She was enjoying his company. Probably more than she should. It was a risky game she’d been letting herself play tonight, imagining that she and Ben had something starting. They didn’t, of course, because Carli knew that even though she found Ben intriguing and thoughtful and sincere, the timing was wrong. There was a big difference between being divorced and getting divorced, and Ben had yet to cross that threshold. Carli wasn’t even certain if she’d crossed it. One of them had to be sensible, and she knew that right now what both of them needed most was a friend, not a romance.
But maybe more than that, more than any of the other reasons, Carli was afraid that even if he said he was interested in her, it really wouldn’t be about her so much as it would be just another lonely guy trying to fill an empty space. Someone to comfort a wounded ego, or to handle the minutiae of his life so he could focus on bigger, better things. She didn’t want that. She was working hard enough taking care of Mia and Tess and Gus. She just didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to take on more. Her hands were full. So as much as she might like to take those hands and squeeze Ben’s ass with them . . . it just wasn’t going to happen.
“No, I’m good out here for a while longer,” Ben said, tucking the corner of her blanket in around her feet as she sat back down. She’d grabbed the throw an hour ago as the temperature dipped. “How long do you suppose it’ll be before those kids come flying back in from the woods screaming their fool heads off, anyway?” Ben asked with a chuckle.
“I’m guessing about fifteen minutes, which is about fourteen more minutes than I could take.”
“Not a fan of ghosts, I take it?”
“I’m happy to say I’ve never met one, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
His laughter was soft, and they sat for a moment in companionable silence as faint voices of the kids tromping into the woods wafted through the air along with the sweet, earthy smell of autumn foliage and fallen leaves.
“What else did you do for Ethan’s birthday?” Carli asked after another moment had passed. “I didn’t see him around earlier today.”
“He and I are officially celebrating tomorrow, because he was with his mom last night and this morning. He showed up at my place right before his party started, and he was spitting mad.”
“About what?”
“Apparently, he told his mother that now he’s eighteen, he wants to live with me full-time, and she took it about as well as you might expect. But in his defense, her boyfriend is around all the time, and Ethan’s pissed. I’ve asked him to give me some time to work on all this, but eighteen-year-old boys are not the most patient creatures.”
Carli smiled wistfully into the darkness. “Neither are girls at that age. For what it’s worth, I can totally relate. Steve has a shiny new girlfriend, and I’m not sure what my kids think of her. They don’t say much, but I think that’s because they worry it’ll upset me.”
“Does it?” he asked. His voice was soft, as if he was hesitant to ask the question.
Carli paused with her answer. “Yes, but not because I’m jealous or want him back. It’s just kind of . . . weird, and it puts the kids in an awkward place.”
He nodded slowly. “Yep. I get that. I guess at least your ex was out of the house before he started dating. Sophia started her next relationship before I even knew ours was over.”
“That’s very rude.”
Ben chuckled and then sighed. “Right?”
“Maybe you need to give that Veronica De-what’s-her-name another shot.” She wasn’t sure why she’d said that. She didn’t want to think about him spending time with some other woman, but maybe she’d secretly wanted to see his reaction.
He shook his head more vigorously and took a sip from his bottle of beer. “No, thanks. She had her chance.”
That was a relief. “Too bad for her. I guess timing is everything.”
Another silence descended, this one less comfortable than the last because of things that weren’t being said. In moments they were back to discussing innocuous things, like home improvement and funny stories from their own teen years. And when Mia came back from the woods half an hour later and climbed the steps to the deck, Carli realized it was time to call it a night.
“Not interested in Ouija boarding?” Carli asked.
“I save all my important questions for the Magic Eight Ball,” Mia answered. “And you didn’t hear it from me, but hypothetically, if some of the kids out there were drinking, would you want to know about it?”
Ben sighed. “Yep. I would. I guess Ethan’s party is over.”
“Tess isn’t drinking, is she?” Carli asked.
Mia shrugged. “It’s pretty dark out there. Very hard to see. And anyway, it was a hypothetical question, remember?”
Ben and Carli exchanged a look, the one that said parenting is hard, and then he stood up.
