then tossed a bag in his direction. One whiff and her driving no longer mattered. He’d reminded her of a particular fondness for blueberries over dinner the other night, and he knew exactly what he’d find in the bag…homemade blueberry muffins this time.
She handed him a cup of his favorite latte as well, acting for all the world as if it had been only yesterday when they’d last parted. He wasn’t sure whether to be charmed or annoyed by that.
“I can’t stay but a minute, but something amazing happened earlier this morning and I couldn’t wait to come out to tell you about it.”
“You could have called.”
“Not about this. And since I was coming, I stopped long enough to bake the muffins so I wouldn’t arrive empty-handed. I wanted to get them out here while they’re still warm from the oven.”
“And that’s why you drove like a bat out of hell?” he asked testily.
“No, I drove that way because I enjoy it,” she replied, undaunted by his disapproval.
“If you slowed down, you might enjoy the landscape.”
“I do enjoy it.”
“How? It must pass in a blur.”
She gave him an innocent smile. “All I have to do is think about that painting in your dining room and it all comes back to me.”
Ben shook his head at the sneaky way she’d brought the conversation right back to the same old point. “We’ve been over this more than once. Flattery, muffins and latte are not going to get you inside the studio, sweetheart.”
“What will?” she asked curiously. “Is there some trick I’m missing?”
“Just one. A sincere promise to forget about trying to talk me into selling what’s in there.”
She shrugged. “Sorry, no can do.”
“Since you knew that would be the outcome even before you asked that question, let’s not belabor it. Why don’t you tell me about this amazing thing that happened this morning.”
“My mother came to my gallery.”
He regarded her intently, looking for evidence of the simmering outrage that usually followed any contact with her mother. He saw none. In fact, her eyes were shining. “I take it that it went well.”
“Better than that,” she said excitedly. “I think we’re finally starting to communicate. For the first time in years, I can actually see a woman I could like, not just the mother I’m supposed to love.”
“What brought on this astonishing turnaround?”
“Believe it or not, your portrait had a lot to do with it.” She told him about their conversation, about her discovery that her mother had once painted, too. “And I never knew. Isn’t that amazing?”
“Amazing,” he agreed, enjoying the fire in her eyes and wishing somehow that he’d been the one to put it there.
“Well, that’s all I came to tell you,” she said. “Since you still won’t let me into the studio, I guess I’ll be off now. One victory is probably the best I can hope for in a single day.”
“Aren’t you getting tired of driving all this way just to have me rebuff you?” he asked curiously.
“Not really,” she said, then added with a wink, “Catching a glimpse of all that scenery is worth it.”
Ben shook his head. “I have no idea what to make of you.”
“I’m a pretty straightforward woman. When I see something I want, I go after it.”
Ben noted the accompanying gleam in her eye. It made him wonder once again if what she wanted was still his art…or him. There was one way to find out, a way he’d been avoiding for some time now, because he was terrified to go down that particular path again. Each time he had before had left him rattled and uneasy. He struggled with himself once more, told himself it would be foolish to tempt fate by taking his brother’s advice and plunging into a relationship that was bound to butt headlong into the brick wall around his heart.
But when he couldn’t stand it one second longer, he kissed her, a hard, demanding kiss that drove his senses crazy and made his heart pound.
Big mistake. No, huge mistake. If she’d been in his head all morning long, now she was in his blood. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her.
When he finally released her, she stared at him, clearly dazed.
“What? Why?” She shook her head, then asked more steadily. “What was that for?”