Her Leading Man

by Maggie Dallen

  No, he was no longer like Alejandro and Olivia and he wasn’t doomed to repeat his father’s mistakes. He’d grown, changed. He now knew a real relationship when it came his way, and it was what he’d had with Caitlyn.

  Some of the pride rushed out of him as the memory of Caitlyn’s pained expression once more bombarded him. His groan earned him some curious stares, none more intense than Natalie’s. He forced a laugh at the story Alejandro was telling but inside his brain was reeling. But that was nothing to the flip flops his heart was doing. It sank into the pit of his stomach before twisting with a stabbing pain.

  Either he was having a heart attack or an epiphany because he was almost certain he saw a light—and the light sucked. She had been right. Caitlyn was spot on when she’d called him a coward.

  He’d come to this dinner thinking he was being strong. Thinking he was proving something to himself and his ex. But that wasn’t strength. He was a coward.

  And in walking away from Caitlyn… It wasn’t just because he was afraid she would be hurt; he was afraid of getting hurt himself. He’d never once risked his heart. In fact, looking back, he could see clearly that he’d gone to great measures to ensure that he never got too close. He kept his distance from women who could potentially love him, not just to protect them but to protect himself. He never let himself experience love because he was so afraid of heartbreak.

  Until Caitlyn. Just thinking of her name brought the image of her wide brown eyes, angelic features, and those luscious curves. In his mind’s eye she was laughing and it nearly killed him. He loved her.

  There was no use denying it—to himself, or to her. Why had he tried? He’d known when she was in his arms that he never wanted to let her go. Hell, he’d known that night when she’d told him she was falling for him. His heart had nearly leaped out of his chest, and deep down he’d known then and there that he was a goner. He should have owned up to it that night, and he should have gotten down on his knees and sworn his love last week in the snow. But instead he’d panicked. He’d frozen and run away.

  She’d been right. She did deserve better than him because he was the weakest person he’d ever met. He was a coward.

  A mental image of Caitlyn baring her soul in her living room seared his brain and brought with it the now familiar stab of gut-wrenching pain. What Caitlyn had done—now that was strong. That was courageous, even.

  And he’d hurt her.

  She was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and for some unknown, unimaginable reason, she had fallen for him. Of course he didn’t deserve her but who was he to question a miracle? Life had gone and handed him a cool, sweet glass of lemonade and he’d somehow managed to turn it into a pile of rotting, sour lemons. Well done.

  What are you going to do about it?

  The little part of him that wasn’t wallowing in self-pity demanded action. A restlessness stirred in him, making it impossible to sit still and take part in any more idle chitchat.

  He’d made a mess of everything and he’d hurt Caitlyn… Now it was up to him to fix it. A little voice cautioned that he might still hurt her but he silenced it. It was a risk, sure, but it was a risk she was willing to take. So what was his excuse? If she could take a chance on them, why couldn’t he? They both had a lot to lose, mainly their hearts, but wouldn’t it be better to try? If she could be courageous, then so could he.

  Ben leaped out of his chair quickly. Too quickly, judging by the shocked expressions on the faces surrounding him.

  “Are you okay?” Natalie whispered in a loud voice.

  “Yeah, I, uh…” He surveyed the upturned faces. Oh hell, he didn’t have time for diplomacy. “I’ve got to tell a girl I love her.”

  He ignored the gasps and whispers as he grabbed his jacket and headed toward the door. Only Natalie’s triumphant whoop reached him as he headed toward the restaurant’s exit.

  He just hoped and prayed that Caitlyn would give him another chance.

  Chapter 17

  Ben ran out the restaurant door to the curb. He’d wasted precious days letting her believe that he didn’t care, and the thought that she might spend one more second under that misapprehension was unbearable. He had to make this right and he had to do it now.

  Hailing a cab was a hopeless cause. It was a Friday night and it was freezing outside. He stood there waving like a madman as one unlit cab after another breezed by. No nearby subways or buses would take him to the heart of the Lower East Side and the sense of urgency to get to her was overwhelming.

  Muttering curses under his breath, he started the long, cold walk to the theater. The walk turned into a jog and then into a full-on sprint until he finally spotted the weathered marquee.

  He paused in front of the entrance for a moment to catch his breath and rehearse what he would say. He’d had a nice long run to conjure up a speech that would win her back yet somehow it all kept coming back to one thing—he was an idiot and he wanted her back. Here’s hoping Caitlyn wasn’t one to hold grudges.

  “Hey there, sailor.”

  Ben’s head shot up and he spotted Alice leaning against the far side of the ticket booth talking to some guy who looked vaguely familiar. He took a step toward them warily. Alice had been the first to warn him about hurting Caitlyn. And now that he thought about it, she’d been the first to realize that he was in as much danger, if not more, of getting hurt. She’d seen right through his crass, tough-guy routine from the start.

  Now she was eyeing him, her expression unreadable. Decked out in her costume, she was the spitting image of Rita Hayward. “Gilda?” he asked.

  She tipped her chin in acknowledgement and a little smirk tugged at her lips. The guy she was talking to had apparently not received the message that the theme was old movies because his costume was a pair of green hospital scrubs.

