by Deb Kastner
But now Ben was in the picture, whatever that meant, and she and BJ were talking about exchanging pictures. This was all getting far too real for her and far too complicated for her liking. Sure, they’d talked about meeting each other at a stateside mission someday, but that day had always been some distant, unspecified date in the future.
She had mixed feelings about the whole thing. Half of her was scared to death to see what BJ looked like. The other half didn’t really care at all—because, to be honest, her heart was leaning elsewhere. What did it matter what BJ did or did not look like when she couldn’t keep her mind off Ben?
Her heart roared in her ears. She definitely wasn’t ready for that kind of honesty yet. She couldn’t even look Ben in the eye. That did not bode well for any kind of real relationship with Ben, but no matter what happened on that front, she knew without a doubt that she could never have any kind of a relationship with BJ while she felt this way about another man.
It saddened her to think there would be no more emails to look forward to, no more bright spots in her day just knowing BJ was out there somewhere, possibly thinking of her just the way she had been thinking of him.
As a friend. A supporter. He’d definitely been those things.
She sighed. What was the old proverb? All good things must come to an end? She supposed that applied to mythical internet relationships, too.
“Hello? Earth to Vee. Are you reading, Vee?”
“Huh?” Vee snapped out of her reverie to find Olivia waving a hand in front of her face.
“That’s what I thought. You aren’t paying any attention to me at all. You’re staring at Ben.”
She snapped her gaze back to Olivia’s. “Was not.”
“Were, too. Deny it all you want, girlfriend, but you’ve got a thing for him.”
“I thought we were talking about BJ.”
Olivia barked out a laugh. “Did anyone ever tell you how contrary you are? When I mention Ben, you want to talk about BJ. When I suggest we see what the elusive BJ looks like, you want to talk about Ben.”
“I am not contrary,” she countered, then realized that simply by answering she was proving Olivia’s point.
“So you’ll check your email to see if BJ sent his picture? And you’ll look at it if he did?”
“You aren’t going to let this go, are you?” Vee muttered morosely.
“Have you ever known me to let go of an interesting tidbit of gossip?”
“This isn’t gossip.”
“No, it is not. It is way better than gossip. More interesting, by far,” Olivia assured her.
“Fine,” Vee snapped.
“Fine? You mean you’ll look at the photograph?”
“No. I mean you’ll look if it’s that interesting to you. I don’t even want to know what BJ looks like anymore.”
“Because you’ve already fallen for Ben.”
Vee sighed dramatically. “Do you know that you exasperate me sometimes?”
Olivia grinned like the Cheshire cat. “I know. And you love me for it.”
“Actually, I love you in spite of it, if you must know.”
Olivia reached in front of Vee and wiggled the computer mouse, bringing the screen in front of the two of them to light.
Vee’s stomach clenched as she opened up the webpage for her email, then typed in her password to pull up her new messages. Maybe BJ hadn’t written. Or maybe he hadn’t sent a photograph like he’d said he was going to.
She glanced at the screen and sighed. Sure enough, there was a message from BJ, complete with an attachment.
She really, really was not ready for this. There was no way she was opening his letter. Not now, at least. She hovered the pointer over the X that would close the browser.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Olivia reprimanded, laying a hand over hers. She really was pushy when she wanted something, Vee thought sullenly. This was one time that she didn’t appreciate that character trait in her best friend.
“I can’t do this.” She knew Olivia wouldn’t buy it, but she had to try to sell it nonetheless.
“Fine.” Olivia’s tone was a cross between enjoyment and exasperation. Mostly amusement, bless her heart. “Then I’ll do it for you. Scoot over and hand me that mouse.”
Vee thought about arguing, but what was the point? Besides, if she deleted the email without looking at BJ’s photo, there would be a teeny, tiny part of her that would always wonder what she’d missed. Olivia was right. Seeing BJ’s photograph would offer her a measure of closure so she could go on with her life. That said...
“I can’t look.” Vee braced her elbows on the table and pushed her palms against her eyes, completely darkening her vision. “Promise that you won’t keep me in suspense too long,” she squeaked. “Just take a quick look at the man and put me out of my misery.”
“No problem. I’ll fill you in on the general details, and then you can decide if you want to have a peek yourself. I’ll give you all the good stuff. You know what I’m talking about. Tall. Short. Big. Little. Handsome. Troll.”
“Olivia!”
“Kidding. I’m kidding. No, not really. I’m not. Who better than me to discern if a man is right for you? Your best friend since kindergarten. I know you better than anyone. I’ll point you in the right direction.”
“You’re pushing Ben at me,” Vee felt led to point out.
“Exactly.”
With her elbows braced on the table and her palms tightly covering her eyes, she heard, rather than saw, the abrupt change in Olivia’s demeanor as her best friend swept in a high, squeaky breath and exclaimed in surprise.
“Oh, my. Oh my, oh my, oh my.”
Vee groaned and pushed her palms more tightly against her eyes, as if that would somehow make this situation go away. “What is it? Does he have scales?”
