Page 59 of Resisting Fate
“Hmm…well, he is really hot with that beard.” She lifted a hand at his scowl. “And I say that objectively. It’s simply a fact most women would agree on. I’ll refrain from listing the rest of his hot features, but, trust me, he’s got ’em. Maybe she finds that intimidating.”
Ben pursed his lips. “That fucking beard. I told him to shave it. Hipster wannabe.”
“He doesn’t have sexy dimples to show off like you.”
He rubbed his stubbled jaw. “You like that?”
She smiled. “Yeah, I do.”
“My grandmother says they make me look like a cutie patootie.”
She burst out laughing.
“Of course, that’s just when she wants to butter me up,” he added, which made her laugh more. “Alright, that’s enough. Geez, pull yourself together.”
Luckily, the samosas arrived and she was able to calm down again.
Ben lifted one. “Now tell me something about Missy, or the samosa gets it.”
“The samosa gets it.”
He took a bite. “No sympathy for the plight of this fried bit of heaven, eh?”
She took a bite and chewed. “I’m not sure what you want to know.”
“Anything. It’s like pulling teeth with you.”
“Okay, okay, my favorite color is green, I don’t like sweets except cherry vanilla ice cream, I love snow, and my absolute favorite movie isThe Terminator.”
His brows scrunched together. “You like guy movies?”
“There’s no such thing as a guy movie or a girl movie. It’s just a movie and I like it.”
“That’s not really your favorite. You’re just saying that because you’re with me. You probably tell your friends you like a chick flick.”
“It really is!”
“Why?” he asked, his voice full of challenge.
“Because she’s a total badass doing everything she can to save her son,” she fired back.
He gazed at her with deep affection before finally saying, “Thank you.”
She looked away, embarrassed for some reason. “No big,” she muttered, taking another bite of samosa.
Ben must’ve sensed her discomfort because he didn’t press for any more information, instead making her laugh with stories of growing up with the Campbells and the other guys who’d been taken under Mr. Campbell’s wing for one reason or another. Her favorite story was when a hulking teen-aged Marcus took in a tiny white kitten he called Bitty Kitty, hiding it in his jacket pocket, trying hard to cover up the occasional meow by fake sneezing. She could just imagine Marcus with a kitten in his big paw. The best part of the story, though, was Ben helping Marcus out by bringing the kitten to Ben’s grandmother, promising Marcus full visitation rights. Marcus couldn’t keep the kitten at his apartment since they weren’t allowed to have pets. Apparently, Marcus had visited Ben’s grandmother for years, bonding over their shared love for Bitty. It spoke to Ben’s deeply compassionate nature, even as a teenager, that he stepped in to help Marcus find a way to keep his kitten.
After dinner, Ben drove her home, both of them quiet. The radio was on, soft Christmas carols playing in the background. Full and content, she never wanted the night to end. He’d shared quite a bit of his life growing up, and it made her feel close to him.
“I grew up in California,” she blurted in an attempt to share like he had.
He glanced at her. “Okay,” he said slowly.
“That’s why I love snow. It’s still new for me, and it feels like a miracle every time. Soft magic falling from the sky, making everything shiny and new.”
“Never thought about it quite like that. It was great as a kid, especially getting the day off school. Now it’s just there, something to shovel and clear.”
“You’re lucky you grew up with it. You probably got to go sledding, make a snowman, have snowball fights.”
