A Mess of a Man (Cruel & Beautiful #2)(13)

“Doesn’t matter. Thinking about you and all your shenanigans creeps me out. You can’t imagine the earful I got from Karen.”

Cate perks up. “Oh, do tell.”

“You wouldn’t believe.” Jenna tells her a story that could only come from Karen’s deluded ideas about us. I listen as she leaves out the cancer part which only makes me sound like a bigger ass. However, I allow my sister to make jokes at my expense because it makes Cate laugh. And I feel like I’m doing right by Drew when she smiles.

“The Money Man is a Man Whore. Ben, you really need to settle down,” Cate says, patting my arm.

Jenna, on the Ben’s-a-bad-boy train, continues on. “Maybe we should shorten that to Money Man Whore. It’s got a ring to it.”

The girls continue on in a fit of laughter.

By the time I get home, Dad’s gone. I pour myself a drink while glancing at my phone, considering making a call so I can lose myself in *. But as I scroll, Samantha’s name glares at me.

My finger hovers over the screen. I have a way with words, or so I’ve been told. I could possibly get her over to my house. Who knows, I could even get her out of her clothes and see what she’s rocking underneath, which is exactly what I need.

But there is something about her. And it’s clear she isn’t one-night stand material. That should scare me off, especially since I just pissed off Karen enough that she thought she was the one leaving me.

Fuck, I mutter, mentally swiping left over the pictures of the women I could call. Only Samantha’s face continues to pop in my head and my dick jerks. Fuck me.

I pour myself another three fingers. It’s Saturday night and I can’t remember the last time I spent one alone. Normally, I would be balls deep in a willing woman. Instead, I’m suddenly not interested in any * that doesn’t have Samantha’s name on it, which feels like some middle school shit.

By the next day, I decide I need to get her out of my head. I have my regular Sunday dinner plans later with the family, but I have nothing going on until then. And I find myself pulling out my phone hoping I’m not making a mistake.

When she answers, my dick leaps to life.

“Hey Samantha, it’s Ben.”

“Oh, hey, Ben. How are you?”

I want to ride you like a bull doesn’t seem like the perfect response.

“I wondered what you were doing for lunch?”

She’s quiet and I hope to hell she doesn’t tell me she’s got plans with some other guy.

“Um—”

“I’m headed to Husk and maybe you’ll have pity on me and not let me eat alone. I know we said tomorrow night, but why wait?”

The well-known restaurant is centrally located downtown in a historic building. Her pause is long and I feel thirteen again, desperate to see a girl. Monday is a bust since I was going to break our date, and besides, I want to see her sooner.

“Sure, that sounds great. When should I meet you?”

“Is one o’clock good? I can pick you up if you like.”

“No, it’s not far from me. I can meet you.”

“Great, I’ll see you there.”

After I hang up the phone, I realize something about this woman throws me off my game. I want her in my bed, yes. But she’s different. I have a feeling my winning smile and usual lines won’t work with her.

I find myself at a shop literally smelling the roses and have no idea what possessed me to come here. I’ve only ever bought flowers for my mother except when I was in high school and thought I was in love with a girl who led me around by my balls. After that failed relationship, I learned not to be a * if I wanted *. That girl chose a f*cktard over me, some guy who treated her like dirt. That was my first lesson I needed in Nice Guys Always Lose. Case in point as my phone buzzes again with another incoming text from Karen. I hit ignore when a sales clerk comes over.

“Can I help you?”

I explain my dilemma to the cute woman who makes sure I get a view of her cleavage. I have to give it to her for figuring out my weakness. Too bad the only tits I have on my brain belong to Samantha. Eventually, I walk out empty-handed. The flirty clerk said that most girls would be put off by flowers on a first date. My head circles back to girls wanting a jackass over a good guy. And the sales woman has just confirmed it.

My wait isn’t long before Samantha walks up prettier than a picture and I have to swallow. There is just something about her. She’s blissfully unaware that every guy she passes, young or old, checks her out. I want to tie her to my bedpost and have my way with her. But I hesitate because she carries herself like a lady. All of a sudden, I have this urge to open doors for her and drape my coat over a puddle so she doesn’t have to step in it. And what the hell? Am I * whipped before I even dip my stick in her?

“Ben,” she says, as a beautiful blossom of roses covers her cheeks.

I’ll be damned. I should walk away right now because I’m not that guy who deserves a woman like her.

“Samantha,” I say, taking her hand and needing a reason for touching her. I kiss her delicate knuckles enjoying her subtle scent.

“Aren’t you the picture of charm? Hmm, that makes two times you’ve kissed my hand.”

“I try,” I say, not letting go of her as we walk inside.

I give the hostess my name and we are led into a narrow dining room to a table for four. The extra place settings are removed while I hold out Samantha’s chair. My mother would kill me if I didn’t use etiquette at all times.