Page 58 of Only You and Me

Fuck yes! I couldn’t be happier that Trina didn’t invite them and didn’t agree to go out with him again.

“Me, worry? I don’t know what you’re talk?—”

“Benjamin Ryan. You can fool many people, but you can never fool your mother. I know how you feel—how you’ve always felt—about that girl. I don’t know the details of why you two broke up all those years ago and what about it made her not speak to you for years, but she’s talking to you now, and there’s something in her eyes when I mention you. Something similar to the look in your eyes when she’s come up in conversation over the years. So, I know you were worried, but you don’t have any competition from Darren. Now, I’ve got to go. Your dad is taking me out for dinner. I love you, honey.”

“I love you, too, Mom. And… thank you.”

* * *

TRINA

When I open the door to my house and smell the absolutely amazing odors filling the space, I’m pleasantly surprised. I place my tote bags on the foyer table and walk to the kitchen, carrying the pie I bought for dessert.

As I enter the kitchen, I’m treated to a different sweet treat when Ben is squatting to check on something in the oven. Jesus, the muscles in the man’s calves and backs of his thighs are a sight to see. I’m almost disappointed when he stands, places the glass baking dish on the oven, and turns around to face me. Almost, but not quite, because while Ben’s sculpted ass and legs are yummy to look at, his smile has always been what gets me. Right now, he’s grinning like it’s his job.

I hold up the pie, then move to the counter and set it down. “My contribution to dinner, which smells mouth-watering, by the way.”

“Key Lime?” he asks.

“Nope. Peach, since it’s your favorite.”

His eyes widen in surprise.“You remember peach is my favorite? Even though when we went to that restaurant a few weeks ago, I got Boston creme pie?”

I shrug. “You’re not the only one who remembers stuff.” I glance down at his apron and can’t stop myself from laughing. “Really? The man who says he hasn’t kissed another woman in almost a decade has a ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron?” I cock my head to the side.

“Well, my old one was plain gray. This is new.”

“Yeah?”

“Yup. Bought it today. Hoping to send subliminal messages to you.” He winks at me and the right side of his mouth lifts in a flirty smile that warms my heart—and other parts of me. “We’ve got”—he glances at the timer on the oven—“ten more minutes until the food is done. How about it?” He points to his apron.

I roll my eyes at him and take the couple of quick steps to where he’s standing, lift onto the balls of my feet, and give him a chaste peck on the lips. When I go to step back, he swoops in and wraps a hand around my waist, pulling me to him as a dramatic pout spreads across his face.

“That’s all you got? Just a teaser kiss?”

I smirk. “It’s no fun when you want more and the other person holds out, is it?” Unable to resist, I slip my hands under the sides of his shirt and wrap them around his waist.

“Is this about last night? You can’t possibly think I didn’t want more. Fuck, did I—actually do I—want more. But I’m trying to be respectful, and I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.” He takes his hand that isn’t around my waist and runs it down the side of my head, stroking my hair with his long fingers, and resting his hand on the side of my neck.

I swallow the lump in my throat, wondering if he can tell how much his words affect me.

“While that’s very chivalrous of you, I’m a big girl and I know what I want. Plus,”—I lift my eyes to his, so I don’t miss his reaction—“it’s hardly realistic not to make sure we’re physically compatible if we’re going to stay married for at least sixty days to give this a chance.”

Ben’s face lights up and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen such a wide smile on his handsome face or such a glimmer in his eyes. My heart races in my chest as I wait for him to say something.

“Yeah?” he asks, and I nod. “You decided. When? Last night?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Laughter erupts from me at that. “Last night was great, but I’m not so fickle that I let a good orgasm make major decisions for me. I?—”

“Just good? It seemed a hell of a lot more than good the way you were grinding on my face.”

I pinch what little skin I can grasp from his trim side, and he yelps and pulls away from my hand.

“That’s what you get. No, not last night and not because of last night. I actually decided before the events in the kitchen, while we were out for pizza.”

Ben’s face contorts in a frown, and his eyebrows move closer together in confusion. “A pizza date convinced you?”

“Not the date itself.” My face heats and I’m sure I’m blushing. I’m not good at this emotional stuff. “When I realized how much you paid attention and remembered things I like, even after all these years. It made me feel… seen, I guess.”

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