“I’d be fine with some sandwiches. I don’t expect you to wait on me. I’m just glad I’m not going to have to sleep on the terminal floor tonight.”
Drying his hands, Ben laughed. “I doubt you would have gotten much sleep.”
She smiled and felt even more tension leave her body. He had a great laugh and really great hands. Big hands.
“So that fireplace throws off a lot of heat, huh?” she said quickly, taking a step away from him to fan herself off.
Behind her, she heard Ben moving around in the kitchen, pulling open the refrigerator and then opening cabinets. “It does. It’s a great feature to have, especially in the winter.”
“I’ll bet.” Stepping closer to it, she couldn’t help but marvel at the stonework—it went from floor to ceiling. Immediately, her mind went to imagining it decorated for Christmas—lots of greenery and twinkly lights, candles, and stockings. It was big enough to hold enough stockings for a family of eight. Stepping back, she continued to admire it, and when she noticed light coming through where the flames were, she crouched to inspect it. “Does this fireplace have two sides?”
“Yup,” he replied and then walked toward her. “On the other side is the master bedroom. When my grandfather originally built this place, it was just the basement and this floor, and the fireplace was the primary source of heat. When I did the upgrades and renovations, I redid the stonework on both sides.” He smiled and motioned for her to follow him. “Come check it out.”
Intrigued, Darcy followed him and immediately stopped short in the doorway.
Holy decadent bed, Batman, she thought to herself. It was huge! Clearly, it was a king-size, but it was high and had this amazing four-poster frame that Ben must have made himself, because it was far too fabulous and unique to be store-bought. Slowly, she stepped into the room, and rather than look at the fireplace, she immediately gravitated toward the bed.
“Did you make this?” she asked softly, reaching out to touch the wood. It was dark in color and smooth as silk. The design that was carved into it was so intricate that all she could imagine was how long he must have worked on it. The hours, the days…months, she imagined, that Ben would have put into this piece. And suddenly, she wanted to see more of his work and cursed the times he had offered to take her to his workshop and she’d declined.
“I did,” he said. His voice was a little low and gruff and came from almost directly behind her.
With a shaky breath, Darcy looked over her shoulder at him even as she continued to stroke the bedpost. “How…how long did this take you?” Her gaze locked with his, and holy hell was it potent.
“Two years. Off and on between other projects.”
Was it her imagination or did he look at her lips? Self-consciously, she licked them and noticed how his gaze lingered there.
This wasn’t good. This was borderline inappropriate, and she needed to put an end to it right now.
“So, the fireplace?” Stepping away from the bed, she switched to a safer topic.
Ben cleared his throat and turned away. “Uh, yeah. The fireplace. It used to be a small, brick facade, but when I redid it, I went with the stacked stone and took it up to the ceiling.” He walked over to the fireplace. “And I did the mantel myself.”
Wood had never been something Darcy looked at, let alone admired, and for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why she had such an overwhelming urge to touch the damn mantel. But she did.
Like a caress.
Like one would touch a lover.
Shit.
“What…what kind of wood did you use for this?” What? Did she seriously ask that? What difference would it make? She had no idea what the difference was between any kinds of wood.
“Mahogany,” he said.
“Oh, well, it’s so smooth and pretty.”
Stop. Stroking. The. Mantel.
“Thanks.” There was a slightly amused look on his face, and Darcy was pretty sure he knew she didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.
“Dinner,” she blurted out. “We should look into what we’re going to make for dinner.” And then she hightailed it out of the room. Between the wood-stroking and the giant bed, her mind was firmly in the gutter, and she needed to stop it. Right now.
Ben followed her to the kitchen, and together they began randomly looking for something to make.
“I can whip up some pasta, or we can do omelets, or even soup and grilled cheese sandwiches,” he suggested. “Any preferences?”
“Do you have bacon?”
He looked taken aback for a moment before he nodded. “I believe I do.”
“I happen to love bacon on my grilled cheese sandwiches. If you promise we can do that, then I’m completely on board with that and some soup.”
“You’re on.”
While Ben went to work on frying up the bacon and getting the sandwiches assembled, he directed Darcy to where he kept the cans of soup and the pots. While she was in the pantry picking what soup she wanted, she also did a quick mental checklist of any baking ingredients he had on hand.
“You’re taking a long time choosing a soup,” Ben called out.
Stepping into the kitchen, she raised two cans in the air and showed him. “I’ll admit I was a little overwhelmed at the variety. When you said you had a fully stocked pantry, you weren’t kidding.”
He laughed softly as he flipped the bacon. “I enjoy cooking almost as much as I enjoy eating. So I try to make sure I always have what I might be in the mood for on hand, because there is nothing worse than finding yourself in the mood for something specific and then not having it here.”
“Probably because you live so far from the nearest grocery store,” she commented. “I don’t think I’ve ever lived more than ten minutes from one.”
“I’m used to it, but I know the importance of shopping with a list.”
She put the cans on the counter and then pulled out a couple of pots. “Do you like to bake?”