“Hypothetically, in that case, I think I’ll go see what the kids are up to in the woods,” he said.
“Will you tell Tess she has to come home?” Carli asked.
“Of course, and I’m sorry about this,” he said. “Ethan should know better.”
“For what it’s worth,” Mia added, “Ethan’s not the one who brought the bottle.”
“I guess I’m glad to hear that, but did you see him drink from it?”
“Did I mention it was super dark?”
Ben chuckled. “Yes, you did. Thanks, Mia.”
“Sure. Good night, Mr. Chase. Night, Mom.”
Mia went inside, closing the door firmly behind her, and Carli stood up, next to Ben. This was an abrupt ending to the evening, but maybe it was a good thing. Not the teen-drinking part, but the part where they each went into their respective homes before she said something she shouldn’t. Like how she liked the way his hair touched his collar or the way his smile made her happy.
“Well, I hope you enjoyed your first Monroe Circle Hayride,” she said.
“I did. Thanks for hanging out with me tonight and helping me do a piss-poor job of chaperoning my kid’s birthday party.”
They were standing close and saying goodbye, so the hug came as naturally as a leaf falling from a tree, easy and gentle. His arms around her were solid and warm, and it took all her willpower not to lean in closer and make it last longer. It was over almost as soon as it started, but Carli’s torso tingled long after he was gone.
Yes, Ben Chase would be so easy to fall for and care for, and then she’d lose herself again. Just when she was starting to embrace her independence. She just couldn’t go down that road again. Even if that road led to a handsome man with a warm laugh and sapphire-blue eyes.
Chapter 23
The 5:30 a.m. alarm was never a welcome sound, but after a few weeks of live broadcasts and several on-location segments, Carli was finally starting to feel as if this was her life. She’d get up, reluctantly, and drag Gus from the bed, because even he thought that was way too early to start the day. They’d take a quick walk so he could handle his morning business, and then her lazy-ass dog would get back into bed while she showered and got ready to go into the station. On the days her daughters were home and not at Steve’s, she’d leave them notes reminding them to take their lunch or to remember they had an appointment after school. Or sometimes she’d just leave notes with smiley faces and an I love you. Maybe they thought the notes were silly, or that she was too nostalgic, but she didn’t care. Someday, hopefully, they’d have kids of their own, and then they’d understand.
This morning, Gus was particularly uninterested in getting up, and she couldn’t blame him. It was the middle of November and still dark outside, and chilly, too. She pulled her coat on over her robe and pajamas and hooked the leash to his collar before heading out the front door. He was completely trained to stay within the boundaries of the electric fence now, but she’d learned that if she took him out of the yard on his leash, he was apt to get to business pretty quickly. Sometimes she didn’t have to walk him any farther than the edge of the yard before he
was ready to go back in.
Today, his head lifted as they paused on the front porch, and he sniffed at the air before easing down the two steps and meandering over into the grass toward Ben’s house. She gazed around, noting only a smattering of lights on at neighbors’ houses. Ben’s place was dark, but a lamppost near his mailbox shed light on his driveway, and Carli suddenly felt a squishy sort of thwack in her chest, like a paintball hitting, as she noticed a cheerful yellow Volkswagen Beetle parked there. It wasn’t Ethan’s. He drove a small black car, like a Camry or an old Impala or something like that. A teenage-boy kind of car with rust and more than a few dents. Ben’s car was a black Lexus, and she couldn’t in any way, shape, or form imagine him driving this girly little vehicle.
Which left only a handful of options. It was an early birthday gift for Addie, who wouldn’t turn sixteen for another year and a half. That was a highly unlikely scenario. Perhaps it belonged to Ben’s sister, Kenzie, although Kenzie had been over a few times since Ben had moved in, and never once had Carli spotted such a car. Or, this option she liked least of all, Ben had an overnight visitor. Maybe Veronica DeMarco had sobered up and come to her senses and was back for another date. Or maybe this was another friend of the family or woman from his past. Or maybe it was someone completely new, and Carli didn’t like that idea at all.
