Twice in a Lifetime (Love Found)

by Henrick, Ruthie

  The jerk didn’t say a word. No you’re welcome. No later, baby. No take a hike, I’m just not into you. Just stood there with his hands stuffed in his jeans and a dumbass look on his face.

  Even with Reese hovering beside him, Jake kept his eyes on Allie as she dashed through the crowded restaurant, hugging her sweater with her head held high, glorious curls bobbing across her shoulders. Christ, was she crying? His feet had already moved, taken a step to follow her, and he halted in his tracks. What the hell was he doing? He shot a glance at Ben, whose eyes also followed her as she shot through the exit. Good old fashioned lust and something like—oh, Jesus, longing—pouring from his baby blues.

  His buddy was a moron.

  Allie grabbed her purse and sweater and ran. Stumbled her way back through the crowded restaurant, shoved open the door and escaped into the cool night air. She was embarrassed enough - he didn’t get to witness her tears.

  Couldn’t she even recognize when a guy wasn’t interested? God, she was out of practice. Hours of talking, laughing, dancing—it was all for show.

  Crossing the dimly lit parking lot, she wrapped her arms around her stomach, let the salty droplets fall. She was such a fool. There she was with her heart in her throat—probably in her eyes, dammit—and all along Ben was counting the minutes until he could cut her loose.

  She sniffed as she approached her car. Loosened the death grip on her midsection and dug through her purse for a tissue.

  Well, all right then. That settled the matter, even if the hot flash of anger did still simmer. The voice of reason taunted a reminder in the background. She didn’t even want a boyfriend. That’s right. Didn’t have time to date until after graduation, anyway.

  She should have listened to it from the beginning.

  Unlocking her car, she climbed in. It all washed over her—her stupidity, her irritation, her indecision. Irritated, she buckled her seatbelt and decided she’d just forget the whole night, but… She released a pent up sigh. She really did have a good time.

  With a snap of her wrist she turned the key and started the engine. Then slumped back in the idling vehicle. Visions of Ben invaded her musings and she sighed again. Yeah, Adonis in a Henley pullover. And wasn’t it humiliating that his hot looks had her melting like a popsicle on a summer sidewalk. She needed to sit herself down for a stern talking-to if that’s how she acted on a first date.

  No, non-date.

  Even though he was acting, even though thirty days was probably a long-term relationship in his book, Ben made her laugh. She never met anyone she enjoyed so much, but he didn’t even say goodbye. The evening left her overwhelmed, mortified. And now, even with cold, hard sanity again taking charge, bereft.

  His stupid tongue deserted him again. Ben cursed that useless flap of tissue as he sat with his back to the door. He didn’t need words—actually needed only his imagination to remember the feel of her as she pressed against him on the dance floor. The sway of her hips as she strode across the floor in her heels tempted him as no bribe Jake promised ever could. But words, he was certain as he scraped a hand across the back of his head, would have worked better as goodbye than a thick-tongued stare.

  No, she wasn’t the blonde A-lister he was usually attracted to. And wasn’t it odd that the idea didn’t bother him at all. He didn’t even need to see her again. The sight of her was tattooed on his brain. Through oregano and stale beer he could still catch the light scent of her perfume. Through the denim of his jeans he could still feel her as she brushed against him, dancing. No, he didn’t need to see her again, but the persistent tug around his heart told him he would. And soon.

  Pulling from the parking lot, Allie kicked off her heels as she entered traffic. Her head was clearer now, no longer clouded with what she could only assume were pheromones. She was two months shy of graduation and busy with classes, student teaching, and lining up a job for the next school year. All valid excuses—no, reasons—why she didn’t date.

  She always considered there would be time for dating when she was done with the craziness of college. Too many of her girlfriends lost focus on school once a boyfriend was in the picture. No, thank you very much. She was patient. First things first. But the events of the night were stuck in her mind—the four of them talking, laughing, wolfing down pizza. Telling stories on each other like they were all old friends. And like quicksand, the harder she tried to escape them, the more the memories sucked her in.

