“Just finished a shoot in Los Angeles. High budget thriller.”
“You between gigs, then?” He took a sip of his champagne, his gaze constant on her face, unflinching, but there was something else, too. Distrust?
“I'm going to be in town for awhile,” she said. It hadn't been announced yet, but Graham had chosen River Valley as the location for his latest movie, a love story set in a river town. It sounded cheesy to Bella but what did she know? She just painted the actors’ and actress’ faces to be as pretty as possible despite the harshness of HD film. “Staying here at Drake's.”
“Really?” His eyes widened slightly. “Why's that?”
She smiled and used her saucy voice. “To be close to you.” Damn him, anyway. There was no reason she couldn't flirt. Make him remember how hot it had been between them.
“Oh, is that how it's going to be?” His face darkened. He rubbed under his eye with a circular motion.
“What?”
“All flirty and tempting before you disappear again with no warning?”
“Is that what you think I did?”
“Bella, it is what you did. And in the words of Maya Angelou, when people show you who they are, believe them the first time.”
Her voice went higher, defensive. “That isn't who I am. I had some unfinished business.”
“Yep. I get it. You weren't available. Too busy giving it all up for a married man. Brilliant move.”
His anger surprised her but she felt it too, hot in her chest. What gave him the right to judge her? “Glass houses, huh, Ben? Must be nice to be so morally superior. If I remember right, you weren't exactly holding back that night in your pursuit of me. And you didn't exactly ask my situation.”
“Guess I figured you were free when you fell into bed without pause.”
She stared at him, the anger in her throat now. “You were there, too.”
His question came fast, like he was spewing without thought. “Bella, what were you doing with him? Three years?”
“It was a mistake.”
“A long one.” His cheeks were pink. He pulled at the collar of his shirt.
“I've beaten myself up enough over this. No need for you to do it, too.” Her voice caught; a lump had formed at the back of her throat.
“I have a low tolerance for cheaters. And you deserve better,” he added, softer.
“I know that.”
“Do you?” He cocked his head to the side, staring at her with what could only be described as skepticism.
“I've been doing the work, Ben, to understand why I did what I did.”
“The work?”
“Therapy.”
“Good for you.”
He sounded so bitter, she almost gasped. “It's no coincidence I fell for Graham a month after Chloe and Esther were killed. I was devastated. And desperate to fill the pain with something.”
“I can understand that,” he said, his face transforming into something less guarded but more pained.
“Can you?”
“Yes.”
Neither said anything for a long moment. The light was fading now and a breeze had come to the mountain, bringing the scent of Drake's late September roses.
“Where's your date?” asked Bella, both as a way to break the silence and because she couldn't help herself.
“In the house.” He leaned against the tree, taking another swallow of his champagne. “She's not really a date.”
“What does that mean?”
“I'm not dating her. She's just my date here. For the wedding,” he added, as if that weren't implied.
“How old is she, anyway?”
He smiled for the first time. “That bugging you? You hate it because you're not the most attractive woman at the party?” Despite the smile, there was more than just a hint of spite.
“Wow. That wasn't nice,” she said, fighting tears as she swallowed the last of her champagne. She needed another glass. Pronto.
His face softened. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean that.” His voice sounded husky and tender now, like the night they'd spent together. “Anyway, you are the prettiest girl at this party. At any party.”
Like she'd just been wrapped in a soft blanket, she went warm with pleasure. Have the courage to tell the truth, she instructed herself. “Ben, I'm finished with Graham. Have been since the moment I went back to Los Angeles. The truth is, you got under my skin. Big time. And I'm sorry for how we left things. It was my fault. Totally my fault. I was confused and, well, it was just bad timing. I'd love to try again.” She paused, watching the bubbles in his glass of champagne. Even his hands were sexy: close cropped nails, thin tufts of dark blond hair on his wrists and knuckles. She shivered, remembering the way he'd moved his hands over her body, the way he'd gripped her hips, how lightly he'd touched her breasts. “I'm going to be here. Working on the film.” She moved her gaze to his face, hoping to see a clue to his thoughts, but he was looking towards the house with the same veiled look in his green eyes. “There was a real connection between us. Right? You felt it too?”
“I did.” His voice was muffled, subdued. “Like nothing I'd felt before.”
She filled with hope. Perhaps there was a chance. Annie was right. Just be open, tell him the truth. “I haven't stopped thinking about you.”
He met her gaze then, reaching out and touching her bare arm with the tips of his fingers. There it was, the undeniable spark, like something alive between them. “I haven't stopped thinking about you either.” He withdrew his hand, looking up at the sky and then back at her. “But Bella, you're bad news—a heartbreak waiting to happen. And I can't go through another one. I won't survive.”
“Another one?”
He rolled his glass between his hands and spoke as if relaying someone else's story instead of his own. “I was engaged to a woman I'd been with for three years. A week before the wedding my fiancée told me she was in love with my cousin, who was like a brother to me. We grew up together. Close. Anyway, it wrecked my world. I couldn't function. Almost lost my job. If it hadn't been for your brother's grace I would've. I cannot possibly go through something like that again. I had a little taste of it that morning you left. Took me weeks to get past it and start breathing again. So, no, Bella. Just no.”
With that he turned and strode across the grass to the deck.
Bella, her heart twisting and sinking, sat on the swing, fighting tears. Well, screw you, Ben Fleck. If you're stupid enough to walk away from this, then it's just your loss. But her bravado was only a trickle, a small glimmer of anything true. She wanted to bury her face in her hands and weep. But she would not. Not on this day, of all days. Her brother, finally, had found happiness with a sweet and beautiful girl. This was to be celebrated. She could weep later, alone in her room, like she'd done all her life.
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