Once in a Lifetime(13)

A tall figure appeared in the open doorway. Jack. He knocked on the doorjamb twice and then propped it up with a broad shoulder. “Ready?” he asked Ben with all his perfection of timing.

The two of them were meeting Luke for dinner. Ben shook off whatever was going on between him and Aubrey, although it took a surprising amount of effort to do so. “Ready,” he said, and without another word grabbed the sweatshirt he’d left draped over the back of a couch.

“Hey,” Aubrey called after him. “You never answered me.”

“Because I don’t answer to you, Sunshine.” But yeah, he knew he’d work early and late to avoid as much interaction with her as possible.

Jack watched Ben shut the bookstore front door and then check to make sure it was locked. “Huh,” he said.

“Huh what?”

“Nothing,” Jack said.

“It’s something.”

“Okay. You’ve been back a month and you’re already bored?”

Ben shrugged.

“’Cause if you are,” Jack said, “I need help.”

“With what?”

“As fire marshal, I inherited all these pet projects for town council and the like. And in all the monthly meetings, everyone always says they’ll help, but then they don’t answer my calls.”

“What do you need?”

“Everything. There’s the senior center—”

“Pass,” Ben said quickly. “Those old ladies are sexually depraved miscreants.”

“Afraid of Lucille?”

Lucille was a gazillion years old, and there were rumors that she’d been the first person to inhabit Lucky Harbor, around the time of the dinosaur age. She was still in town, running an art gallery and the gossip mill with equal fervor. “Hell, yeah, I’m afraid of her,” Ben said.

“Me, too,” Jack admitted. “Okay, no to the senior center. How about a project at the rec center? It’s called Craft Corner.” He smiled. “Should be right up your alley. You supervise after-school crafts twice a week.”

“Crafts?” Ben asked in disbelief. “Do I look like a crafts kind of guy to you?”

Jack grinned. “You’re a builder at heart, man. Figure it out. The kids really need someone, and you’ve got a lot of knowledge to impart.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And the principal of the school is a really hot, single brunette. How long has it been since you had a hot woman look at you?”

About three minutes… “Maybe,” Ben said noncommittally.

Commercial Row was lined with shops, including the requisite grocery store, post office, and gas station. A few patches of snow and more than a few patches of ice lingered here and there from the last storm. With the dark had come an icy chill that had Ben shoving his hands in his pockets. The temperature tended to drop the moment the sun did.

When Jack spoke next, his voice was void of his usual good humor. “So. Aubrey Wellington? Really? You sure about that?”



“What about her?”

“You know what. She’s trouble with a capital T.”

Yeah, Jack was right. Ben already knew.

“Tell me you got that,” Jack said.

“I got that.”

There was a full minute of silence between them as they continued to walk toward the Love Shack. But then Jack, who’d never been real good at leaving anything alone, said, “There was something in the air between you two.”

“Animosity?” Ben asked.

Jack laughed. “Not exactly.”

“What, then?”

Jack shrugged, but Ben knew this wasn’t necessarily an I-don’t-know shrug. Because Jack knew.

Ben knew, too. But he held his tongue. It was natural for him to do so, and plus, as an added bonus, it drove Jack wild. Jack couldn’t handle silences any more than he could handle leaving things alone.

And sure enough, after another minute, Jack started whistling. He couldn’t whistle worth shit, and he was completely tone-deaf—which meant that hearing him whistle was far better than hearing him sing. But still, Ben wasn’t in the mood for either. Especially since Jack only sang when he was being obnoxious. It was his own special brand of torture.

“Spit it out,” Ben said.

Jack shook his head. “Nothing to spit out.”

Ben looked at him, but Jack went silent. It was a first.

“I’m just working on the bookstore,” Ben finally said.

Jack blew on his hands and shoved them into his front pockets as they continued to walk.

“You know damn well her uncle hired me,” Ben said.

Jack nodded and squared his shoulders against the evening’s wind.

“And we’re not even going to be in the shop at the same time,” Ben said.

Jack snorted.

“Damn it.” Impressed that his own techniques had been used against him—and that it’d worked—Ben caved like a cheap suitcase. “Okay, so there was a weird vibe between us. But it’s nothing.”

“It was way more than nothing,” Jack said. “The two of you practically melted the place down.” He paused. “Do I need to give you the birds-and-the-bees talk?”

At that, Ben had to laugh. “Shut up. I lost my cherry two years before you did.”