“Stop that.” She smacked his hand, earning another grin. “I’m serious.”
“I’m serious, too.” He pulled a few coins from his pocket and dropped them into the meter. “If you’re not going in there, I’m sure as hell not either. In fact, that’s a great idea. My dad took the kids to a movie so the house is probably empty.” He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “Or better yet, your house is empty. Let’s head there.”
She shook her head. “You have an appointment.”
“He’ll get the idea.” Ben reached for her, his eyes a mix of passion and boyish hopefulness that made her forget about her own mortification. Maybe a PDA was worth it if she had this kind of effect on him.
Still, she sidestepped his grasp. “That’s rude and not how my mother raised me.”
He made a face. “One advantage to not having a decent mom. No expectations.”
The truth behind his careless words made her heart ache for him. “I expect more from you,” she said quietly, wondering how he’d respond.
She watched as he absorbed the comment, could almost see his brain working as he decided how to respond. Finally he nodded. “Open mind,” he said and led her into the building.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ben not only had trouble keeping his mind open, he could barely focus on anything except Chloe standing next to him. They were at the third building on the realty tour, this one just a couple of miles from the heart of the Highlands where the toy shop was located. It was a prime spot on the corner of a busy intersection near the bridge that connected the hip Lower Highlands neighborhood to downtown.
The sidewalks were bustling with shoppers moving in and out of the stores along the treelined streets. The building had a huge dining area and a state-of-the-art kitchen. According to the realtor, it had been renovated only a few years ago, when a sushi restaurant had opened in the space. Ben appreciated the wide-plank floors and neutral walls as much as he did the double-capacity refrigerator in the back. The sushi bar would have to be reconfigured, but this was the type of space that would be simple to convert.
“This one is good.” Chloe glanced at him. “Even you have to admit it’s good.”
“The space isn’t as bad as the first two,” Ben said with a shrug. “But I’m not convinced it’s right for what I have in mind.”
“Which is?” she prompted.
He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her but didn’t offer any clarification on his plans for a restaurant. She’d prodded him for information most of the afternoon, but he’d deflected each of her questions. He knew she and Mark thought he was being purposely evasive, and Ben wasn’t about to admit he had no idea what type of restaurant he wanted to open.
She huffed out a breath at his continued reticence and turned to the realtor. “Why did the previous restaurant go out of business?”
Mark Chevers leaned closer, as if imparting a state secret. “An outbreak of salmonella linked to their fish. Twice.” Ben watched the realtor’s gaze meet Chloe’s. “Do you like sushi?” he asked with a wink.
“Mainly the rolls,” she answered with her usual sweet smile. “But maybe I should think twice?”
“I know a great place in the Tech Center that serves top-quality sushi. We should check it out some time.”
Ben blinked, certain his realtor hadn’t just asked Chloe out on a date with Ben standing there. Especially after the guy had caught them playing tonsil hockey only a couple of hours ago. He felt Chloe stiffen next to him and placed a protective arm around her waist, gratified when she stepped closer. “I left my phone in the car,” he told her. “Would you mind grabbing it for me? I want to get a picture of the kitchen area.”
He understood why she looked at him curiously. He hadn’t asked one question or shown any interest in any of the spaces they’d seen until now.
“Um, sure.” She walked out the front door, and Ben’s blood pressure shot through the roof as Mark’s eyes followed her backside.
As soon as she was out of sight, he gave the realtor a hard shove, sending him back against the bar. One of the high chairs crashed onto the floor, echoing in the silence.
“What the hell, man?” Mark straightened, his bright yellow tie askew. He adjusted the tie and smoothed his hands over his expensive suit. Ben could see monogrammed cuffs peeking out from the sleeves of the tailored jacket. The guy was young and eager, and up until this point Ben had actually felt sorry for him trying so hard to make a sale that would never happen.
“You tell me,” Ben shot back, keeping an eye on the front door as he shouted. “You think I’m going to let you make a play for my girl in front of me?”
Mark’s jaw dropped. “I’m sorry, Beast. I—”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Right.” The realtor nodded, his head bobbing up and down. “I didn’t realize you two were together.”
Ben crossed his arms over his chest.
“I mean, I saw you so I knew something . . . I’ve seen photos of you in the tabloids, heard stories that you don’t do second dates.” He flapped his hands in front of him, as if he couldn’t catch a breath. Probably because he was afraid of getting his ass kicked, which Ben was mentally trying to determine if he could manage before Chloe returned. “She’s cute and seems fun. I assumed things weren’t serious between the two of you so . . .”
They’re not, Ben thought.
“They are,” he answered. “She’s definitely with me.” He had the urge to threaten the panicked realtor, but Ben hadn’t actually been in a physical fight in years and he’d definitely never done more than exchange a few punches. The producers of the show edited episodes to make his outbursts seem more explosive than they were in real life, so Ben understood Mark’s reaction to him. That didn’t mean he liked it.
The other man nodded. “I’m going to turn off the lights in the kitchen. Take your time getting pictures and holler when you’re ready.” He sidestepped toward the edge of the bar then made a break for the hallway leading to the commercial kitchen.