Ben shook his head. “Too much measuring. When I cook, I tend to ad lib. I don’t like following recipes. It takes all the fun out of cooking.”
Interesting. “See, I’m the opposite. I love to bake. The precision of it and all the measuring…it works for me. But when I cook, I need a recipe. I mean, not for the basic stuff, but if I’m trying something new, I have to have something to follow.”
He nodded with understanding. “Were you checking out the pantry for baking supplies?” he asked as he smiled at her over his shoulder.
Such a sexy smile, she thought. Is he even aware of that?
Stop it!
“Busted,” she said and then actually felt herself blush.
Seriously, what is going on with me?
“I know there are cake mixes and cans of frosting in there.”
“And you also have a couple of boxes of brownie mix,” she added. “But I did notice the flour and the sugar and some other key ingredients I could use to whip something up from scratch. I’ll probably have to get creative since you don’t have anything other than chocolate chips, but it could be a fun challenge. I’ve never had to work blindly before—you know, without the traditional ingredients.”
“Is that what you want to do? Because I don’t expect you to do anything like that.”
“Actually, the baking wasn’t so much for you as it was for me. It relaxes me, and I just thought, you have this amazing kitchen, and I wanted to check it all out. Besides, I may concoct a fabulous new Christmas cookie!”
“Well, in that case, don’t let me stop you. But feel free to use any of the boxed stuff. I bought it, but I rarely remember to use it. So if it doesn’t offend you, please go right ahead.”
“I might. I know some recipes for cookies that require boxed cake mix. Maybe I’ll try them out.”
“Cookies and a snow day?” he said giddi
ly, and Darcy knew he was being funny. “Ten-year-old me is very excited right now!”
That had her laughing. “I’m not making any promises, because I won’t have a whole lot of time to do much after dinner. But maybe tomorrow.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers, and I’m more than happy to wait.”
Ben went back to frying the bacon while Darcy poured their soups into pots and placed them on the stove. “What would you like to drink?” she asked.
“There’s beer in the fridge,” he said without taking his eyes off the frying bacon. “What about you? What would you like?”
Walking over to the refrigerator, Darcy pulled it open and studied the contents. She could just do water, but that was boring. There was always wine, but she’d had two glasses earlier, and that was her hard limit. She spotted several cans of Coke, a gallon of milk, and a bottle of iced tea. “I’ll probably just grab a can of Coke.”
And then they were back to the quiet.
Darcy had at least a hundred questions for Ben—about his work, about his cooking, about Savannah—but right now, she was enjoying working beside him to prepare a meal. It was a first for her. Other than her brothers, she had never met a man who enjoyed cooking.
When she noticed him putting the sandwiches together and getting them on the griddle, she turned on the burners for the soup.
“Would you mind if I went and changed before we eat?”
For a minute, Ben didn’t say anything, but his gaze raked over her.
She would need to splash some cold water on her face if he didn’t stop. “Where’s my suitcase?”
“In the guest room at the top of the stairs on your right. There’s a full bathroom up there as well.”
“Oh. Thanks!” she said with a smile. “I’ll be back in a few.”
She didn’t run up the stairs exactly, but Darcy knew she was moving faster than usual. Why? She had no idea. Maybe it was because she was starving and was anxious to get downstairs and eat dinner, or maybe she just needed a few minutes alone away from Ben.
There was a large sitting area at the top of the stairs with a picture window on the far wall that looked out over the property. Something about this house just…it called to her. In her mind, she envisioned a huge Christmas tree in front of that window that you’d be able to see when you pulled up to the house. It would be fun and festive and—
“There are clean towels in the bathroom,” he called up to her, and she snapped out of her holiday trance and remembered she only had a few minutes before their dinner was ready.
Stepping into the bedroom, she smiled.
It wasn’t nearly as magnificent as Ben’s, but his stamp was here too. The bed had to be one that he made, because it was unique. Again, not quite as magnificent as the one he had in his room, but still impressive. All the furniture in the room was in a lighter finish, and there was a rustic chic vibe that Darcy found oddly appealing.
“You can look and touch all of it later,” she reminded herself as she walked over and opened her suitcase. What she needed was to do some laundry. This was supposed to be a short trip, and even though it had been cut even shorter, it would be nice to have options.
Grabbing her toiletry bag, a pair of yoga pants, and a T-shirt, she quickly made her way to the bathroom. The first glimpse of herself almost made her gasp, but she recovered quickly. Her makeup was faded, and her hair was a mess, and she looked more than a little tired.
Awesome.
Stripping off her jeans and top, Darcy quickly swiped on some deodorant before changing into more comfortable clothes. Then she brushed her teeth and put on some lip gloss before contemplating her hair.
The last thing she wanted to do was look like she was trying to make an impression, and Ben had already seen her. With a sigh, she simply finger-combed the dark tresses and called it done.
“Perfect timing,” he said when he spotted her walking down the stairs. “Everything’s ready.”
“Well, damn.”
He looked at her curiously.