“Um, not exactly,” Olivia answered slowly. “No, I definitely would not say that.”
“What, then? Is he a modern-day replica of Clark Gable, so unbelievably gorgeous that he instantly took your breath away and made your heart leap out of your chest?”
Vee expected Olivia to break into laughter at her measly attempt at humor, but she sounded surprisingly sober for one who had only moments earlier been pushing Vee to take a look at her mystery man.
The mood had changed. Vee felt it in every fiber of her being. Every muscle tensed, every tendon stretched, until she was shaking from the effort of merely being there.
“You’re getting warmer,” Olivia offered after a painful pause.
“Well, that’s good to know,” Vee replied, as tongue-in-cheek as she could manage. “So he’s not dreadful to look at, then?”
“Not at all.” That answer came quickly. Maybe too quickly.
“So describe him to me. I’m dying here.”
“You could just look.”
“I could, but why spoil your fun?” Actually, Vee was still battling her own fear. It wouldn’t help her to stretch it out any more than necessary, but she couldn’t help but try.
“Okay, then.” Olivia started out slowly, drawing out each syllable. “Broad shoulders, dark hair, nice eyes.”
“Nice eyes? That’s kind of vague, don’t you think? What color are they?”
“They’re kind of a mixture of colors. They’re hard to describe with words. You’ll just have to open your eyes and see for yourself. And Vee? Leaving personality aside, and past history, who is the best-looking man in Serendipity?”
Vee felt the tension leave her shoulders. Olivia was obviously talking about Ben. If BJ was anywhere near as handsome as Ben Atwood, Vee had nothing to fear in looking at his picture, except the terrifying notion of him ever finding out what she looked like.
Boy, would he be disappointed. But that was not going to happen, since she had no
intention of sending him a picture back—especially now that she’d learned BJ was a handsome man—it was all good.
“Vee?” Olivia queried. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Ben. Ben Atwood. He’s the best-looking man in town,” she said, low enough that others nearby would not overhear. “I know that’s what you think, too. So does BJ look like Ben, then?”
“Yeah, about that.” Olivia hesitated again.
“Well, does he?”
“Yes. Yes, he definitely looks like Ben.”
Vee did not like the way Olivia’s voice sounded, all high and squeaky and strangled. An awful possibility filled Vee’s mind to explain why she was having such difficulty.
Ready to face the truth at last, or at least unable to deny it any longer, she dropped her hands from her eyes, already knowing what she was going to see when she looked at the screen.
Or rather, who.
“No way,” she croaked, shaking her head fervently.
No. Possible. Way.
“This cannot be happening to me. Olivia, there must be some kind of mistake.”
“Think of the odds,” Olivia agreed, sounding as astounded as Vee felt.
Ben Atwood, staring out at her with his easy, charming half smile, his luminous bronze-green eyes—the ones no words could adequately describe—making her heart roar in her ears until she could hardly hear anything else.
Vee couldn’t process it. She just couldn’t.
“Ben can’t be BJ,” Vee hissed in a harsh whisper, desperately leaning toward Olivia’s shoulder, half for support and half so that she would not be overheard. “Turn off that traitorous machine before someone else sees his picture on there! This is not right. There must be some kind of horrible mistake.”
“Like what, Vee? How would BJ get his hands on a picture of Ben unless he is Ben?”
“I don’t know, but there must be some other explanation. Something. Anything.”
She knew that there wasn’t another explanation for this phenomenon, just as deeply and absolutely as the fact that she hadn’t had a single clue that BJ was Ben before this very moment.
How could she have worked with him every day, held conversations, even kissed him, and not known? It was unfathomable.
“Maybe there’s another man in this town,” Olivia suggested, “using Ben’s picture because he’s the better-looking one. Maybe he’s trying to pass himself off as Ben because he’s really as ugly as a rock.”
“It’s not another man in Serendipity,” Vee admitted with a groan. “Anyway, BJ could never be ugly to me, no matter what he looked like.”
Ben. Not BJ. That would take some time to process.
“No, it’s doubtless not another man. I’m sorry, Vee, but I can’t think of any other scenarios, probable or otherwise. So what are you going to do about it, now that you know it’s Ben on the other end of the line?”
She wanted to scream, but she was in public. Maybe later, into her pillow at home.
“Do about it?” she whispered weakly, hardly able to speak. “I don’t know.”
Her heart sunk. What was she going to do about it?
“You have to do something.”
“No I don’t,” Vee replied just a bit too quickly. “I don’t have to do anything about it at all. I can simply delete the email and pretend I never saw Ben’s picture. Simple as that. End of story.”
“Really? You think you can do that?” Olivia peered at her speculatively and then shook her head. “You think you can just pretend it never happened, that you never discovered that BJ and Ben were one and the same? Do you think you can work alongside Ben every day and never give away any indication that you and he were ever a cyber-item? And what about your class with BJ? Aren’t you working on a project together?”
