She let out a breath. “Too bad it’s night.”
Shaking her head her nonsensical thoughts, she gasped, hand to her heart, when she heard Ben’s voice in the living room. A startled glance at the radio clock on the nightstand told her it was indeed five o’clock. She’d been thinking so hard she missed hearing his truck pull up or his knock at the door.
She probably would have missed a sonic boom.
Now she only had to face Ben, not having a clue what he might think of her after she’d practically attacked him in wild abandon the night before.
“Agh.” She pressed her hands to her hot cheeks and willed herself to cool down. With a final grimace at her reflection, she slipped the strap of her purse on her shoulder, picked up the bag, and walked casually out to greet Ben.
“Hey.” Ben’s eyes twinkled with pleasure when she stepped in the room. She loved the way his smile started in his eyes, his mouth curving into a slow, soft and—whew! Was it hot in here?
Because that look in his eyes, his smile, wasn’t his already devastatingly charming smile. No, this one contained an almost lupine quality to it, like a predator, intent on stalking and plundering its prey until it was beyond sated.
Suddenly she was nervous as hell. Then he blinked and it was gone.
“Hey, yourself,” she said, trying to quell the fluttering of her heart. Tearing her gaze away, she looked expectantly at Rome, waiting for his fatherly admonishment to return at a specific time.
Only he didn’t. Seated at the couch, his laptop on the coffee table in front of him, he gave distracted wave. “Have a good time.”
“Ready?” Confused, she looked stupidly at Ben. “Uh. Yeah.”
“Great, because I’m starving. You do like Italian food, right?”
Willow mumbled something, letting Ben help her on with her coat, and they left.
As if sensing her unease, Ben was light and easy on the way to the restaurant, telling her funny stories about the people at the ski lodge. It worked. By the time they reached Vince’s restaurant she no longer felt like a lamb being led to the slaughter.
Still giggling over his account about two boys flirting with two girls and the resulting ski lift mishap, she allowed him to help her from his truck. Hand in hand, they walked to the front door, only to be stopped by an exiting customer, one whose polite smile brightened when he saw Ben.
“Ben, my man!”
“Hey, Derek.”
Derek placed a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Thanks again for helping out with the bath remodel. My wife loves it and now I’m the recipient of all her gratitude, if you know what I mean.” He winked at Willow and left.
Ben caught Willow’s waiting expression. “Ah. Derek Benson. Helped him with a bathroom remodel for the wife.”
“So I heard. And it sounds as if he’s more pleased than his wife.”
Interestingly enough, Ben blushed, and Willow pressed her lips together to hold in a laugh. “Yeah. Well. There you go.” Clearing his throat, he tugged her inside.
Once seated, they had no problem keeping the conversation flowing. Twice his phone rang, and he ignored both calls.
They were, however, interrupted several times throughout dinner by people who came to the table to greet Ben, a few copying Derek and giving their thanks for some deed Ben had done for them; most just said hi.
At the moment, one particular man was talking about night skiing and while Ben appeared nonplussed, Willow, who found a new and delightful pastime studying his features, noticed his smile wasn’t anywhere close to his eyes, and he seemed uncharacteristically tense.
Smiling to herself, she reached into her purse. Ben might have ignored the earlier phone calls, but maybe he wouldn’t ignore this one. Angling her body, she surreptitiously ran a fingertip over the touchscreen. Luckily her hand was over her mouth when Ben’s phone rang, because she nearly snorted when Music Box Dancer began playing.
Ben froze for a fraction of an instant before a spark of laughter lit his eyes. “You’ll have to excuse me, Todd. I need to get this, then Willow and I need to go or we’ll be late.”
“Oh, oh, sure. You bet.”
After Clueless Todd left, Willow smirked at Ben. “Music Box Dancer?”
His shoulders lifted in a shrug, drawing her gaze to the way the brown henley stretched over his muscles. “Thought it fit.”
“Hmmm.”
He leaned over the table. “I’m sorry about this, Will. I never thought we’d be mobbed.”
Willow mused that over as they left and headed to the school. Ben was obviously well liked in the town. He did things for people with no expectations. She thought of Rose, and the schoolkids to whom he was going to teach ice skating. How he was part of the search-and-rescue team, and the reluctant admission that he was a tracker.