  Allie dropped her books on the sofa and yelled through the apartment. “Hey, Reese, you cooked? It actually smells good.” The growling of her stomach punctuated the lateness of the hour.

  A quick toss landed her purse on the kitchen counter and she opened the oven. Knowing Reese, it was only marginally edible, but it mostly resembled a bubbling lasagna so she pulled it out anyway. Because her shoes pinched her toes she peeled them off, dropped them near her purse. A scrap of paper in Reese’s neat block writing rested nearby. Reaching out a hand, she –.

  “Ben called yesterday.”

  The palm that slapped against her chest would have knocked the breath from her if she hadn’t just let it all out in a scream.

  Reese had barely cleared the entrance to the kitchen when she threw back her head and laughed. “Jeez, anybody ever tell you, you shriek like a girl?”

  “And I’ll cuss like a sailor if you scare me like that again.” Her heart was ready to jump out of her chest. From the fright—probably.

  And just how long did Reese plan to chortle?

  Holding her midsection with one hand, Reese waved the note with the other. “I forgot to tell you about this. He said he’d call back.”

  “I told you I wasn’t interested. And quit chuckling”

  To her credit, she toned it down to a grin. “That was when you missed his call on Tuesday. Today’s Thursday. I thought maybe you’d reconsidered.” Reese waved a dismissing hand. “You know what they say about absence and the heart and all that.”

  With deliberate motions, Allie shook her head no, and hoped it was true. Her eye caught the flashing green light of the answering machine. “Who called while I was at the library?”

  “Dunno.” In no hurry, Reese pressed the button to check the message. “Maybe it was Jake. I was studying.”

  Ben again. Call you later.

  Reese smirked. “He’s either in love or he wants in your pants.”

  Trust Reese to call a spade a spade. “I told you a blind date was a bad idea.” And yet, laughing blue eyes had invaded her dreams for the past several nights. She dropped into a chair.

  Monday morning she awoke to the insistent clamoring of the telephone. Through bleary eyes she checked the time before dragging the receiver to her ear.

  “It’s six o’clock in the freaking morning. What do you want?”

  “Oh, I’ll hear that raspy voice in my dreams tonight.”

  Like a rocket Allie shot out of bed, untangling herself from the sheet, tripping over her slippers in the dark. She slapped at the switch and the room flooded with light. “Ben?” Oh, God, that loud squeak was not her voice.

  “You’ve been hard to get hold of.”

  Oh, she remembered that voice—low and throaty. Sexy Ben. The mattress caught her when she sat. She was fully awake now. And curious. “How did you get me? You didn’t ask for my number.” And where have you been since Thursday, by the way?

  “From Jake, who got it from Reese.”

  A regular Sherlock Holmes, wasn’t he?

  “Sorry about the weekend. We played a double header in Texas.”

  “Oh?” Did he mention they’d be out of town? Did Reese? With her brain so fuddled, it was all she could think to say. Hopefully he didn’t notice.

  “We got in late last night—early this morning, actually.”

  She opened her mouth, but he cut her off.

  “Let’s do something.”

  “Now? It’s the middle of the night.”

  “Not quite. What’s your schedule?”

&n
bsp; She needed to shower, do her hair, iron a blouse… Stop! Her shoulders slumped as reality set in. “My first class is at nine twenty. Then I have student teaching this afternoon. I don’t get home until after four, but I need to study.” Her schedule was a killer—hence, the no-dating policy. And if she needed another reminder why, here it was.

  “Okay then, get dressed. I’ll pick you up. We’ll have breakfast. You’ve got ten minutes.”

  And the line went dead.

  The phone was heavy in her hand. What just happened? A call. Ben. She replaced the handset. Did she want this? Meet the hot guy for eggs. Maybe she could get him out of her head. She raced for the closet.

  “Oh, hell, why not?”

  With books and notes strewn from one end of the couch to the other Allie groaned beneath the weight a half-finished research paper. With a glass of wine at her lips she let her eyelids drift shut as she sipped. She missed sleep. She missed her girlfriends. She missed… Ben.