“I took longer than I thought. I wanted to help you.”
“Well, you could get the soup into the bowls if that makes you feel better,” he suggested with a grin.
“Done!” Within minutes, Darcy had the table set and drinks poured and was helping him set their sandwiches out. When they sat, she smiled at him. “Thanks. This looks great.”
He shrugged. “Just sandwiches.”
When she took her first bite, she moaned with pleasure—an eyes closed, head thrown back, holy-shit-this-is-fantastic kind of moan. Realizing what she’d done, she quickly straightened and looked at Ben with a sheepish grin. “Sorry. But this is way more than just a sandwich. What did you do to it?”
Chuckling, he took a bite of his sandwich before he answered. “Like I said, it’s just a sandwich.”
“No, no, no,” she corrected him. “This is not your run-of-the-mill grilled cheese. Trust me. I make them a lot. So spill it. What did you do?”
He shook his head and took another bite even as he continued to laugh.
“Come on! You have to tell me!” she begged, laughing with him. Picking up her sandwich, she shook it at him. “This has ruined me for all other grilled cheese sandwiches.” Then she took another bite and did her best to hold in the moan.
Ben took a pull of his beer and studied her. “Fine. Three kinds of cheese—American, pepper jack, and cheddar.” He shrugged. “I probably should have asked you before I put the pepper jack on there—some people don’t like anything spicy—but I love the combination of the three together.”
“And this isn’t ordinary white bread, either,” she observed. “It’s a lot sturdier.”
“It’s sourdough. With all the different cheeses, standard white bread gets a little too soggy. This holds up much better. Plus, I needed to use it up before it went bad,” he added with a wink.
“It’s brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. I never thought of grilled cheese like this. I’m totally going to try this when I get home.”
They ate in silence—normally the sign of a good meal—and by the time she had finished her sandwich and was halfway through her bowl of soup, she was stuffed. Pushing away from the table, Darcy placed a hand on her belly and sighed.
Ben was watching her every move. “Done?”
“I don’t think I could eat another bite. That was amazing. Thank you.”
If she wasn’t mistaken, he was blushing.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he said, his voice a bit gruff.
“And since you did the bulk of the cooking, I’ll clean up,” Darcy said as she rose.
“That’s not necessary.”
“Oh please, you’ve done enough for me today. Just say thank you and let me do this.” In truth, she hated doing the dishes. Always had. She didn’t mind making the mess in the kitchen, but she preferred someone else cleaning up. But what she’d just said was true—Ben had gone above and beyond for her today. And although she had a feeling it had more to do with him trying to impress Savannah, that was no reason for her to be an ungrateful guest.
Damn.
She’d gotten so caught up in his sexy smiles and his incredible talent that she’d almost forgotten about that agenda of his. Well, good thing her brain kicked into gear. While she was stuck here with him, she was going to have to start a campaign to get him to leave Savannah alone. There was no way she was going to let Ben—or anyone—mess with her brother’s marriage.
* * *
One minute, she was laughing and smiling, and the next, it was like someone had flipped a switch, Ben thought.
Darcy had an extremely expressive face, and he knew when her thoughts shifted from doing the dishes to something else. She didn’t say a word, but the irritated glare spoke volumes.
Standing up, Ben picked up his plate and bowl and followed her to the sink.
“I said I’d clean up,” she said, and although it wasn’t said through clenched teeth, there was a definite edge to her voice.
“Well, I can’t help it. I’m used to cleaning up after myself,” he replied.
“Fine. Whatever.”
They worked together, and it took less than ten minutes for the kitchen to look pristine again. He noticed her looking around—for an escape or something to do, he wasn’t sure.
“Would you like to watch TV? I’m sure we can find something that isn’t a weather report,” he joked and noticed she didn’t even attempt to grin. Okay, new tactic. He walked into the living room and simply turned on the television as he sat. “Personally, I enjoy home improvement shows or a good documentary, but I’m open to suggestions. Maybe we can find a movie or something.”
“I think I’m going to head upstairs. It’s been a long day,” Darcy said.
“It’s seven o’clock,” he said, his patience all but gone. Shutting off the TV, he stood and advanced on her, determined to get to the bottom of things.
They were stuck together for at least the next couple of days, and he’d be damned if he was going to put up with her attitude. He didn’t care if he pissed her off or if Savannah would be disappointed in how he was handling this. He was done bending over backward to be nice to this woman.
Darcy’s eyes went as wide as saucers as he got closer, and she reached behind her to grab the newel post.
“Did I say something wrong at dinner?” he demanded and was surprised at how level his tone was.
“No, why?”
He had to fight the eye roll that was threatening. “Have I done something to offend you? And I’m not just talking about today or tonight, but since I met you? Because I have to tell you, this whole attitude you keep throwing my way is getting old.”
Her mouth opened and immediately shut.
So there was something.
“Look, I have been racking my brain for days, and I have no idea what it is that I said or did, but whatever it is, I’m sorry. Can we move on?”
Holiday Spice Page 7
