Truly(30)

May looked at her shoes, the smile still lingering. “If New York wants to woo me, it shouldn’t be such a dick.”

Ben laughed. He took the soup bowl from her and set it down, then folded her hands between his. Her fingers were freezing. “New York has a proposal.”

“What’s that?”

“Stay with me. Let me show you around for a few days. I have to find an apartment anyway, so I’m just going to be rattling around the city, visiting different neighborhoods to check on my bees and looking for somewhere to live. You can take a break and make a vacation out of the rest of the long weekend. Then you can buy that plane ticket for Tuesday, and I’ll take you to the airport and see you off properly.”

“I couldn’t,” she said. “There’s no way I could impose more when—”

“And you need to stop apologizing, and stop using the word impose,” he added. “Immediately. That’s also part of the proposal.”

She pressed her lips together, and Ben stared at them.

May needed a friend, not a lover. He needed to prove to himself that he was the kind of man who could be May’s friend without making a hash of it and driving one more good thing from his life.

Maybe it was a stupid idea. Probably it was. But he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this way—like somebody else’s problems mattered so much, and like he might actually be capable of helping with them.

Christ. He wanted to keep playing the white knight.

He thought he could, too, if he had a few more days to practice. He could figure out how to make her talk. How to make her smile.

He wanted to change her mind about New York. Six years here had convinced him there was nowhere on the planet he’d rather be, and the last six months working with bees had sent him to all kinds of interesting places he’d enjoy showing off.

He knew this city, and he loved it. He could give that to May.

“You’re not allowed to say no, either,” he said, squeezing her hands.

“What am I allowed to say?”

“The only thing you’re allowed to say is yes.”

“All right,” she said. “Yes.”





CHAPTER TEN


The steering wheel jerked in Allie’s hand as the station wagon hit a washout. She yanked it to the left, aligning the tires back with the road.

“Jeez, Al,” Matt said. “You think you could slow down?”

She glanced at her fiancé. He wore a rumpled denim shirt over a green T-shirt, and his light brown hair looked like he’d finger-combed it after getting out of bed this morning and ignored it ever since. Which she was pretty sure was what he’d done.

Her own hair was a frizzy mess, floofing from beneath the baseball cap she’d pulled on when she caught her reflection by the front door of the cabin.

Not that it mattered. They were in cabin mode, and she didn’t care what she looked like. Matt didn’t care, either. He loved her unconditionally and absolutely. He had since the day May brought him home from her biology lab to their shared college apartment.

I think I’m in love, Matt had said when she came in the kitchen.

Allie had assumed he was joking.

“Sorry,” she said. “Can you check my cell again and see if there’s a signal yet?”

A mile from the general store, she knew the phone wouldn’t be working, but she kept hoping anyway. It happened, right? Rogue weather pushed satellites out of alignment, maybe? “Is there weather in space?”

“No.” Matt swept his finger over the screen of her phone. “No atmosphere.”

He said it without judgment, but privately Allie added the Duh she deserved.

“You still don’t have any bars.” He tossed her cell back on the wagon’s green vinyl upholstery. They jounced through a pothole, sending the phone skittering to the floor as Matt reached for the oh-shit bar. Their sheepdog, Roscoe, whined in the backseat.

“You wanted to come with us,” she muttered irritably. But a glance in the rearview mirror told her that poor Roscoe had curled up in a ball of misery. She eased her foot off the accelerator. Matt’s knuckles were white, and she was being ridiculous, even by her own standards.

There was no reason to expect May to be at the store, or even to hope she’d left another message. She’d said she was on her way. She would get here when she got here.

Allie managed the rest of the drive over the rutted gravel road at a more reasonable speed, and soon enough the store and gas station came into view. As she pulled into a parking spot, Matt put his hand on her knee. She cut the engine.

“Hey,” he said. “You okay?”

She unbuckled her seat belt and covered his hand with her own. “Yeah, thanks. I’m just kind of … discombobulated by this whole thing with May.”