She answered. Surprise covered her pretty face.
“You missed dinner, and you forgot your menorah.”
The white, cotton, see-through tank top draped across the swell of her breasts and left little to his imagination. With supreme effort, he lifted his gaze past her creamy throat, over her soft pink lips, and to her brandy-colored eyes. He resisted licking his lips.
“Thank you. Would you like to come in?”
****
Rachel led Benjamin into her apartment, berating herself for once again not wearing her robe. But she was in her freaking apartment and didn’t expect guests. Yet, for the second time this evening, Benjamin was at her door, staring at her shirt. Or more likely, what was beneath it.
For someone who couldn’t stand her presence, he showed up often enough.
In the living room, she turned and took the menorah and candles from him. “Mind waiting a sec?” she asked.
She placed the menorah in the window, arranged the candles, and recited the three prayers said on the first night of the holiday. His baritone voice joined hers, sent a shiver down her spine, and added an unexpected intimacy to the ceremony. She waited a minute to collect herself before turning around. The glimmer of the flames always drew her attention, and she took a few extra seconds to admire them. She couldn’t wait for the last night when all nine candles would be lit. She’d turn out her apartment lights and enjoy both the candles and their reflection in her window.
“Thanks. It’s nice celebrating with someone. Come this way.” She led him into the kitchen.
“Mom wanted you to have this,” he said, handing her the plate. “She felt bad you left before dinner.”
Rachel peeked beneath the aluminum foil, and her stomach growled as the aroma of brisket, green beans, and noodle kugel wafted from the plate. “Yum. Please thank her for me.”
She put the plate on the black marble counter. He stood in front of her, looking awkward.
“I wanted to apologize,” he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I was rude, and you were right. You’re a great teacher, nothing “just” about it. I was angry at my mother and took it out on you.”
Leaning against the stainless fridge, Rachel wrapped her arms around her middle. Her galley kitchen was small. Functional for one person, but Benjamin filled the tiny area with his scent, his body, his masculinity. She tried to relax, but every nerve ending pinged as if on high alert. It was like he sucked all the air out of the room and drew attention his way.
The man was intense, in his actions, his manner, and his looks. Standing ramrod straight, he exuded power and control. He directed his laser blue gaze at her, and she swore she’d melt. No one’s eyes could be that blue. His sweater must emphasize their electric color. It stretched tight over his chest and arm muscles, making her want to run her palms across them to see if they were as hard as the man. But he’d spoken and now was silent, as if waiting for an answer. Or, rather, demanding one.
She replayed his words in her mind. Right, he’d apologized. She gave him credit. Only an honorable person did it in the flesh.
“I understand. I didn’t mean to overstep.” Her voice was breathy.
This would never do.
Clearing her throat, she searched for a glass of water. “Would you like one?” she asked.
He shook his head no, and she turned away to drink. Using the break to gain her composure, she placed the glass in the sink, gripped the counter, and counted to three.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
She blinked. Eat. Right. She looked at the plate, then at him. “I’ll eat later.” There was no way she could swallow food in his presence, much less use a knife and fork like a civilized person.
His gaze roamed over her, making her wish for the billionth time she’d remembered her robe. Her skin heated in concert with his gaze, mapping her body in a red flush and increasing her need for water.
“No, eat now.”
His commanding tone made her hackles rise. “I’ll eat when I’m ready.” She stepped toward the doorway, forcing him to retreat. But instead of leaving the kitchen, he stopped and cupped her shoulders. His hands warmed her skin further, and flames licked along her arms. Her mouth opened, and his focus narrowed on it, his pupils dilated. She was parched and licked her lips, but instead of slaking her thirst, it increased the tension zinging between them. She stepped closer. Heat rolled off his body, enveloping her. She sighed.
As if realizing what he did, he swallowed and dropped his hands. The sudden lack of contact made her shiver.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Again.” He ran a hand through his dark hair, messing it further.
He needed a comb. She raised her hand to fix it and stopped. Clenching her hand into a fist, she lowered it.
