Beauty and the Boss (Modern Fairytales #1)(27)

They fell into companionable silence as they ate. By the time they finished, he felt a hundred pounds heavier, but more satisfied than a college kid after a night in a strip club. If someone had told him he’d eat Wendy’s on a date with his fiancée, he’d have laughed till he fell over.

Yet, here he was.

“Thanks for the dinner,” he said, wiping his hands off with a napkin.

She did the same, grinning. “You’re welcome.”

So. First tip? She liked Wendy’s. Not expensive restaurants. “Now that we’ve stuffed ourselves…” Looking outside, he tried to figure out where they were. They were approaching Penn Station, heading down Eighth Avenue. “What’s next?”

“This.” She handed him a beer. His mother had always said it was a poor man’s drink, and he was never to be seen with one in his hand. He didn’t agree, but he also refused to give her yet another thing to bitch about. “Drink up.”

He tightened his hold, remembering how much he’d enjoyed beer, once upon a time. “Where did you find out about this?”

“That you drink the best wines and whiskeys in public, but truly prefer a twenty-bucks-a-case bottle of beer?” She lifted hers to her lips. “Oh, I have my ways, Benjamin.”

He studied her, lifting his own beer to his mouth to take a swig. It meshed well with the Wendy’s he’d just eaten. He’d asked her to show him what she liked in a date, and instead of taking him to some pottery exhibit or boring art exhibit—she was giving him everything he liked instead. It didn’t make any sense. Why would she do that?

Why would she care?

Lost in thought, he swished the beer in his mouth before swallowing. “Let me guess.” He swirled the amber liquid in the bottle. “Our destination is a place that most people wouldn’t suspect I like to go to, but you somehow discovered it.”

Her lips twitched, and he saw those blue flecks in her eyes that he’d come to crave more than anything else. “Fine. I’ll tell you. We’re going to the Rangers game.”

Jesus. She’d done her homework, all right. If he wasn’t aware it was what she did for a living, it might’ve creeped him out. He understood now why she’d been upset at his botched attempt at a date Saturday night. It was painfully clear that she’d put a shitload of thought into this outing, into the things he’d like, and all he’d done was take her on his generic first date—and he’d assumed she’d be just as lost in his charm as other woman always had been. Maggie was a special kind of woman.

The kind who cared more about his fun than hers.

He swallowed hard, shame churning in his gut. “Let me guess. You found out because you’re just that good?”

“Nah. That one was easy to figure out all on my own,” she said, laughing. “You have a puck on the corner of your desk.”

And that made him feel even worse. She was so much better at this than he was. He was used to skating through life without a care, getting what he wanted from people with a snap of his fingers, and he’d dared to treat her like the rest of the people in his life.

He wouldn’t make that mistake again.



A few hours later, in the last seconds of the game, Benjamin shot to his feet, a beer clasped precariously in his left hand. The opposing team had slammed a Ranger into the wall, and a fight broke out. “Get the piece of shit!” he shouted, laughing when the Ranger knocked the other guy to his ass. “Fuck yeah!” As soon as the words left his lips, he looked at Maggie. “Sorry. So sorry.”

She laughed. When she was chilly and rosy, she had freckles that danced across her nose and cheeks. “You can shout curses in front of me. I won’t faint.”

People started clearing out of the arena, but he didn’t move. Neither did she. Truth be told, he didn’t want the night to end. It had been…fun. So much f*cking fun it was almost like a dream. Like he’d fallen asleep at his desk and would soon wake up with his head resting on a stack of reports, instead of having Maggie at his side.

If that was the case, he didn’t want to wake up. He wanted to stay where he was.

He enjoyed hanging out with Maggie, and if they got up, it would be over. She’d go home, and he’d go home, and he’d be alone in his apartment, like always.

Funny. That didn’t sound as appealing as it had a week ago.

“But still.” He sat back down, his knee brushing against hers. He clenched his jaw. All night long, those accidental touches had been killing him, and she suffered, too. He saw the tension in her growing with each soft touch. He felt it, too. “It’s a respect thing. Gentlemen shouldn’t curse in front of ladies.”

She snorted. “Lucky for you I’m not a lady. I’m just me.”

“Ah, but I disagree.” He turned Maggie’s way, and those gray eyes of hers were glowing with so much life. And, damn it, he wanted to feel that way, too. To remember what it felt like when he’d been…well, himself. “You’re more of a lady, and more deserving of respect, than anyone else I’ve ever met. You’re amazing Maggie, and don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.”

She swallowed hard and shifted closer to him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He glanced away, before he did the unthinkable and touched her cheek, or gave up resisting, broke the rules, and kissed her. The worst part was he could see the matching desire burning in her eyes, but she refused to give in. “And I’m sorry for my outburst.”