"I can't."
"Why can't you? I just said you'd be doing me a favor—"
"I have no way to get to the store."
"Just use my car. Not a big deal. Or maybe we should go car shopping. I don't like the idea of you being stuck at home with no way of getting around if I'm gone."
Horror filled her eyes, quickly blinked away. "You can't buy me a car."
Ben started to say he really could then realized she'd only argue the point, especially since she was so hung-up on using his money for something as basic as groceries so they both had food to eat. "I was thinking about getting a second car anyway. I'm thinking maybe an SUV. Which I would have no problem with you borrowing to go grocery shopping."
"But I can't!"
"And why not? You can't honestly expect me to believe you'd have a problem just borrowing my car."
"It's not just that."
"Then what is it?"
Natalie pulled her lower lip between her teeth and carefully looked around them. Then she leaned forward, her voice lowered in a whisper.
"I don't drive."
Ben blinked. Shook his head. Blinked again. "Why don't you drive?"
"Because—" She looked around again, like she was afraid someone might overhear her. "I don't know how to drive."
"You don't—?" Ben stared at her. She was joking with him, she had to be. Except no, she wasn't, because embarrassment tinged her cheeks a pale pink. "You really don't know how to drive?"
"No."
The laughter bubbled up from somewhere deep inside him, surprising him. Surprising her, too, apparently, because she crossed her arms in front of her and stared at him through narrowed eyes.
"It's not funny."
"I don't mean—"
"I lived in New York. Nobody drives in New York."
"I know—"
"You can stop laughing at me."
"I'm not—" Ben clamped his lips together and swallowed the last bit of laughter. "I'm sorry. I wasn't laughing at you. It's just—I don't think I actually know anyone who doesn't know how to drive."
The annoyed frown on Natalie's face deepened. She unfolded her arms and leaned forward then jammed one finger into the center of his chest. "Well you do now. You happen to be married to her."
Ben stared down at the finger then up at Natalie, at the way her feathered brows pulled low over deep green eyes that flashed with irritation. He wasn't sure why he did it, didn't understand the sudden urge that overcame him, didn't even try to understand it. He just reached out and wrapped his hand around her wrist and pulled her to him. She gasped and braced her hands against his chest, balancing herself as her head tilted back to look at him. He took advantage of her surprise and claimed her mouth in a kiss that grew longer than the quick one he'd originally planned on giving her.
Ben pulled away before he forgot where they were and lost all control. He grabbed Natalie's hand in one of his and used the other to push the cart. "Come on, wife. Let's go check out then get started on some driving lessons."
Natalie's soft gasp of surprise echoed beside him, only he wasn't sure if it was from his mention of driving lessons—
Or the fact that he had called her wife.
Chapter Sixteen
"How are the driving lessons going?"
Natalie turned in her seat, ready to tell Haley and the other women that the lessons were going great, that what little she remembered from her brief time in driver's ed all those years ago was coming back and that Ben was an excellent instructor. But the mask she was usually so careful about wearing must have slipped and let some of her real emotions show through because Haley tilted her head back and laughed.
"That good, huh?"
Natalie started to shake her head, to say that the lessons really were going well—then stopped. What did it matter if these women knew the truth? She slid down in the seat with a small huff of frustration.
"It's awful. Ben has no patience whatsoever and he always acts like I'm going to hit something." So what if she accidentally backed into that yellow post in the parking lot or ran over the curb a few times? The driving lessons had been his idea, not hers. The only reason she was doing it was because he insisted on teaching her.
The whole thing was ridiculous. She didn't need to know how to drive.
Except she did because nothing was within walking distance, not even the small convenience store. She'd discovered that the hard way, when she had run out of certain feminine products and needed them now. She'd told Ben she was going to the store, only to have him stare at her in amused bewilderment and ask her how she was getting there. His dark brows had shot up in surprise when she told him she was walking. Then he asked her what was so urgent that she felt compelled to walk a few miles through the small flakes that were swirling from the leaden sky.
She stood there, her coat half-on, and stared at him, convinced he was exaggerating the distance. A few miles? No, it had to be an exaggeration. Except it wasn't because he'd marked it out with the fancy odometer of his new SUV when he drove her there—after she had reluctantly told him why she had such an urgent need to go shopping right at that moment. Mortification had gripped her, filling her face with enough heat to melt the swirling snowflakes. The only consolation was that he had been just as embarrassed, which surprised her. She didn't think much could embarrass Ben. Or maybe it didn't, maybe he'd only acted embarrassed so she wouldn't feel bad.
No, he wasn't that good of an actor. Even the tips of his ears had turned red.
That had been almost four weeks ago and they had settled into a routine of sorts during that time. She stayed at the house while he went to practice most mornings. He'd come home, usually in time for lunch, and they'd eat together and just talk. Small talk, mostly. Certainly nothing too deep or earth-shattering. Then he'd take a nap while she read. On Mondays, they went grocery shopping together. Some afternoons, he joined several of his teammates for lunch. They had even gone out to dinner one night with Haley and Zach and Jenny and Tyler. But mostly, they sat around and Ben watched television while she read.