“I wasn’t trying to force you to eat,” he said. “I meant you shouldn’t worry about me. You’re probably hungry.”
She was, but she wouldn’t admit it. “I’m fine.”
Her stomach rumbled. Traitor.
His gaze dropped to her midsection and for the first time, all evening, smiled. Oy gevalt, had she ever seen him smile before? Could she make him do it again? And had oy gevalt ran through her brain? She was not a Yiddish-using woman, but his smile was apparently Yiddish-worthy. He was driving her crazy.
His mouth stretched, showing white teeth. Not toothpaste-commercial dazzling, but real-man white, those of someone who took care of them but didn’t obsess. Talk about obsessing. She couldn’t stop noticing things about him.
Dimples punched his cheeks. Dimples! The divot in his top lip and the one in his chin, connecting with the two dimples, reminded her of a heart. Hers pounded in her chest. Could he tell? She needed a fan or a seat or a stiff drink. Maybe all three. Blinking, she let out a sigh. His unsettling laser blue stare from moments ago was now slate, and she swore she’d drown in his eyes.
Her hand splayed on her belly, she said a silent prayer of thanks her stomach growled. Now if only she could make him smile again.
He must have thought she was transfixed from hunger. Oh, she hoped he did. Because she’d be mortified if he knew the real reason. He maneuvered past her, grabbed the plate off the counter, and carried it into her dining room. Placing it on the cherry wood table, he held out her chair—held out her chair!—and waited until she sat. When she did, he returned to the kitchen. Drawers opened and closed before he appeared with utensils, a napkin, and the glass she’d forgotten. He sat diagonally from her and pointed to her plate.
“Eat. Please.”
His smile faded a little, but there was still a hint of it around the corners of his lips, and his eyes held a faint glow.
“Only because you said ‘please’,” she said, cutting a piece of brisket and tasting it.
He leaned in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “You’re going to school me on manners?”
She looked at him as she popped a forkful of kugel in her mouth next. His gaze zeroed in on her lips, and she dared to lick them. It was unfair for her to be the only one affected. His eyelids narrowed before he shifted in his seat. She took a sip of water to hide her smile of satisfaction.
“I have an excellent track record when it comes to manners,” she said. “Ask Jessie.”
“Oh, believe me, I hear all about your instructions,” he said. “Ms. Schaecter said this, Ms. Schaecter did that,” he said in a falsetto.
She choked on her water but recovered before he could come to her assistance. She wiped her mouth. “Sounds annoying,” she said. “You’d think you’d make sure to learn those lessons so I don’t have to repeat myself.” She winked at him and his dimples increased.
“Fine,” he said and pushed his seat back. “I give up.” His eyes twinkled. “I’ll let you eat in peace. Thank you again for everything you’ve done for Jessie, and I apologize, again.”
Rachel started to rise, but he waved as he headed to the door. Hand on the knob, he paused before opening it. “Jessie and I are going to the Winter
Village in Bryant Park tomorrow. Care to join us?”
She stopped, food halfway to her mouth, and stared at him. Did he ask her out?
He shifted his stance, the first time she’d seen him look uncomfortable. “I thought Jessie would like the company, but if you’d rather not…”
“I’d love to, thanks.”
“We’ll meet you on the steps of the library at ten sharp.”
He closed the door before she could comment. Ten sharp? What would happen if she were late?
****
Jessie ran around the male stone lion guarding the majestic entrance to the New York Public Library. To be more specific, she ran in a “U.”
“Daddy, look at the big wreath around its neck!”
Benjamin was more concerned with looking for Rachel, but he nodded at his daughter before glancing over his shoulder and scanning Fifth Avenue. It was ten-oh-one. Where was she? He stuffed his leather-gloved hands in his jacket pockets and stamped his feet to keep the blood circulating. The biting wind and icy pavement chilled him. The shadow of the white marble structure prevented most of the sun from warming him. He looked at his watch for the millionth time. Two minutes later, finally, a flash of red hair wove its way through the city sidewalk, crowded with shoppers, tourists, and gawkers.
