Dumbfounded, he dropped his arm. So he was a disruption to her. He was going to have to consider that. Apparently, she was a real woman underneath that icy exterior and not as immune to him as he once thought. He’d also have to consider what exactly he wanted to do with that information.
Tucking all that info away in the back of his mind, he licked his lips and tried again. “Look, Sandra, let me go back in there. You’ll see. I can make it right.” Somehow.
She gazed at him, her eyes no longer hard and accusing. “I don’t know.”
“Those kids like their Big Bens—or at least they did until I sent Herbie to spider heaven. Honest, I think I have a knack with them.”
“A knack, huh? Because you told them to call you Big Bens?”
“Right. On account of my big feet.” He leaned in and grinned. “You know what they say about men with big feet, don’t you?”
Her eyes widened. “Mr. Capshaw—”
“Small gloves,” he quickly finished, wiggling his fingers.
Her mouth shut at his poor attempt at a joke. But then he watched a slow smile escape.
Yes! He did it. Finally. The ice princess smiled.
A small smile, but still by every definition a smile. It was the first time he’d seen her do anything like that since they’d met, and it blew his mind. He didn’t think such a simple, everyday occurrence like that would have such a heart-fibrillating effect on him—but it did.
He couldn’t help but smile back. “Now that I’ve squashed your spider and all, maybe you could call me Ben instead of that Mr. Capshaw thing.”
She seemed to think it over. “Okay, Ben. One more chance. But if you screw up again, that’s it. To be honest, I don’t think you’d better count on that movie role. From what I’ve seen of your way with children, I doubt you’ll get it.”
“Don’t you worry, I’ll get it.”
One of her immaculate eyebrows arched up. “Who else is up for the part?”
“I’m not sure.” By habit he went to stroke his beard, but came up stroking bare skin. “I think Matt Damon and maybe Vin Diesel.”
“Vin Diesel?” Her voice escalated wildly.
He frowned and folded his arms, all the while fantasizing about suddenly going back to Hollywood and punching the lights out of one Vin Diesel. She liked Vin Diesel—a bald man. Go figure. No wonder she’d made such a fuss about his long hair and beard. So sorry to disappoint you, honey.
She turned her attention to the picture of a cartoon dog hanging on the wall and seemed to be studying it like it was a Monet. “Hmm,” she murmured, tapping a pink fingernail against her unpainted lips.
“What, hmm?”
Her gaze fell back on him, and she blinked as though she’d forgotten he was still standing there. Another fatal chop to his ego. This woman could give Paul Bunyan a run for his money. “Oh, nothing,” she said. “It’s just that…well, Vin Diesel is older and has three children of his own.”
“Yeah. What’s your point?” he growled.
She bit her lip, failing to hide a smile. “Doesn’t that mean he has more experience with kids? And doesn’t more experience mean he’s more qualified for the job?”
“Not in Hollywood, honey. I’ll get the part.”
She raised her brows. “I don’t understand. Then why all the research?”
He hesitated, and almost gave her a different answer than the one he was about to give. He wanted to give her the standard answer of just normal character preparation—one that most actors used. But when he saw the unusual openness in her eyes, the truth flew out of his mouth before he could stop it.
“It was my agent’s idea, actually,” he told her. “I’ve been getting offered these roles I can practically do in a coma. I’m bored with it all. There has to be more to what I’m currently doing with my career. I’m not sure what—not more money—but maybe…respect…or a challenge. I figure if I get this movie and ace the part, it could really shake things up for me. You know, maybe even get some recognition from my peers.”
“You mean like an Oscar?”
“Exactly. Believe me, nothing says take me seriously like an Academy Award nod.”
“But you’re already successful.” She shook her head, still looking puzzled. “You’re worried about being taken seriously? Boy, I thought I was the only person who obsessed over things like that.”