  “They’re in Oregon? It’s probably snowing in Oregon, for crying out loud.” And she should kick herself for caring. The remainder of his birthday cake from yesterday mocked her from the kitchen counter. “Do you know I dreamed about him last night? Disgusting!”

  “You say something?” Reese had a mess of her own scattered across the living room floor.

  She pried one reluctant eyelid open. Reese could just wipe that smirk lurking across her lips. “Just muttering.” With a decisive thump she deposited her empty glass on the coffee table. “No, dammit. I’m mad! This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  “What wasn’t?”

  “This is all your fault.”

  Reese continued to shuffle papers, sorting them into piles. “Seriously, if you’re going to blame me for something, it’s only polite to tell me what it is.”

  How could Reese stay so calm when gymnasts were practicing their floor exercises in her stomach? “Him.” She jerked her chin toward the cake plate. “It’s only been two weeks. Well, sixteen days actually, but we’ll call it two weeks to simplify things.”

  “Ah, Ben. Now I understand.”

  “Of course, Ben.” She picked up her empty glass and frowned into it. “We hardly spend any time together—and I should be okay with that—but I feel like something’s clutching at me–” She grabbed a fistful of the shirt covering her chest, “Right here. Just because he’s two states away.” With a sigh she frowned into her glass again, shoved the pile off her lap and pressed to her feet.

  Reese finally looked up. “They’ll be home tomorrow. Bring me back some of that.”

  “Snippets. That’s all the time we have together. Dammit, we barely even have time to grab a coffee.” She reached the kitchen and snatched a clean glass from the shelf, filled it along with her own. Tossed the empty bottle into the recycling. “Oh, excuse me. We also had lunch together, precisely twice.” It was tricky holding up two fingers along with the wine glasses, but she was determined. On tiptoe she navigated her way back through the minefield in the living room. “Sandwiches on the grass.”

  “Better known as a picnic. It’s considered romantic.”

  That smirk was back on Reese’s face again, damn her. She shoved the glass into her hand, then picked her way back to the couch and sank into it. She and Ben spent an afternoon sitting in the sun and talked about nothing—books, movies, professors they both liked—and hated. And they shared a few knee-weakening kisses. Her shoulders drooped. “Yeah, it kind of was.”

  “Again, tomorrow.”

  Her heart skittered so she scowled. “I don’t even want a boyfriend.”

  “That doesn’t seem to matter, now. Does it?”

  No, dammit, it didn’t seem to matter. “But I don’t want a boyfriend.”

  “I say it’s too late, girlfriend. But maybe if you chant it three times and click your sparkly red heels, your wish will come true.”

  With a few good swings, Ben tested the weight of the bat. He’d been hitting well since he got back in the lineup.

  Jake sidled up to the nearby chain link. “You’re up first.”

  “Yeah, I saw.” Members of the team milled around, cutting up before the game. With Jake bent over to tighten his cleats Ben lifted his gaze to scan the stands.

  Jake straightened, bent a knee back and propped his foot against the fence. “They’re here. Sixth row.”

  Ben scowled and spun back around to face the diamond. The opposing team was leaving the field. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

  Jake merely laughed and slapped him on the back. “Keep your head in the game, B.”

  “Fuck you.” He waited until Jake got caught in conversation with the catcher, then turned back and found her. With a textbook open on her lap. His scowl settled into a frown. Why bother coming at all if she wasn’t planning to watch him play?

  With the sun glaring in his eyes, he scanned the rest of the stands, found Vivian sitting beside some stranger. She was hot, always had been. She’d stirred his blood for a while, too. But today there was no leap, no rush—and it pissed him off. He swung his eyes back to Allie, chatting with Reese on the bleacher. His breath quickened. His fingers remembered the feel of her and prickled. He wanted to glide them across her skin again. Find that little mole on the back of her shoulder and run his fingers over it. Run them through her curls and mess them up.

  “Twenty-two now, huh?”

  “Jesus, Jake. Don’t you say hello?”