Sure, it was technically none of her business. There wasn’t any romantic understanding between them. Since the night of the hayride, they’d chatted a handful of times, usually when she was outside with the dog or while they’d both handed out the candy to the trick-or-treaters. Then they’d watched from her front porch, drinking coffee, as Tess and Ethan took down all the Halloween decorations as a punishment for drinking out in the woods. Carli had taken Ben a plastic container full of chili because she’d made too much, and he’d coordinated a time for the tree guy to come over and remove that branch that scraped her roof. It was casual. And friendly. And neighborly. Because they were casual. And friends. And neighbors.
The problem was that Ben was also funny and thoughtful and kind. And terribly sexy. Because he was funny and thoughtful and kind. And terribly handsome. On a whim, Carli had gone online last week and looked for photos of him. You know, just for fun and to satisfy her curiosity. Being a Chase meant being in the Glenville public eye, and she discovered no shortage of pictures. There were some of him alone or with his siblings or his parents. He came from a long line of organically attractive people, and Ben Chase was there to represent. There were shots of him standing with his family on the front porch of the governor’s mansion up on Wenniway Island and cutting a ribbon in front of the Wallace-Chase Arena. There were pictures of various galas and events around town as the Chase clan rubbed elbows with the area’s movers and shakers. And, of course, there were also pictures of Ben’s soon-to-be ex-wife. She was no slouch, either. A statuesque blonde with sharp cheekbones and a model’s pout. Basically the average woman’s worst nightmare, and the opposite of Carli in virtually every way.
And because she was already cyberstalking, Carli had unblocked Steve’s Facebook page just long enough to see a dozen posts about him and the new girlfriend. They’d gone to a wine tasting and a concert, and there was even a picture of them carving pumpkins. With Mia and Tess. That one was tough to take. Although Carli had sufficiently recovered from seeing her ex with another woman, seeing that same woman with her arm around Mia’s shoulders and everyone smiling for the camera was a gut punch she hadn’t expected. The kids hadn’t mentioned anything about this. And she guessed they weren’t obligated to. It’s not as if they were smoking a joint together or doing anything remotely out of the ordinary. It was just the cozy familyness of it that got under her skin. DeeDee had assured Carli her feelings were typical and understandable, and that she’d get used to this kind of thing, but that hadn’t stopped Carli from eating an entire pint of Ben & Jerry’s. And reblocking Steve’s page with a vow to never look again. But somehow, seeing a cheerful, girly car in Ben’s driveway bothered her more than seeing a photo of Steve and Jade at a University of Michigan football game.
Gus woofed at the air, and the wind rustled the leaves that remained on the trees. Carli paused for another moment, staring at the car. She thought about traipsing into Ben’s yard to get a better look inside it, because surely other people in the neighborhood would notice it, and then they’d ask her all sorts of questions. Ben should realize by now that there was a fast and proficient grapevine around here, keeping tabs on his every move. But it was cold, and she was in her coat and robe, and Gus had already taken care of his own business, so she had no excuse for loitering around outside at that time of the morning. The last thing she wanted was to be caught snooping. Lynette probably had her binoculars trained on Carli right this minute.
And it wasn’t any of her business anyway, she reminded herself again. Ben’s social life was his to manage. So what if they’d shared one hug? Just because it had left her tingly and breathless, it was just a friendly gesture that she had obviously read too much into. All her friends kept telling her to get back into the dating world, as if a new relationship would somehow erase the scars of the last one. She knew that wasn’t true, but maybe there was something to be said for seeking out some companionship. Ben obviously had, so what the hell was she waiting for?
Ben stared at his bedroom ceiling, feeling much as he had the first morning he’d woken up in this new house. Mind spinning. Ready to move forward with his future but not certain where to start. One thing he knew for sure, though? His future wasn’t going to have Patricia Harrison in it. And somehow, he didn’t think she’d mind.