He looked at her again, only this time seeing more than just a beautiful face. “Great minds must think alike. But I don’t understand why you’re worried about being taken seriously. I’ve only known you a few days, and I take you extremely seriously.”
She let out another laugh, and he found it encouraging that she could be provoked to do it so easily once her guard was let down. “Thanks so much,” she said wryly, collapsing at her desk. “So far, I’ve only managed to convince you, Carol, and Missy. My ex-husband still thinks this school is a dumb idea.”
“Dumb?” Ben already hated the ex-husband. He could imagine many people thinking what he did for a living was dumb, but never something as good-hearted as teaching small children. “Your ex thinks what you want to do in life is dumb? He sounds like a real piece of work.”
She picked up a pencil and began doodling. “Yeah, well, he had his moments. But it’s not only him. I doubt myself, too, sometimes. I just want this to work out so much…”
Her voice sounded far away even though he was mere inches from her. He nonchalantly glanced down at what she was drawing—just a bunch of triangles and squares. Besides being as fascinated as he was, Ben wondered what Dr. Freud would have thought about her behavior. Miss Sandra was proving to be more and more of an enigma, and he liked her even more because of it.
After several seconds, she set down her pencil and looked up. “Okay, you’ve convinced me. Come on. I have an idea of what we can do for the children.”
His brows shot up. “You mean it? I’m actually forgiven?”
“Yes,” she said, standing, her lips twitching. “But you’re going to have to figure out how to honor the deceased on your own.”
“Great. I can— Wait. The deceased?” Then it dawned on him. “Oh, no. You mean I have to memorialize a spider?”
This time she didn’t bother holding back her smile. “Think of it as honing your ad-libbing skills as well. It’s really the least you could do after all the trouble you’ve caused. So what do you think? Are you up for the job?”
He grinned back, enjoying the challenge of her words as much as the feeling that there was finally a camaraderie growing between them. He couldn’t resist touching her again, so he reached out and laid a hand on her arm and added, “I’m up for anything you have to offer.”
He saw the mistake he and his big mouth made instantly. Her face sobered, the camaraderie disappeared, and the ice shield went back in place. “A spider eulogy is all I’m offering,” she told him, shaking off his hand.
Her tone left little argument, so he bowed his head in understanding and held open the door. With half fascination, half annoyance, he watched her march right past him without so much as a glance back.
Jeez, one tiny little flirtatious remark and the ice princess was back. She wanted to keep things strictly professional. He’d have to be both blind and deaf not to receive that message. Even though she blushed every time he touched her, the woman clearly was not interested in him. He snorted.
Yeah. Right.
And he liked spiders.
Chapter Four
If Sandra wasn’t seeing it with her own eyes, she would have never believed it. Ben Capshaw was actually enjoying himself.
She frowned, not because she was unhappy, but because she was surprised. She hadn’t taken him seriously when he’d said he was up for eulogizing a spider. But standing there in front of the class, he looked like he was having fun. He was doing pretty well, too, laying it on a bit thick for her taste in some parts, but keeping the speech light enough for the children. A very good performance, all in all.
Who knew a man
like that would have it in him to be so…sweet with children?
Ben seemed serious about the character preparation. Maybe she didn’t have to be so hard on him after all. It didn’t mean she wanted him touching her or flirting with her anymore—but maybe he did have a nonselfish bone somewhere in that hard, muscular body of his.
Oh, dear. There she went again. Why did she have to think about his body so often?
She supposed one more peek wouldn’t hurt, so she allowed her eyes to travel over those wide defensive-end shoulders again, across his chest, and down to his—
Ugh. She needed to get out more.
After Ben talked about the good times they had all shared with the spider—that did nothing more than hang out in a terrarium in the back of the room until he got adventurous and escaped—Missy suggested having the class draw pictures of Herbie to hang up. Sandra watched with open amazement as Ben took the papers from Missy, handing them out to the children himself.
Boy, he must have felt bad about squashing Herbie, because it seemed like he was really trying to make up for it by taking a more active part in the class.