Weekends were more hectic. At least, when the Bombers had a home game like they did tonight. Ben had game-day practice then he'd come home for lunch and a pre-game nap. They'd have dinner—something light for him—then he'd leave for the rink. Sometimes she went with him, always making sure to bring a book so she had something to read while she waited. Other times, Haley or Jenny would pick her up and take her to the game. Afterward, they'd usually go to Mystic's.
Road games were a little different. For the most part, Natalie stayed at home, reading or cleaning or watching television. She'd gotten so bored with it all that she finally dug out her camera and started walking around the secluded neighborhood, taking pictures of the bare trees, a few lonely birds, even the clouds.
And she was still bored. There was absolutely nothing for her to do. The other women worked so she couldn't do anything with them—not that she had any way to meet them unless they picked her up, and she was tired of relying on everyone else. She needed a job, and not just for the money. But again, she had no way of getting anywhere so even a job was out of the question.
She was slowly losing her mind.
And not just from the boredom. Ben was slowly driving her crazy, too. She couldn't read him, had no idea what he was thinking or feeling—about anything. He still hadn't answered her question, hadn't told her why he married her. To be fair, she hadn't asked, probably because part of her was afraid of the answer. It certainly wasn't for physical reasons, of that she was positive—which only added to her frustration.
Sometimes she'd look over and catch him watching her and convince herself that the flare of emotion in his gold-ringed hazel eyes was interest or need. Her breath would hitch in her chest and she'd wait, certain that he'd walk over and scoop her up in his arms and carry her back to the bedroom. His bedroom, not hers, because they still had separate rooms.
But he never did.
They were firmly in the frie
nd-zone. Part of her marveled at that—that the two of them had become friends of a sort during the past month. She would have never expected that they'd have enough in common for friendship. And she would have never expected that she'd feel comfortable around him, not enough to relax and let her guard down. But she did and part of her realized that being friends with Ben really wasn't a bad thing.
Except for the fact that he was her husband.
The way he treated her when they were out with anyone from the team didn't help the confusion swirling through her. He'd hold her hand, or casually drape one arm around her shoulder. Sometimes he'd lean over and steal a quick kiss—or even a not-so-quick kiss. Then he'd pull away, his gaze unreadable as he watched her while she struggled to catch her breath and pretend the kiss hadn't left her yearning for more. And she'd wait, wondering if tonight would be the night. If he'd pull her into his arms when they got home and follow-through with those deep kisses.
But he never did.
There were times she wondered if he was seeing someone else. If maybe he had a girlfriend she didn't know about. Irrational anger would flood her and she would tell herself it wasn't her business. They were married, yes, but in name only. For all she knew, he'd had a girlfriend before they got married and he was still seeing her. After all, why should something as small and inconsequential as a wife get in the way of an existing relationship?
Because she was his wife, dammit. If he didn't want—
A hand waved in front of her face, close enough that she felt cold air fan her skin. Natalie jerked back with a frown, started to bat the hand away when she realized it was Haley.
And the woman was watching her entirely too closely.
"Whose head are you ready to tear off?"
"What?"
"That expression on your face. Whoever it is you want to kill, I'm just glad I'm not in their shoes."
Natalie quickly schooled her face, let her lips curl in a small smile. "You're imagining things."
"Am I?"
She was ready to assure Haley that she was but was saved from saying anything because the game was starting. Had Haley only imagined it? Or had Natalie let the emotion show on her face? She'd become so relaxed and comfortable around these women—especially Haley—that she had stopped worrying about holding so much of herself back from them and just allowed herself to be...herself.
Which was a mistake.
Because if she was letting the wall slip around them, was it also slipping around Ben? Was she allowing him to see glimpses of who she really was? Could he see the yearning for more reflected in her gaze whenever he looked at her? She was afraid of the answer to both of those questions—and she couldn't allow that to happen. The walls she had so carefully constructed over the years were for were protection. Without them, she was vulnerable—and with vulnerability came weakness and with that came hurt. She'd made the mistake of opening herself once already, years ago. Then she had let her guard down, just a little bit, with Brandon—not emotionally, not like that—and that had been an even bigger mistake.
The way she had so foolishly trusted Brandon had left her embarrassed and even a little ashamed but she'd been heart-whole because she hadn't dropped those emotional boundaries she was so careful with. Something told her it wouldn't be that way with Ben.
Maybe it was already too late.
Her gaze drifted to the ice, to the knot of players fighting over the little slab of rubber. She had no trouble finding Ben—he was right there at the edge, that intense gaze of his focused on the action, his last name sewn in big, bold letters above the number 33.
Intent. Steady. Ferocious.
Larger than life?
No, not really. Not like she had started to believe. Not like she had created in her mind. Yes, he'd helped her out of a difficult situation without even realizing it but that didn't mean he was a hero—no matter how much she might want him to be.
She would need to be very, very careful. If she wasn't, it would be entirely too easy to let her heart make the biggest mistake ever in a long line of mistakes.
And if she did that, she might never recover.