  He waited for the lecture, the angry yelling—whatever Caitlyn’s friend could dish out, he could take it. He deserved it, all of it. But impatience was eating at him. He had to see Caitlyn and make this right before another moment passed. He didn’t want to live another second without her in his life.

  Alice must have seen some of the desperation on his face because she jerked her head toward the entrance to the lobby. “What are you waiting for? Go on and win back your girl.”

  His girl. A brief flicker of hope lightened the anxious weight in his chest that made it hard to breathe. The fact that one of her closest friends didn’t think his quest was impossible was heartening. Maybe he hadn’t destroyed everything completely. He could salvage this; he knew he could. That was all he needed to pounce on the door.

  The lobby was crowded, filled with men and women in old-timey attire, some more elaborate than others. But he didn’t care about these people. It took everything in him not to shove them out of the way as he maneuvered through the crowd to find her. Maybe he could scream her name over the jazz music that underscored the rumble of partygoers talking and laughing.

  He moved past a woman with a giant feathered hat and then there she was on the far side of the dimly lit lobby. At the first sight of Caitlyn, Ben stopped breathing. He’d seen her coming out of the shower wrapped in nothing but a towel, he’d seen her in his T-shirt that hung down to her thighs—he’d even seen her in skimpy lingerie once. But never had he seen her more heart-stoppingly beautiful. She was decked out in a 30s-era dress that fit her curves to a tee, her hair was done up in an intricate, curled style, and her lips were a bright red. She was gorgeous. But it was the fact that she was there, in his life, when he’d been trying to get used to the fact that he would never see her again, that made her more beautiful and precious than anything he’d ever seen.

  If she gave him a second chance, he would make her happy. He would devote his life to making sure she felt cherished and adored each and every day.

  She caught him gawking and her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of him. He was dimly aware of her friends nearby, all of whom had stopped what they we
re doing to stare at him as though he’d just crashed through the window.

  She seemed frozen in place as he moved toward her. When he stood directly in front of her, so close he could smell her shampoo and could reach out and touch her if he dared, she asked, “What are you doing here?”

  * * * *

  She was dreaming. She had to be dreaming. She’d fantasized about Ben coming back into her life so many times over the past week and a half that she had finally crossed the line from daydream to hallucination.

  “What are you doing here?” Was that her voice? She hadn’t intended to speak. He was so close she could smell his soap and feel the cold coming off his coat. Why would he be here? A flickering of hope filled her chest but she did her best to squelch it. Don’t jump to conclusions. She didn’t think she could live through another rejection. Best to go into this situation with eyes open. No expectations. No hope. He’d made his feelings clear.

  He cleared his throat and Caitlyn realized with a start that he was nervous. Ben—Mr. Say-whatever-is-on-his-mind-and-screw-the-consequences—was actually nervous. That made her feel oddly calm.

  His voice was low when he spoke and her friends around her all stopped speaking so they could hear. “Sometimes, when I’ve been a complete and utter ass, I like to ask myself one question. WWCGD?”

  WWCGD? What the hell? But then the rest of his words sank in and Caitlyn’s chest tightened. He admitted that he’d been an ass. Was he admitting he was wrong? The surge of hope that filled her heart was terrifying—she was setting herself up to have her heart broken. Again. Because he didn’t love her, she reminded herself. He would never love her.

  Yet that flicker of hope seemed determined to stay alive.

  The silence around her seemed to be spreading as the crowd caught on that a scene was unfolding before them, and when Caitlyn spoke, it was for a large audience. “Excuse me?” The words came out on a shaky breath.

  “WWCGD,” Ben repeated. And then, as though explaining to a child, he said, “What would Cary Grant do.”

  A little laugh was startled out of her at that and Ben seemed to gain some confidence.

  “But since I am obviously no Cary Grant, it might be easier to say what he would not do.” Caitlyn was watching him with fascination, her mind reeling. What did this mean?

  Ben cleared his throat. “He would not be a blind asshat when confronted with genuine emotions. He would not be so fucking oblivious that he can’t see real happiness when it slaps him in the face. Most of all, Cary Grant would not walk away from the woman he loves. He wouldn’t—”

  Caitlyn’s breath caught in her throat and her entire body started to tremble. “What did you say?” The words were still echoing in her ears but she couldn’t believe that he’d said them. He loved her. Or was that hope playing tricks with her mind?

  He took a step closer so they were nearly touching. The room was deathly quiet as the crowd listened in.

  The look in Ben’s eyes was so sweet and tender it took her breath away. But there was something more there—there was a hint of fear.

  “Ben, if you’re doing this because you’re afraid you hurt me—” she felt compelled to say.

  He cut her off by taking her hands in his and pulling her toward him so she was pressed against his chest, and they were the only people in that room and quite possibly inhabiting planet Earth.

  His eyes met hers and the depth of emotions she saw there made her knees weak. “I love you, Caitlyn.”

  Caitlyn’s heart stopped beating as the words coursed through her, giving her a heady, dreamlike feeling. He loved her.

  “I know I don’t deserve you. I know I’m not good enough to be with you but I promise you I’m trying to be. You make me want to be a better man. You make me want to be Cary-bloody-Grant.”