Ben picked up the overturned chair and slid it back under the bar, gripping the back of it hard. It killed him that the realtor was right. Ben was almost as well known for his penchant for one-night stands as he was for his temper in the kitchen. Over the years, there’d been plenty of photos of him with various beautiful women who were little more than shallow arm candy.
The fact that he’d treated Chloe like that, practically mauling her on a public street, made his gut tighten with embarrassment. She was beautiful inside and out and deserved to be treated like it. He’d meant to do that today. By taking her to Artie’s, he shared more of himself with her than he had with any other woman in his life. Then he’d screwed things up. Anyone who saw her with him would assume she was just a casual fling because that’s all he did. But his feelings for Chloe were way more than casual. Reason enough to end things now, to go back to being rivals and to life as he knew it.
That life held little appeal at the moment, and, if he admitted the truth, it hadn’t in a long time. The problem was he didn’t know how to live any other way. He was afraid if he tried, all he’d do was fail. Even making plans for a restaurant scared the hell out of him. That was another part of the reason the toy store location was so appealing. It would take a long time to renovate the space into something that would work as a restaurant, buying him the time he needed to develop a concept and menu for the space. Sometimes it felt like all the unimaginative food he’d cooked for the show over the past couple of years had sucked the culinary creativity straight out of him. Or maybe he’d never had it to begin with. That was his biggest fear, not being able to live up to his larger-than-life reputation. What if flash and attitude really was all there was to him?
“I couldn’t find the phone.”
He whirled as Chloe spoke behind him. “It was in my pocket the whole time,” he said with a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”
“Where’s Mark?” She handed him the keys and he pulled her in for a hug, r
esting his chin on the top of her head.
“Making sure we turned off all the lights in the building.”
“It felt like he asked me out. That’s weird, right?”
“It’s not weird,” he whispered into her hair. “It’s downright stupid.”
“Are you deliberately being an ass?” She pulled back and glanced up at him.
It took him a moment to understand her meaning, then he framed her face with his hands. “Any man would be lucky to be with you, Chloe. But not while I’m around.”
She actually laughed at that.
“I’m serious,” he said, his voice coming out a rasp. What if she wanted to go out with the realtor? What if this afternoon had only been about getting him to look at other restaurant spaces? Of course it had. Why would he think it was anything more for her?
“Come on, Ben.” She dropped her hands from around his waist, but he didn’t let her go. “I’ve heard enough about your reputation to know you don’t do exclusive and we’re not—”
“We are,” he countered, smoothing his thumbs over her cheeks. He wanted to touch her all the time, to lose himself in the softness of her skin, in her sunshiny scent. “I want to know you better, Chloe. I want to know everything.”
Her gaze shifted to his shoulder.
“We can take things slow,” he said quickly. “As slow as you need, but as long as we’re together, it’s only you and me.”
She took a step back and he let her go. This was her choice. He wouldn’t pressure or force her. She had to choose, both for herself and him.
“Did you get your photos?” she asked, moving away from him to study the bar area.
“Yes,” he lied, holding up his phone when she gave him a disbelieving stare. He opened the camera app and snapped a few pictures of her before she realized what he was doing.
“Enough,” she said with a laugh, holding up one hand. “I need to check in at the store.”
He nodded, tamping down his frustration that she’d avoided sharing more about herself once again. He understood her hesitation and why he needed to give her time to get used to the idea of being with him. But impatience was one of his worst traits, especially when he wanted something as badly as he wanted Chloe.
Which was almost as much as he wanted The Toy Chest. He’d have a better chance with her if he let that go. The stupid deal. His insistence on that location. But he couldn’t shirk the promise he’d made to Cory. He’d decided when he was just a kid that when he made it big, he’d put that store out of business. He hadn’t given it much thought over the years, except for the times when Cory had reminded him of that long-ago vow.
Cory had been the one to call Ben after the old man died and prod him to buy the building. At that point, Ben had moved past their teenage plan for vengeance. He’d had his management team handle the whole deal and had almost forgotten he owned the building until Cory had pushed him on shutting down The Toy Chest. He’d been so upset about his brother’s conviction, he would have done anything to offer Cory some happiness. The fact that it coincided with the renewal of the shop’s lease worked in his favor. At least that was what he’d believed at the time.
It would have been easier if Stan Butterfield still owned it. If the old man were alive to watch Ben ruin his beloved toy shop, there would be no question, no hesitation. Chloe complicated things, but he had to believe he could have her and his plan, too.
He called to the realtor then followed Chloe outside. Mark said a quick good-bye, not even making eye contact with Chloe. Ben smiled to himself, but made his face blank when she narrowed her eyes.
They drove in silence the few blocks to The Toy Chest. “Don’t bother parking,” she told him as he rounded the corner. “I can jump out if you pull over.”
“I’ll walk you to the door,” he said, parking in a spot across the street.
She didn’t say anything but allowed him to take her hand as they waited at the crosswalk.
“Thanks again for lunch.” She waved to one of the neighboring shop owners as they crossed the street. “I know you didn’t like any of the locations Mark showed us.”