Her cheeks and nose were rosy, and joy rolled off her. People she passed smiled, which made him do a double-take. No one in New York City smiled at passersby. Except, apparently, when the passerby was Rachel. The knot between his shoulders loosened a fraction. He descended the stairs as she approached. When she directed her smile at him, he forced himself not to stagger.
“Where were you?” He winced at his harsh tone, a poor attempt to cover his discomfort.
Her smile dimmed. She straightened and shook her hair over her shoulder. “Hi, Jessie! Benjamin.”
Did she ignore his question? Annoyance flared, but he banked it. He’d been brusque. Maybe rude.
“Ms. Schaecter! You came!”
Rachel knelt and hugged Jessie. “Of course I did. I said I’d be here.” She made eye contact with him, and he nodded. She was only a few minutes late.
“I got here as soon as I could, baby doll,” Rachel said. “The trains were packed.”
Baby doll? The memory of her cradling his daughter on the fire escape returned, and he relaxed. The city was overrun with tourists for the holiday season.
“I’m glad you made it,” he said as she rose and took Jessie’s hand.
She smiled and the last of his dismal mood disappeared.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Lead on,” she said.
He walked with them around the other side of the library and entered Bryant Park, where the Winter Village was set up. Pop-up stores—or booths—lined the pathways. Christmas decorations festooned the trees and grassy areas. Lights twinkled, green wreaths with red bows hung everywhere and Christmas music played in the background. The aromas of fried foods and sweets wafted through the air. Shoppers crowded the path, rambling around. He watched a couple herd three kids who all pulled in different directions. How did parents with more than one child do it?
“Let’s start on this side and work our way around,” he said. Order amongst the chaos. That was key.
“Oh, Daddy, look!” Jessie pointed to a well-lit booth with shelves along the walls filled with colorful glass figurines, and a man sitting behind a counter stuffed with more glass items. Jessie dragged Rachel with her toward the shop. It wasn’t in the straight line he’d planned. It meant abandoning his method to conquer the Village. Rachel peeked over her shoulder at him as she raced with Jessie, one eyebrow raised, as if she dared him to argue. And suddenly, he didn’t care. He jogged after them. His daughter was happy. He was with a beautiful woman. For once, he was determined to enjoy himself, come what may.
He maneuvered around tourists carrying shopping bags and arrived at the store Jessie exclaimed over. His daughter and Rachel oohed and ahhed over miniature rainbow-colored animals made of glass. There were even dreidels, and he considered buying one for his mother.
“Look at the unicorn,” Jessie cried as he leaned over her shoulder.
“Wow,” he said. He picked it up—its body an opalescent white, its horn, tail, and mane bright rainbow colors—looked at the price and whistled. “One hundred dollars is kind of expensive. But it’s pretty.”
The longhaired man behind the counter offered a holiday discount, but Benjamin shook his head. A mustang, mid-stride, caught his eye. Its fiery mane reminded him of Rachel’s hair. The proud tilt of its neck made him think of her attitude.
“Look at this one, Jessie,” Rachel said, pointing to a yellow cat curled on a blue and green rug.
“Oh, it’s cute!”
Rachel stood and took a step back.
“Are you going to buy it?” Benjamin asked.
“No, I thought it was sweet, and I tried to distract her.”
“Ms. Schaecter, look at this one!”
Benjamin joined Rachel as she looked at the glass flower Jessie admired. “It’s beautiful, Jessie,” she said. “Look how delicate the petals are!”
Jessie brushed the fragile pink petals with the tip of her finger. The curled green stem and the leaves resembled spider webs, they were so fine. The artist was gifted. Benjamin put his arm around Jessie.
“Let’s keep looking,” he said.
They meandered along, stopping to listen to carolers singing and hitting whichever shop struck someone’s fancy. Nestled next to a booth selling ornaments was one advertising homemade donuts. In addition to chocolate glazed, cinnamon and sugar, were sufganiyot—sugar-sprinkled donuts filled with jelly, the kind typically eaten at Hanukkah. The smell made his mouth water.
“Oh, I love donuts,” Rachel said.