Last night had been a disaster. Not quite as bad as having Roni DeMarco passed out on his bathroom floor, but dinner and too many drinks with his old college girlfriend Patty had gone only slightly better. He’d thought sex with someone he knew from the past would make it . . . easier? Better? More passionately satisfying? God, was he that guy now? The kind of guy who thought good sex required emotional connection? Is that what twenty years of marriage had done to him?
Patricia gave up a soft, snorty kind of snore next to him, and it was all he could do not to oh-so-accidentally elbow her in the shoulder so she’d wake up and go home. No surprise she was tired, having put a lot of energy and enthusiasm into their encounter. Maybe she was trying to make up for his lack of enthusiasm.
Damn it all to hell. What was wrong with him? He’d wanted to have sex. In fact, he’d been thinking about it a lot lately, but when push came to shove, as it were, he ended up literally just going through the motions until his body finally took over and finished what his brain had started. The five minutes of postcoital satisfaction were far too quickly replaced with postcoital regret. Well, maybe regret was too strong of a word. It was sex, after all, and even lousy sex was still . . . sex. So maybe it was just postcoital indifference, because Patty could have been anyone. There were at least seven women who’d asked him out in the past few months. He’d chosen Patty because he’d been crazy about her in college, for about four months, but now he couldn’t remember anything about her, other than the fact that she had an annoying laugh. That may have been why he’d dumped her in the first place. Or perhaps it was the way she held up her pinkie as she sipped from a cocktail straw? Or maybe he’d dumped her because he’d met Sophia.
Ah. Yes. Sophia. She’d crept into his brain last night, somewhere after the fourth glass of wine and right before Patty started pulling off his shirt. Maybe that wasn’t such a strange thing, given the circumstances, but it sure as hell was annoying. And worse even than that? Not only was Sophia messing with his head, but Doug had been in there, too. Picturing your wife with her new lover was not the best way to maintain an erection. And Patty must have noticed, because she’d slapped his ass right about then and said, “Giddyup, cowboy.”
That hadn’t helped, either. The only thing that had—the crazy brain game that nudged his body over the edge—was the image of Carli in that damn pink T-shirt from the Mo
nroe Circle barbecue. And the memory of hugging her that night after the hayride. She’d felt so good in his arms, comfortable and right, yet leaving him completely off-kilter. But thinking about her set into motion a whole other host of issues for him to stress about. Thoughts he was trying to suppress.
He’d helped her take down the big Halloween spider after Ethan and Tess had nearly destroyed it with their clumsy attempts, and Ben had once again found himself with his face mere inches from her ass while she climbed a ladder. Such a temptation. And days later, he couldn’t help but notice how nice her hair smelled when she’d leaned over to look at his computer screen while helping him pick out some lamps online. She’d brought him chili, and he’d eaten it. In some countries, that was considered a marriage proposal, wasn’t it? The woman was a walking trigger for him, and he needed to tamp that shit down. It’s the only reason he’d returned Patricia Harrison’s phone call in the first place. So she could distract him from Carli. Only she hadn’t. But that wasn’t her fault. It was his. And Sophia’s. And Doug’s. And Carli’s. Mostly Carli’s.
As Ben stared listlessly up at the ceiling of his bedroom, he wondered how many people he could have ambling around in his brain before he was certifiably certifiable. It was getting pretty crowded in there, and clearly no one was in charge. All he knew for certain was that Carli Lancaster wasn’t just living next door. She’d all but taken up residence in his mind, and he needed to evict her somehow.
Chapter 24
Troy Buckman in a fluffy white robe was something Carli had never, in the breadth of her imagination, anticipated seeing, and yet there he was, sitting across from her in the tastefully decorated private waiting room of the Divine Goddess salon. Thanks to Katrina’s machinations, they were taping various segments of spa treatments and beauty procedures. Allie had somehow escaped this adventure, and Carli had gotten Jessica’s sworn promise that she’d have final veto power over any video footage before she’d agreed to try this—while Troy was fully on board with whatever the lovely technicians wanted to do to him. Carli suspected he thought this place was more like a happy-ending kind of spa. Boy, was he in for a rude awakening when he found out that a Manzilian Sugaring was not at all what he was expecting.
The New Normal Page 19