“You make it sound impossible,” Vee complained grumpily. Which, of course, it was. Even if she could ignore Ben in person, she could hardly ignore BJ. Half his grade was their combined project. She took the computer mouse away from Olivia, who hadn’t yet closed the browser. Not only was Vee afraid someone else might see the telling photograph, but she simply couldn’t stand to look directly at Ben’s smiling face a moment longer.
No wonder Olivia couldn’t describe the color of Ben’s eyes. They defied explanation, at least any kind that could be put into words.
“Honestly, I think it would be impossible. I know I couldn’t do it, even if I tried. I’d be bound to slip up eventually and say something that would tip him off.”
That was Olivia, though, who, bless her soul, tended to chatter. Vee was more hush-hush about things. She’d more than likely be able to pull it off.
Except for the fact that she’d blush to her toes every time her eyes met Ben’s, and how obvious was that? Vee wasn’t a blushing woman any more than she was a talkative one, so her turning the color of an apple at inopportune moments would be a dead giveaway.
Oh, what was she going to do?
“Maybe you could just send him your picture back? Throw the ball into his court and let him decide what to do with it? If nothing else, he’d be able to experience the same shock you are feeling.”
Vee thought that was an excellent suggestion, for about one second, until she started thinking about the ramifications of such an act.
First of all, she’d have to find a photograph to send him, and she did not take good pictures. Not that it mattered, but she had her pride. Second, the wait would be excruciating. She’d be on pins and needles every second after she hit Send.
And what if he decided never to speak to her about it at all? Could she really handle working around him and seeing him around town knowing that he knew that she knew that...
This was getting really complicated.
Impossible, more like.
Why had she ever, ever thought she could conduct any sort of relationship online, romantic or otherwise? Had she really believed it would somehow be easier than conducting her affairs in person?
The whole situation would have been funny if it wasn’t so serious. She certainly wasn’t laughing now.
“Maybe you should just come clean with him,” Olivia suggested. “Just tell him the truth—that you were surprised to learn it was him when you received his picture, and you’re sure he’ll be as flabbergasted as you to discover you’ve each been emailing someone who lives in the same town—who works for the same fire department, to be exact.”
“That’s going to go over well.” Vee couldn’t even imagine how she would start that conversation.
“Maybe you two will eventually laugh about it,” Olivia suggested.
“Somehow I don’t think he’ll find this funny.” Not any more than she did. He’d probably think it was much, much worse.
She was on the winning end of this equation. Plain Jayne meets Hunky Paramedic. No contest there.
Yeah, no. That wasn’t going to happen. She could not stand the humiliation of coming clean on this one.
“Remember, he did kiss you,” Olivia reminded her, as if she had somehow deduced where Vee’s thoughts had taken her.
That was true. Vee wondered how she’d forgotten about Ben’s kiss, even for a moment. Technically, she’d kissed him, but he hadn’t seemed to mind.
Which only served to complicate matters even further, if that were possible.
She didn’t know how to feel about what had happened between them, only that she’d been surprised at the intense feelings he stirred in her. She’d always thought she disliked him, putting it mildly; and maybe she had because of what he’d done to Olivia.
But now she’d let that go. And that she was attracted to him, though she had initially tried to deny it.
Given that new bit of insight, there was no way bringing the current situation to light would be a good idea for anyone involved. Hea
rtache, maybe even heartbreak, was the very best she could hope for.
But what else could she do?
Delete her email account?
No, she’d still have to work with Ben. And she couldn’t leave BJ in the lurch without finishing her end of the project. Different solution, same problems.
Quit the fire station?
How was that fair? Because she knew about the online relationship and he didn’t? That just didn’t seem right.
Maybe she should just pack up and move.
To Siberia.
To be a tiger trainer.
She thought that was her best idea yet. Out of sight, out of mind and out of country.
If only it were that easy.
“What am I going to do?” she groaned to Olivia. It was a rhetorical question, obviously, with no answer whatsoever, and she’d already asked it several times this afternoon.
There was no more time to think about it. The high-pitched beep, beep, beep of her emergency pager broke into her thoughts.
She was needed at the firehouse. There was some kind of emergency situation.
Her problems with Ben would have to wait.
She had a job to do.
Chapter Twelve
Ben was already at the station when the call came through, so he was a first-responder to the location. According to the operator, a leak in a gas stove had caused an explosion in the kitchen of a farmhouse a couple of miles south of Serendipity. The whole unstable house was coming down at an alarming rate.
As with nearly all of the emergencies in the tri-county area, Ben knew the folks involved. The Salingers were part of Ben’s church family. They had four children under ten—two boys ages six and nine, a three-year-old little girl and an infant son.
Ben’s adrenaline was pumping full steam ahead as he hit the siren to the ambulance and flipped the switch for the flashing lights, even knowing his skills as a paramedic would probably not be needed. The neighbor who’d called it in said the family had gotten out of the blaze safely and were standing by for assistance.
