Born to be My Baby

by Lori Ryan

  Ben lightly tapped on the door. “Maggie?”

  She sank lower, covering her body beneath the suds. “Uh, yes?”

  The door opened and she slipped down to her chin, almost laughing at herself. The dude has seen you naked. In fact, he’s been closer to your hooter than your OB/Gyn. She laughed to herself. It was true.

  Ben ducked inside the bathroom, two full glasses of wine in each hand as he closed the door with his foot. “Man, it’s like a sauna in here.”

  Maggie laughed. The hot water had steamed up the room but she liked her baths hot.

  “I’m boiling the pasta for the lasagna. You’ve got a little while to soak.” He sat on the edge of the bath and handed her a glass.

  Maggie reached for it but Ben held it just beyond her reach, making her sit up more. “Ben,” she scolded.

  He smirked and handed the glass to her. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  “And here I thought you were one of the good ones.”

  His grin was slow and sultry, with a promise behind it she hoped like hell he would keep. “Never said that, Maggie Mae.”

  Maggie stared at his mouth, wishing it was on hers, or anywhere on her.

  He slipped from the edge and sat on the floor next to the tub, his face just a few feet away from hers. He reached his hand out and tucked a loose curl behind her ear.

  She couldn’t help herself. She leaned into his touch and he laughed when she sighed.

  “You sound like a cat purring.”

  Maggie sat up and grinned.

  “Oh, I meant to show you.” Ben sat his glass of wine on the floor and reached in his back pocket, pulling out his phone. “Check this out.” He held up the screen so she could see.

  “Is it a game?”

  “Yeah, it’s called Bee Mine.

  “Did you make it?” Maggie sat up, carefully checking that her chest wasn’t exposed.

  “Yeah.”

  “Is it a Spelling Bee?”

  “Yeah, see the bee,” he pointed to the animated bumblebee flying around the screen.

  Maggie nodded, resting her arms on the side of the tub.

  “The game says a word then you have to move the bee around until you spell it correctly. If you get it right, you fill up the honeycomb.”

  “What happens then?”

  “You move to the next level.” Ben held out the phone to her ear. “Listen.”

  A computer voice spoke. “The word is caterpillar.”

  Maggie gasped. “That’s my word. The one I missed and Tim Flaven got right in fourth grade.”

  Ben chuckled. “Yep, that’s the one.”

  “Ben.” She slapped his chest.

  Water splashed over the edge of the tub.

  “Hey.” He laughed, raising the phone up and out of harm’s way.

  “You made that?” Maggie nodded to the phone. “The game, I mean.”

  Ben didn’t answer.

  She gazed up and saw his eyes were glued to her exposed chest. Maggie sank back into the water. Crap. “Ben?”

  He shook his head, his eyes finally meeting hers again.

  “How long did that take you to make the app?” Maggie asked, changing the subject.

  “Not long.” He shrugged as if making an app was easy. To him, it probably was.

  “Is that what your company does?”

  “Some guys do, but not games. We program mobile apps to help companies integrate their software on the go, kind of like what I’m working on for the lodge.”

  “What do you mean?” She slipped her chin into her arms as she leaned on the tub and stared at this incredibly talented, incredibly sexy man. She didn’t know if it was the company, the hot water, or the wine, but she was definitely relaxing more and more by the minute.

  “Well, I have my team working on integrating the new system I’m developing so that the staff at the lodge can each carry a hand-held device to access information rather than have to travel to a kiosk or desktop. Like you asked for. You’re right, the lodge is huge and that wastes a lot of time.”

  “Ben,” Maggie raised up again, touching his shoulder, “that’s amazing. We looked at some systems that did that, but we’d have to pay a fortune, and we’d lose other features as a result.”

  His eyes fell to her chest.

  Oops. She lowered herself again, water splashing close to the edge.

  “It’s nothing,” he said quietly. “It’s what we do. My company I mean.”

  She studied his face. “What’s wrong?”

  Ben sat back on his heels and took a sip of wine, setting the glass back on the floor. “I forgot how much I missed programming,” he finally answered.