She supposed it could have been worse. He could have squashed Toots the hamster instead. That would have been a real mess, not to mention a major health hazard.
Sandra was about to go back to her office—thinking all was as well as could possibly be—until she saw Hannah slide out of her seat and follow Ben as he made his way around the tables.
“Um, ’cuse me,” her daughter said, trying to get his attention. “I have something to tell you.”
Ben paused and looked down. “Oh, no. Nice try. I’m not falling for that again, kid. That’s what got me into trouble in the first place.” With more force than necessary, he tossed a pack of crayons on a desk and moved on to the next student.
“Why didn’t you like the bug?” she asked him.
Sandra quickly covered a laugh with her hand when she saw Ben pale at the question.
“Huh?” he said. “It…it wasn’t that. I liked the bug. I told you, I just thought it looked like something else.”
Sandra rolled her eyes. Yeah, he thought it looked like a big bug.
She knew Hannah had it in her to bombard him with more questions, so she took mercy on his poor, childless celebrity soul. “Hannah, honey, why don’t you sit and draw your picture now? You’re such a good artist. I can’t wait to see it.”
Hannah’s face lit up. “Oh, okay, Mommy,” she said as she jumped back into her seat. “I sure am a good artist.”
When Ben finished handing out the last of the papers, he walked over to her with grateful eyes. “Thanks for the rescue.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “You’re welcome.”
Missy sidled her way over to the back of the class and joined them. “I am so sorry,” she whispered, looking first to Ben then to Sandra. “Everything happened so fast. I was just so shocked when the…incident happened. I didn’t know what to do.”
Ben folded his arms. “You don’t need to tell me that, sister. I figured it out on my own pretty darn fast. Thanks a lot for leaving me hanging.”
“Don’t you blame her,” Sandra interrupted, pointing a finger in his chest. “It’s your fault that—” She looked to see if the children were listening and lowered her voice to make sure they couldn’t. “You got yourself into this situation with those quick reflexes of yours.”
“If that was an intruder instead of a spider,” he whispered heatedly, “you’d be thanking me for those reflexes, and you know it.”
Sandra threw her hands in the air. “Let’s not go through this again. It’s over, okay?”
Ben murmured something but still looked to be in a funk—almost like a kicked little boy. In return, Sandra felt a sudden empathetic tug to her heart. She didn’t know why. However, she did always have a hard time resisting the sulkiness of a child. Apparently, that sympathy now extended to man-children as well.
She licked her lips, hesitating to extend the olive branch. Since Ben had corrected the situation, she supposed they could try to put their differences aside and become friendly. Just not too friendly.
“You did a nice job with the eulogy,” she told him. There. Her job was done. Olive branch extended.
His brow rose slightly. “You think so?”
She gave him a noncommittal shrug.
“Oh, yes,” Missy blurted. “It was so sweet. Just wonderful. I almost started to miss Herbie myself by the end.”
Ben looked confused. “Almost?”
Missy wrinkled her nose. “Well, that thing was pretty gross looking.” She slapped her hand over her mouth and looked to Sandra, full of apology.
“It’s bug month,” Sandra said with a frown. “Do I have to remind you of that, too? We have to show tolerance to bugs, spiders, whatever. That’s how the children will learn to appreciate nature and all things in it.”
“I know,” Missy said, looking contrite. Then her gaze slowly traveled to Ben, and the two broke out in a fit of hysterical laughter.
Sandra cracked a small smile herself but shook her head. Maybe she’d share in their mirth more when their business was a little more stable. Right now, she was too worried about a child telling his or her parents about the spider incident and then having those parents complain to the school. She couldn’t afford for something like that to happen.
“Shh,” she admonished when she noticed Hannah and her friend Sarah approaching with their pictures. “Oh, boy, they look great, girls. Miss Missy will be thrilled to hang them up for you.”