Benjamin paused. “Do you want to stop?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s okay.” She let Jessie pull her along and Benjamin followed.
He was afraid of missing something important and scanned the booths they skipped, trying to decide what they should see. But as they continued on their unorganized, spontaneous path, his body relaxed. He listened to Jessie’s excited chatter and Rachel’s beautiful laugh and caught their excitement. The oily smell of fried chicken wafted in the cold air and made him hungry. The sun glinted off Rachel’s hair, reminding him of the fiery mustang’s mane in the first booth they’d visited. He wondered if her hair was as soft and silky as he imagined.
He walked next to Rachel as Jessie raced ahead, discontent with their slower pace. His hand brushed against hers, and he glanced sideways. Did she feel the same jolt of electricity zing up her arm as he did? Her cheeks flushed, but maybe it was from the cold. He put a little more distance between them. She stepped closer.
“I love her excitement,” Rachel said.
“She’s having a great time.”
“I hope you are as well,” Rachel said. “Thanks for the invitation.”
“I am. I enjoy seeing Jessie happy.”
They stood on the path outside the toyshop decorated with both Christmas and Hanukkah decorations while Jessie entered. “What makes you happy,” Rachel asked.
“I said, watching Jessie—”
She touched his arm. “—No, what makes you, yourself, not you as a dad, happy?”
He paused, looking at her hand on his arm. It had been a long time since he’d thought about his own happiness, longer since an adult asked about it. Maybe his mother asked, but her personal questions usually annoyed him, and he headed them off as much as possible. Especially because unasked for advice often followed them. But somehow, Rachel’s voice—throaty and gentle—made him dare to think about an answer.
Lauren had made him happy. But in the three years since she’d died? Jessie, but it was a “dad” answer, and he was supposed to give a different kind.
“Come on, it can’t be too hard,” she said. “Music, art, sports, food…”
She took a step closer. The distance between them narrowe
d.
“Photography. I like taking pictures.”
“Of what?”
He grabbed his phone. “I’ll admit I take a lot of pictures of Jessie.” He opened his photo app and scrolled through. “I guess I like portraits the best. But other things as well.”
He handed her his phone and waited as she scrolled. Surprise, admiration, and joy showed on her face and for the first time, pride filled him. His chest expanded.
“I love them,” she said, handing him the phone. “Especially the ones of city life, I guess you’d call them? Of course, the ones of Jessie are adorable, too.”
He held the phone and flipped on the camera. “May I?” It had been years since he’d wanted to take a photo of another adult. Excitement, and a little hope, rushed through him.
Rachel stuffed her hands in her pockets and nodded. He positioned the phone and tapped the camera button.
“May I see?” she asked.
She stepped closer, their shoulders touching, as he displayed the photo. She nodded. Their breath mingled. What would she do if he kissed her?
Taking a step back, he put the phone away. “How about you?” he asked. “What makes you happy?”
They followed Jessie along the walkway, past a stall selling gingerbread, before they stopped at a shish kebab stand. They ordered one steak, one chicken, and one lamb kebab, as well as drinks, and sat at a nearby table to eat their lunch.
“Me? I like kids. They make me happy.” A wistful look played about her mouth as she looked at Jessie.
“Good thing, since you teach kindergarten. Seriously, though, you’re fantastic with them. You’re a natural. You’ll make a great mom someday.”
She turned and stuffed her hands in her coat pockets. “Actually, I’m considering fostering one.”
Chapter Three
Inside her pockets, Rachel balled her hands into fists. Her nails dug into her palms. What made her confess her secret to Benjamin? She hadn’t told anyone other than Kate about her plans. With Mark out of the picture, she was free to start the process. But she didn’t know how it would turn out and while she wasn’t a “planning” person, with this goal, she didn’t want to discuss it until she was well on her way to being a foster parent. Besides, there was her job to consider and all the arrangements necessary with taking leave. She’d need a miracle for everything to fall into place, and she didn’t want to advertise it until she was further along in the process. But walking with Benjamin, watching him loosen up and feeling more comfortable with him made her slip.
Waiting for a Miracle Page 3