  “You don’t do it now?”

  He shook his head. “No, not really. My position as CEO has me locked down in meetings almost all day.”

  “What kind of meetings?”

  “Staffing, forecasting, advertising, truly boring stuff.”

  Maggie laced her fingers through his. “And we’ve added to your pile of fun by making you work at the lodge.”

  Ben gazed down at her, his hazel eyes searching hers. His luscious lips curled slightly. Her body temperature rose despite the cooling of the bath water.

  “It’s not you, Maggie.”

  “Then what is it?”

  Ben reached out and grabbed her hand, holding it up for his inspection. “You’re wrinkled.” He smiled.

  He ran his fingers over her hand, up her arm, making her want his hands to keep going.

  The timer buzzed.

  “Noodles are ready,” he said, kissing her hand before releasing it and pushing to his feet. “I’ll get the lasagna going.” He dropped her hand and turned to leave.

  “Ben,” Maggie called softly.

  He glanced over his shoulder.

  She lost her nerve to ask him more. “I’ll be out in a second.”

  “Take your time. The lasagna needs to bake for a bit anyway.”

  “Okay.” She nodded her head and without another word, Ben slipped away.

  Maggie stared at the closed door, wondering how she was going to hold on to her heart when she wanted to give it to Ben so badly.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Ben opened the fridge and pulled out the salad he’d mixed earlier, tossing the greens with his homemade dressing. He loved to cook but rarely had time for it in Seattle. His mother’s word rang through his head. Workaholic.

  Ben shook his head to rid himself of the painful truth. He was definitely becoming a workaholic, barely time for a social life, just like his father. In the beginning, he’d loved what he was doing, so it hadn’t seemed like work. As the company grew, everything had changed, but somewhere along the way, he’d lost sight of that. Lost sight of why he’d started the company in the first place.

  Here in Canyon Creek he was different. Yes, he worked hard, but he made time to be with the people he loved because, well, because he loved them. He suddenly realized, there was no one he truly loved in Seattle.

  Ben immediately thought of Maggie. God, the sight of her naked in the warm tub of water, her hair clinging to the damp skin of her neck, had his dick hard as stone. Again.

  Sure, her gorgeous body had been hidden under bubbles, but the longer he stayed and the more she moved, the more the tiny bubbles slowly disappeared, revealing more of her glorious curves.

  The more they talked, the more she’d been on display for his perusal. And peruse he had. Her tight nipples coated with bubbles had Ben seeing stars. He’d nearly had to swallow his tongue to keep from moaning.

  “Can I help with anything?”

  Ben turned at the sound of Maggie’s raspy voice. To most, she would look like nothing more than a teenager in her brother’s oversized T-shirt and shorts. But to Ben, the sight of those shapely legs encased in boy shorts that barely covered her ass…yeah, he was a goner for sure. And Christ, she wasn’t wearing a bra. Fuck.

  Ben swallowed hard, a difficult task given how dry his mouth suddenly was. How the h
ell was he supposed to eat looking across the table at that?

  Maggie’s dark auburn curls were still piled on top of her head, revealing a slender neck that begged to be devoured.

  As if sensing his thoughts, she gazed down and tugged on her shirt. “I’m sorry, it’s just late and I didn’t feel like getting dressed, dressed, you know?” She gazed up at him, apology in her green eyes. “I can go change.”

  “No,” Ben reached out and grabbed her by the wrist. “You’re fine. I’m just being a pig.”

  She smiled as if his searing gaze had delighted her.

  “Let’s eat. I’m sure you’re hungry,” he said. “It’s been a long day for you, from what my mother says.”

  Maggie stiffened in his hold and he immediately released her. He wanted to find out more about what had happened at her father’s place but he wouldn’t pry. As much as he wanted to take care of her, ease her burdens, he wouldn’t force her.

  Ben walked around the table and held out the chair. “Sit.” He smiled, hoping his words didn’t sound like a command.