“They were fine,” he answered noncommittally.
“Right.” They were in front of the store now, and she pulled her hand away. “But I’m not giving up. Either on our deal or convincing you that this isn’t the right place for your restaurant.”
“Then come for dinner tonight,” he suggested, the words spilling out before he had a chance to think about them.
By the look she gave him, it was obvious the invitation came as a surprise. It certainly shocked him. His reputation, annoying as it was, was accurate and . . .
“We spent most of the day together,” she said, “So . . .”
He started to run a hand through his hair then realized he was sweating. He felt as nervous as a teenager asking his first girl to a dance. Christ, he hadn’t been this nervous as a teenager. “No problem if you don’t want to. The kids and my dad will be there, so it’s nothing fancy. Half the time, Zach moans and groans about whatever I put on the table anyway. More than half. All the time.” Now he was having a bad case of verbal diarrhea? Even better. “I shouldn’t have—”
“What time?” she asked, reaching out to touch his arm with one finger. The contact was delicate, barely there, but he felt it shoot all the way through his body.
He swallowed. “Six?”
“Text me the address,” she said with a smile. “I’m excited to have the great Ben Haddox cook for me.”
No pressure there. Still, he couldn’t help his smile. “I’ll see you later.” He leaned forward quickly and kissed her cheek, and not just because he could see Tamara and Karen staring out the front window of the toy store. Screw his reputation. Chloe deserved more, and he was going to give it to her.
She seemed as stunned by his restraint as she had been by the invitation. He opened the door to the store for her and after a moment she walked through. “Thank you for a lovely lunch,” she whispered.
He was slightly mollified to realize she was as reluctant to leave him as he was to have her go. “Good-bye, Chloe.”
As the door closed behind her, he turned and sprinted across the street to his car. He only had a couple of hours until she’d arrive for dinner, and his stomach was as jumpy as it had been when the food critic for the New York Times had come to Vegas to review his menu.
Ben had the suspicion that tonight there was even more on the line.
Chloe adjusted the collar of her blouse as she walked toward the front porch of Ben’s house a few minutes after six. The Toy Chest closed at five on the weekend, and by the time she’d shut everything down and locked up, it hadn’t left her much time to get ready, especially since she’d decided to make the short ride over on her bicycle.
When she’d left her duplex, the bedroom looked like a hurricane had gone through it twice in one day. Between the outfit changes she’d done earlier and finding the right thing to wear for tonight, she’d tried on almost every article of clothing she owned. Silly of her.
As Ben had said, this was simply a casual family dinner. That hadn’t stopped her from changing multiple times before settling on a black silk shirt and a pair of dark jeans. She fingered the delicate silver chain around her neck and tugged at the shirt again. The choice had probably been a mistake. Chloe might be short, but she was curvy and now worried that the deep V-neck was too revealing. She was meeting Ben’s father, after all.
Zach came through the chain-link fence on one side of the plain brick house as she put down the kickstand of her bike at the base of the porch steps. “Hey, Chloe, come on around back,” he called then disappeared again.
“She’s a guest, Zach,” a scratchy voice bellowed. “It’s rude not to greet a guest at the damn front door.”
Chloe hid her smile at the man who stared at her through the screen door. He was built like Ben, although a couple inches shorter with a round stomach covered by a Colorado Rockies T-shirt.
“You
must be Ben’s dad,” she said as she moved forward.
He pushed open the screen. “Harry Haddox,” he answered, holding out a beefy, suntanned hand.
“I’m Chloe Daniels.” His handshake was surprisingly gentle.
“I know. Ben told me you don’t like yelling so I should keep my voice down.” He gave her a sheepish grin that reminded her of his son. “But the truth is I like to be heard. No offense.”
“None taken,” she answered, both touched and embarrassed that Ben had made the request on her behalf. “I brought this for you.” She handed him the small bag with the bright purple bow tied around the handles.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Two spots of color reddened his cheeks, and he studied the bag as if the bag were the gift.
“There’s something inside,” she said gently.
“Right.” He untied the bow and reached inside, pulling out a scuffed, signed baseball.
“Ben told me you’re a big Rockies fan. The man who owned the toy store before me was a memorabilia collector. He took most of it with him when he retired, but I found this in a box in the storage room a few months ago. Mr. Butterfield’s relatives weren’t interested in anything he left behind, and I don’t know much about the game so . . .” She said the words quickly, and it crossed her mind that bringing a used baseball as a gift might not have been the best idea.
Harry held it in his hand, turning the ball around and around as he studied it. “This is from the 1995 season.”
She cringed. “I know. It’s old. Is that bad?”
He laughed. “It was the first season they played at Coors Field after it was built. You say this belonged to Butterfield?”
She nodded then glanced over his shoulder as Ben walked into the entry. “Zach said you were here. You look amazing.”
Chloe felt warmth seep through her.
Ben’s gaze flicked from her to Harry. “Everything ok out here?”
“It’s damn near perfect,” Harry yelled, pumping his fist in the air.
Chloe jumped back a step.
“Christ,” Ben muttered, reaching out a hand to steady her.
Recipe for Kisses Page 9