Missy took her cue and valiantly composed herself. Then, with one last flirtatious smile for Ben, she whisked the pictures and children away to the front of the room. Carol chose to peek her head through the door at that moment and, upon zeroing in on Ben, grew two huge hearts in her eyes like a cartoon character.
“My class is outside on the playground with the aide, so I wanted to see what all the commotion was,” Carol explained, walking in with those hearts projected right at Ben. “By the way, I don’t think we’ve met.”
Sandra watched in bemusement as down-to-earth Carol held out her hand like a nineteenth-century debutante.
“My name is Carol. I teach here—when I’m not living all alone with my cat, Toffee,” she added shamelessly.
Ben cast a smug glance toward Sandra before taking Carol’s hand in his own and kissing it. “Lucky cat,” he said with a dazzling smile.
Sandra pointed a finger in her mouth and pretended to gag herself—not that Ben or Carol noticed. Was she the only normal woman in this entire place? Why couldn’t anyone else see through his whole fake, charming-celebrity persona? One thing was certain. Men like him had women all over the country and weren’t to be trusted. Ever.
Tired of standing there being ignored, she snorted. Twice. She still hadn’t managed to get their attention. “Carol, I think you’ve left your class alone for long enough, don’t you?” She tried to keep her tone controlled and not snippy, like she was feeling, but was unsuccessful.
Carol continued to stare at Ben as though she’d been on the Atkins diet for the past year and he was a carbohydrate smorgasbord. “Huh?”
“Earth to Carol,” she said louder, cupping her hands around her mouth. “You have a class waiting.”
Carol blinked and glanced at Sandra, flushing right up to the roots of her dark hair. “Oh. Right. I guess I have to go,” she told Ben. “I look forward to talking with you again.”
Sandra made a face. Talking? Who was doing any talking? They just stared fixedly at one another for what seemed like hours. They should get a room already.
“Good-bye, Carol,” Ben said. “It was very nice meeting you.”
“Yeah. ’Bye, Carol,” Sandra said between clenched teeth.
With the kind of willpower that would make Tony Robbins proud, Carol tore herself away from Ben’s star-studded presence and finally went back to the playground area. As soon as Carol was out of sight, Sandra grabbed Ben by the arm and marched him
out into the hall and away from prying eyes and ears.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded once they were alone.
“What?” he asked, blinking.
“Don’t ‘what?’ me. You were doing specifically what I asked you not to do.”
He scratched his head. “Explain to me what that was again.”
“You were making googly eyes at Carol and Missy.”
“You’re mistaken. They were making googly eyes at me. Get your facts straight.” He turned around and headed back toward the classroom door.
“Well, you certainly didn’t discourage it,” she shot at his retreating back.
He stopped and whipped around, his eyes narrowed tight. “Look, Sandra, the fact is I am a movie star, and women—normal women, that is—gain a certain pleasure from having me around and talking with me. I’m not going to repudiate that. It’s my fan base and how I keep my career going. If you have such a problem with them being distracted at work, maybe you’re talking to the wrong person. Maybe you should be having this conversation with Missy and Carol instead.”
“Fine,” she snapped. “Maybe I will.”
“And while you’re having that conversation, are you going to tell them the truth?”
His question threw her so off guard, her irritation vanished. “What truth?”
He stepped closer, keen and unsmiling. “That you want me as much as I want you.”
Her mouth dropped open, but to her dismay, no angry retort flew out. Damn her feeble mind! It was wiped blank as soon as she saw his eyes gleam, daring her to deny what he’d just said. Tossing aside any chance of verbally defending herself, she went with her next best weapon—ice.
“I beg your pardon?” she asked, jerking her chin up.
He took another step closer and touched her—something she realized with alarm he’d been doing far too much of today—tucking some of her hair behind her ear. The touch was brief, his arm already down at his side, but she still felt the warmth from his finger spread all the way down her Benedict Arnold body.
From Fake to Forever Page 5