  “It all looks incredible, Ben.” She unfolded the napkin and draped it in her lap. She reached for the lasagna but Ben stopped her.

  “Here, let me. The pan is still pretty warm.” Ben divided the lasagna with the spatula and cut out a healthy portion. Maggie looked like she was wasting away.

  Maggie held up her plate and Ben carefully dished out a piece of cheesy goodness.

  “Ben,” she scolded, “that’s too much.”

  “That’s what all the girls say.” He smirked.

  She laughed, the kind that said she was really feeling happy and relaxed with him. Could there be a better sound?

  “If you don’t eat it, I’ll finish it for you,” he said.

  “I’ve seen you eat,” she smirked. “I seriously don’t know where you put it all.” Her eyes traveled the length of him and he thought he saw her eyes darken with desire.

  He slid around the table and sat in his chair. If he didn’t put a little distance between them, they wouldn’t be eating dinner. Shit, what this girl did to him. “Have some salad.” He pushed the large bowl toward her, smiling like an idiot as she scooped a good serving onto her plate.

  “You seem eager for me to eat,” she said.

  “I hope you like it.” He didn’t want to bring up the fact she looked dead on her feet. Experience had taught him that chicks didn’t like their frailties pointed out. Especially this woman. Maggie wanted everyone to think she was tough as nails. And she was. Most days. But right now, the shadows under her eyes and creases of worry across her forehead proved she needed to rest.

  He wished he could get that message across to his libido. All he wanted to do was sink back into her. Tonight, if possible. Anyone with half a brain could see she was bone tired and weary though.

  Stand down, big guy. Not. Happening.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Oh, shit, had he laughed out loud?

  “Nothing.” He shook his head as he served himself. “Eat,” he motioned toward her plate.

  “Mmm,” she moaned, pulling the fork from her mouth after tasting her first bite. “This is so good.” Her words were muffled around the food and yet he still found the sounds arousing.

  This was going to be a long dinner.

  Her tongue snuck between her lips and lapped at a stray string of cheese along the corner of her mouth.

  Holy Christ on a cracker.

  “What’s wrong?” Maggie asked.

  “What?” Ben straightened in his chair.

  “It sounded like you growled, or moaned, or…”

  Ben covered the bulge in his pants with his napkin and coughed. “No, I’m good.”

  “I’m so glad Valerie taught you to cook. My mom—” Her face fell as she poked at her food.

  Ben drew in a deep breath, taming his racing heart. If the sound of his own mother’s name wasn’t enough to stop his thoughts in their tracks, the mention of her mom was. “What happened, Maggie? With your mom, I mean. And your dad?”

  “It’s a long story,” she sighed.

  “I have all night.”

  She gave a half-hearted smile as she pushed her salad around on her plate.

  “Eat.”

  She nodded.

  “You don’t have to tell me,” Ben said, poking a huge piece of lasagna and shoving it in his mouth to keep from saying more.

  “I just don’t like to talk about it. That’s all.”

  Ben sat his fork down and wiped his mouth. “Maybe you need to.”

  Her head snapped up, her brows furrowed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Maggie, I’m not trying to pry and I’m not telling you what to do.”

  Her fork clattered to her plate. “Then what are you doing, Ben?”

  Oh, hell. She’d called him by name. “Maggie.” He slid his hand across the small table, enveloping hers. “I’m not doing anything. I guess, I just want to lighten your load is all.”

  Maggie stared at him as if he had two heads but Ben noticed she didn’t pull away.

  He returned her gaze, willing her to talk, to unburden herself.

  She drew in a deep breath, pulling her hand away and picking up her fork. “Let’s eat first. I’m starving, and this is so good.”

  “Okay.” Ben could wait. Maggie needed to eat. And he needed to figure out what the fuck he was doing here, asking personal questions, worming his way into her life. This was supposed to be about sex, not a relationship. Then why did the thought of leaving Canyon Creek, and Maggie, make his chest ache.