  “Did. You were a million miles away.”

  No, only as far as the sixth row. “Go away.”

  But Jake merely picked up a bat, spun it like a top on his middle finger. “Heard you had a birthday party last night.

  “No big deal. She baked me a cake.” Chocolate. And he licked frosting from her fingers. Made a wish after she lit the candles, too. Silent, bawdy, and—sigh—unfulfilled.

  She stood over the cake, waving a knife. “Hey Ben, what size piece do you want?”

  He ambled up behind her and drew to a stop. His hands meandered down her sides and didn’t stop until they reached her backside, where they gripped soft curves. “This big is perfect.”

  “She’s waving at you.”

  He turned his back, faced the field before Jake could give him shit for his smug smile. “They’re waving at you, moron.” The opposing team was taking the field again, ready for battle. It was time to get serious.

  Preparing for his at-bat, he shoved a helmet onto his head, over hair that curled along his nape and defied the edge of the hard shell. His biceps bunched as he shifted the bat over his shoulder. He stepped up to the batter’s box and performed the same warm-up ritual he had since high school, stomping his left foot twice, pawing the dirt with his right, a bull preparing to charge. A couple of strong swings and he stepped to the plate, took his stance.

  The pitcher wound up and released the ball. Low in the outside corner, coming fast. His pants snugged against his butt and thighs as he stepped into his swing. There was a loud crack as lumber connected with leather and he skied it, sending the ball flying over the left field fence, mere inches inside the foul pole. Fist pumping, he rounded the bases until he landed firmly on home plate, surrounded by teammates.

  Hair damp, he stepped from the locker room. Allie waited for him, that riot of curls caught up in a stubby ponytail, her tank top neatly tucked into cut-offs. Not his type, but damn, she looked good. Was it because he hadn’t fucked her yet he was all tied up in knots?

  “Reese and I came to watch you play.”

  It was right to settle his arm across her shoulder. Natural. He led her toward her car. “Pretty good game.”

  “Pretty good? You were sensational, Ben.”

  Her enthusiastic smile was good for his ego. Loosened the ropes so he could breathe again. The scent in the air was pure Allie, fresh and sweet. He wanted to kiss her. Needed to taste those heart-shaped lips of hers. Glide his tongue across them until she opened up and he could slide it in and taste the honey inside. Long and slow and deep.

/>   Jake cat-called from across the parking lot.

  And somewhere private.

  It was better he stick to the present, leave his fantasies for… later. He snagged her neck in the crook of his elbow and tugged until she bumped up against him. “Yeah, I did okay. Good thing we won. We needed that one.”

  “You won? Oh, sure. Right. Of course you won.”

  Allie, nervous? Imagine that. And damned if she didn’t turn an interesting shade of pink. Just how far into her blouse did her blush go?

  “You guys were awesome.” She ducked out from under his arm as they approached her car. Her bright hazel eyes skittered between him and the ugly cracked blacktop.

  What would she do if he kissed her—really laid one on her—right here?

  She beeped her car unlocked.

  Would she kiss him back, run her arms around his waist then up and over his shoulders? Lock them around his neck? Sink into him? Jesus, he was hard.

  With a twist of her lush, rosy lips she turned away, reached out to open her car door.

  Fuck it. He yanked her to him, spun her around until her back flattened against the door. And plastered his lips to hers. With her jaw trapped in his shaking palms, he devoured her with his heart pounding in his chest and his ears buzzing with the rush of blood that surged through his system.

  Or maybe that was the cheers going up around them. Stupid jerks.

  He closed his eyes against the brilliant afternoon sunshine, ran his tongue across the seam of her lips to urge her mouth open, and invaded her even as her arms wrapped around his waist. He found his hands loosened from her face and drawn down, down to the curve of her waist and his pulse ratcheted higher. When her arms slid up his chest and over his shoulders there was a groan—his– right before they entwined behind his neck. He shut out the jeering of his teammates and with bold persuasion wrestled her tongue with short jabs, made long sweeps across the smoothness of her teeth.