  The happiness she’d been afraid to trust exploded inside of her as his words sank in. He loved her. Tears were threatening to fall and the words came out in a wobbly voice. “You already are my Cary Grant.”

  He raised his brows in amused disbelief.

  “You’re funny,” she offered.

  “I’m sarcastic.”

  “You’re sardonic,” she corrected, which made him laugh. God, she’d missed his laugh.

  He gave her a rueful smile as he leaned in even closer. “I’m apologizing. You’re not supposed to be defending me.”

  “Sorry.” She bit her lip to keep from laughing aloud.

  “I have a long list to get through here,” he informed her. He drew in a deep breath. “Cary Grant would never walk in on you while you’re getting dressed just to see you naked, he would never leave dirty dishes on the coffee table, or change the channel when—”

  “I love you, Ben.”

  The words she’d been thinking for weeks finally came out of her mouth and it was such a relief. Like a weight had been removed from her chest and the tendrils of hope that had been flickering inside her burst into the open. He loved her. And she loved him. They were really doing this. Hearing the words and saying them herself was magic, but nothing could compare to the look of pure joy on Ben’s face as he scooped her into his arms.

  He crushed her lips beneath his in a searing kiss that branded them both. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on for dear life as his lips moved over her cheeks, her eyelids, her ear, jaw, and neck.

  “I want to move back in,” he said against her neck.

  She pulled back with a breathless laugh. “Easy, tiger. That’s moving a little fast, don’t you think?”

  “You’re right. You deserve to be wooed.”

  “I’m already wooed.”

  “Oh, you ain’t seen anything yet. Get ready to be dated by the master. Get ready to be dated by the man who loves you and adores you and—”

  She cut him off with a kiss.

  When he spoke again, his lips pressed against her ear and his voice was so low that only she could hear. “I want to make love with you. And then, after we’re well and truly satiated, I want to sleep with you. In your bed. And I want to wake up—in your bed. And I want to repeat that sequence of events pretty much every night for the rest of our lives.”

  Caitlyn couldn’t imagine a more perfect proposition.

  * * * *

  Ben was convinced the party would never end. He’d wanted to scoop her up in his arms and get her out of the theater, into a cab, and back to her apartment. But his plan was thwarted was by her friends.

  It seemed Alice had taken off without warning, throwing everyone into a panic. Since she was the organizer, someone needed to stick around to make sure the caterers and staff were paid and all the details taken care of. Meg and her husband had gone to see if Alice was all right, and Tamara was stuck answering questions about the theater for the patrons who were interested in its history. Which meant Caitlyn had been stuck making sure the party ended without a hitch.

  And Ben was left to watch her from the corner. Which wasn’t so much a hardship, really, as he was happy to ogle his new girlfriend any time day or night. But he only had so much patience, and so help him God if he had to watch her smile and sashay across the lobby much longer, he would turn into King Kong and throw her over his shoulder.

  “You do know you look like a stalker standing over here leering like that, don’t you?”

  Ben spun around in surprise to find Gregory standing beside him. “What are you doing here?”

  Dressed in a tux with his hair slicked back, his friend looked disarmingly like a matinee idol from back in the day. Gregory lifted his drink to gesture toward Ben. “Thanks to the favor I did for you, I am this theater’s biggest champion. How could I refuse an invite when this is my new pet project?”

  “Have I said thank you yet for that favor?”

  “Only about twenty times,” Gregory said. He gave Ben a little smile. “Don’t worry about it. Besides, you were right. This place does have character.”

  Ben watched Gregory take in everythi
ng from the faded carpeting to the ornate sconces with the eye of a real estate mogul. But then Gregory’s gaze stopped, fixated by something on the far side of the lobby. “Who’s that?”

  Ben followed his gaze to a small group of costume-clad women gathered near the bar. “Which one?”

  “The blonde.”

  Ben squinted at the woman who was the spitting image of Veronica Lake…albeit pint-sized. “I don’t know—oh wait. Is that?” He leaned in a little closer. Well, hell, she cleaned up well. “That’s Tamara. She runs this place.”

  He watched his friend stare for a little while longer. “Who’s leering now?”

  That got Gregory’s attention back but he ignored the jab. Instead, he kept up his steady perusal. “This place has potential. You were right to help save it.”

  Ben shrugged off the compliment. It still felt a bit odd to be putting emotions ahead of business.

  His gaze was caught by Caitlyn as she flashed a brilliant smile at the bartender. Something told him he’d get used to it. From here on out, she was priority number one.

  “It was a risk,” Gregory added. “But it looks like it could pay off.”

  Ben smiled at that. A risk? Killing the development deal was nothing compared to the risk he’d just taken. But that had paid off better than his wildest dreams.

  Gregory must have seen his attention turn back to Caitlyn. “So you finally woke up and saw what was right in front of your face.” Gregory’s smug grin couldn’t put a damper on Ben’s night.

  “I was an idiot,” Ben admitted happily. “But now that I’ve realized how much I need her, I’m never letting go.”

  Gregory paused, his drink hovering in front of his mouth. But once the shock passed, he slapped Ben on the back. “Good man.”