  Yeah, he needed to figure his shit out. And fast.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Maggie dried the last of the plates and placed them in the cabinet. “You really didn’t have to do the dishes, too,” she said, turning toward Ben.

  “It’s fine,” Ben said. “I like to clean.”

  “Wow,” Maggie whistled.

  “What?”

  “He cooks and cleans. I think I’m in love.” She fanned her face.

  Ben ignored the tug in his chest at her joke and swatted her bare thigh with the dish cloth. “Shush!”

  “Ow!” She yelled, rubbing her leg. “That hurt.” She glanced down at the reddening spot.

  Ben dropped to his knees, his hand hovering over her thigh. “Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry, Maggie. Me and my brothers used to play so rough, I just didn’t think.”

  Maggie pushed his hand away. “It’s all right.”

  “Here,” Ben stood, reaching toward the freezer, “let me get some ice.”

  “Ben,” she laughed in amusement, “I’m fine. I was just teasing you.” She rubbed on the spot he’d hit. “I promise, I’ll survive.”

  Ben glanced around the room, looking for a change of subject, spotting her ancient looking television. “You want to watch a movie?”

  “Um, sure,” she said, tossing the dish cloth on the counter.

  Ben scooped it up and neatly folded it, hanging it from the handle on the oven.

  Maggie smirked and shook her head.

  It was official. Ben had always known he was the Type-A personality, but he’d never thought himself OCD. Until now.

  He walked around Maggie and into the tiny living room, searching the area for a remote. “Do you have Netflix?”

  Maggie laughed.

  “What?”

  “No,” she said.

  “Okay, HBO?”

  Maggie plopped on the couch and snorted. “Nope.” Was it a little sick that the way she popped the “p” in the word made him groan? It was her mouth. He was too damned focused on her mouth.

  “Cable?” He asked, changing the subject before he exploded.

  Maggie rolled her lips in between her teeth and shook her head.

  “You have a TV.” Ben pointed to the monstrosity sitting on what looked like an old trunk.

  “I have tapes.”

  Ben snapped his head around in disbelief and stared blankly at her. “As in VHS?”r />
  She nodded, pulling on a stray piece of hair.

  “Really? You seriously don’t have DVDs?”

  She shrugged. “That stuff’s expensive.”

  “What stuff?” Ben stared at her curiously.

  “DVD players, Wi-Fi, cable.”

  “You don’t even have Wi-Fi?” How could anyone survive without Wi-Fi? “No wonder I had to use your neighbor’s network. You don’t have one.”

  Maggie laughed. “Sometimes I do it too, but he just recently secured it with a password.”

  “It was totally easy to hack.”

  “What?”

  Ben shrugged as she had earlier.

  “You seriously broke into my neighbor’s network by hacking his password?” Maggie asked, hugging a pillow to her chest.

  “He deserves to be broken into. His password is his house number and the name of his pet.”

  “How do you know the name of his pet?”

  “There’s a sign on his front porch that says, ‘Beware of Princess.’ I thought it was a joke at first, until I saw the giant dog on his steps.”

  “Let me guess, she had a collar on that said ‘Princess?’”

  “I didn’t get close enough to read it. I just assumed she was Princess because, trust me, I was very aware of her.”

  Maggie shook her head and laughed.

  “We could hack in now?” Ben pulled out his phone.

  “I don’t have Netflix. Plus,” she pointed to the television, “I have a dumb TV, not a smart one.”

  Ben raised a brow as he studied the antiquated television with a tube in the back. “I wouldn’t say dumb so much as,” he hesitated not wanting to offend Maggie.

  “Old. I know it, go ahead and say it.”

  “Why even have it?”

  “It’s been here for years. I guess at this point the TV is sentimental.”

  He dropped into the seat next to her and took her hand. He was happy to sit and talk, if she was.

  “So, what happened, Maggie? With your dad, I mean.”

  Her green eyes met his and held his gaze. He felt as if she were assessing him for loyalty.

  He must have passed, because she gave a small nod and spoke. “Most people in town know my father is an alcoholic. I mean, was…is…hell, I don’t know.”