Chapter Seventeen
Natalie tried to hold onto that caution for the rest of the night. Through the nail-biting game that the Bombers finally won during a shootout. Through the drive to Mystic's with Haley and Jenny as she listened to the women's excited voices rehashing the game. During the sideways glances she shared with Cara, who didn't understand hockey any more than she did.
But sometime during the nearly hour-long wait at Mystic's, Natalie lost sight of why she needed to be so careful. The women gathered around her were slowly becoming her friends, laughing and joking about the same things she found amusing. About the way the guys took their naps and some of the silly superstitions that they called rituals instead, like how Ben ate the exact same thing before every home game. They shared the same frustrations, like clothes that didn't quite make it into the hamper even though the men could shoot a small slab of rubber around some big guy standing in front of a net from fifty feet away while flying across the ice.
And when those same guys came into the bar an hour later, grinning and laughing like little boys who had just received some kind of medal, Natalie cheered just as loud as everyone else. She didn't understand it, this sudden feeling of belonging. It was as if the last month had been building to this moment and everything just clicked into place.
She was married to a man she hardly knew, for reasons she dared not explain to anyone. A man who had married her for his own reasons that he'd yet to share. She didn't have much in common with the other women here.
Courtney, who had been a young single mother before marrying her adorable son's father—who just happened to be her first love.
Megan, with her colorful shoes and flannel shirts and close friendship with her boyfriend's sister despite the tension between him and Jenny's husband.
Jenny, with her sophisticated style and sharp wit, who was a walking encyclopedia about hockey and had, just tonight, set two men straight about the rules of the game.
Haley, the woman she was closest to despite their outward differences. With her wild hair and sharp tongue and the strength of a survivor, she was a force to be reckoned with.
Savannah, the oldest of the group. Stylish, sophisticated, independent. Engaged to the oldest man on the team and already a mother to his two daughters.
Cara, the newly-married soon-to-be-mom; the quietest of the group, an introvert who was slowly opening up to the others.
No, she didn't have anything in common with them. Would have never sought out their friendship if she had met them anywhere else. Not just because she held herself back and didn't make friends easily, but because she would have never imagined that they shared any common ground.
Looking at them now, at the way their faces lit up when the men walked in, she was afraid they had more in common than she would have ever imagined.
Her eyes found Ben across the room. Tall, broad, with his tie hanging loose around his neck and the top buttons undone on his shirt. His black hair, still damp from his shower, was slicked back off his forehead, the drying ends curling around his ears. The small gash on his left cheek was neatly held together by a butterfly bandage. Seeing it now made her stomach jump, the same way it had when someone's stick had caught him in the face early in the game. But he hadn't stopped playing.
Jenny explained that they never did.
She caught his gaze and her stomach jumped again, for a completely different reason this time. Her chest tightened, squeezing the air from her lungs as he made his way over to her. As he leaned down and brushed his mouth over hers in the barest of kisses.
And suddenly, it wasn't enough. She didn't want just a hint of a kiss. Didn't want what she had come to think of as his show-and-tell affection. She wanted the real thing. Wanted him to kiss her the way he had their one night together. Wanted to hear the sound of his harsh breathing as he struggled to catch his breath. Wanted to f
eel the way his heart beat so loud and heavy and fast beneath his sculpted chest.
Wanted to see the banked flames of desire leap to life in the depths of his gorgeous eyes.
Natalie curled her hand around the loose ends of his tie and pulled him back down. Leaned up and caught his mouth with her own. Held her breath. Waiting. Worried that he'd pull away and give her an odd look.
He stiffened but only for a second. Then his hands were on her face, cupping her cheeks between his callused palms as he took over the kiss. Deepened it. Swept his tongue along the seam of her lips, encouraging her mouth to open for him. He tasted like whiskey and mint. Hot and smoky and sinfully refreshing. Natalie sighed and leaned in closer, ignoring the cheers and whistles being sent their way.
Ben was the one who finally broke the kiss, his deep eyes glazed with the same need that ran through her. He blinked and the need disappeared, replaced by something she couldn't quite read. Surprise, yes, but something else, something that made her wonder if she'd only imagined his strong reaction to the kiss.
He slid one palm along her arm then grabbed the chair next to her and spun it around, straddling it backward even as he leaned closer. "Don't think I'm complaining because I'm not but—what was that for?"
His voice was pitched so low that only she could hear but he may as well have shouted the words for the effect they had on her. Heat filled her face and she started to look away, caught herself at the last second. She lifted her chin the tiniest bit and met his gaze with her own direct one.
"Just part of the show. We're supposed to be newlyweds, remember?"
She'd done her best to keep the irrational hurt from her voice but he must have heard it. Regret shadowed his eyes and he reached for her. "Natalie—"
She shifted her chair, just enough that his hand fell away from her shoulder. To anyone else who happened to be watching, it would look like she was simply listening to the loud conversation between Tyler and Kyle. But Ben caught the message loud and clear, she knew that from his weary sigh. He wasn't the only one—her gaze accidentally met Nathan's and she noticed the thoughtful expression in his eyes and the odd glance he leveled in Ben's direction.
Playing His Part: A York Bombers Hockey Romance (The York Bombers Book 7) Page 12
