Once in a Lifetime(48)

Ben held up a finger, and she stopped talking. “Whatever you want,” he repeated.

“Any of it?” she asked in awe.

“All of it, if that’s what you want.”

The little girl said “Wow” again and very carefully surveyed the displays. “We gotta be sure to get something that won’t spill on the car seats you got for us.”

“They’re borrowed,” Ben said. “And they can be washed.”

Aubrey stood behind the counter, ostensibly waiting for the kid to make a choice, but really watching Ben with the girls. He wore dark jeans, an untucked button-down shirt, and work boots. His hair was just a little tousled, either from his fingers or the wind, and he looked like a rock star. A really sexy one. He was relaxed, hands in pockets, head tilted down, listening politely to the girls’ chatter.

Or the girl. Singular. Because only one of them talked—the one all in pink. She pointed to the cookie section. “Can we pretty please each have one of those big fat chocolate chip cookies?” she asked Aubrey.

“Of course.” Aubrey handed one to each twin. The one in pink smiled and said, “Thanks.” Her twin didn’t smile; she just stared at Aubrey, eyes large and red-rimmed and shimmering, the bruise standing out starkly against her pale skin.

“She says thanks, too,” the one in pink said, and hugged her twin.

Her twin nodded and solemnly took a bite of her cookie.

Aubrey gestured to the girl’s eye, wondering what had happened to her. “Looks like it hurts.”

She nodded again.

“Someone got her with an elbow on the playground,” her twin said. “It was mean.”

Aubrey’s heart squeezed. “Wait here.” She ran through the bakery kitchen, past her two startled friends, out the back door, into her bookstore, and to the freezer, where she grabbed her second bag of peas. When she dashed back to the bakery and handed it to the little girl for her eye, Ben smiled.

“Thanks,” he said. “Have Leah add the cookies to my tab.” He dropped a five into the tip jar. He turned the girls to the door, and then they were gone.

Aubrey was still standing there, staring at the closed door, when Ali and Leah flanked her.

“Isn’t he adorable?” Ali asked.

Ben was a lot of things, but Aubrey was pretty sure adorable wasn’t one of them.





Chapter 18



With a week and a half left until her grand-opening party, Aubrey stood in the crap-food aisle of the grocery store, trying to decide between cool ranch and salt-and-vinegar potato chips. It was an important decision, and one she took very seriously. Whichever flavor she picked would be keeping her company through tonight’s TV session. She went back and forth for a ridiculously long moment before deciding the hell with it and tossing both in her cart. That’s when she saw the barbecue-flavored chips as well. Damn. She wasn’t supposed to be able to choose between them all, was she? She was reaching for a third bag when she heard her name.

Turning, she came face-to-face with Pastor Mike, smiling his easy smile.

She quickly backed away from the barbecue chips and briefly wished she had fruit and vegetables in her cart. Which was silly. Pastor Mike was a man, not God. He didn’t care how many bags of potato chips she consumed. And probably God didn’t care, either. Still, she moved to stand in front of the cart so he couldn’t get a good look at its contents, which so far consisted of Advil and the chips.

“How are you?” Pastor Mike asked.

“Great.” She wanted that third bag of chips.

Pastor Mike smiled. “Is that why you’re chip-loading? Because you’re great?”

She sighed and glanced at her cart. “Saw that, did you?”

He smiled. “I love those salt-and-vinegar chips.”

“Yeah, me, too.”

“So,” he said in that calm voice. “How are you really?”

“Well, as you can clearly see, I just loaded about ten thousand calories of chips into my cart, so…” She shrugged.

“I’ve been hoping you’d come to another meeting.”

“Oh, I don’t think—”

“There’s one tonight.” He flashed a charming smile. “Better for you than chip therapy.”



“Is there anything better than chip therapy?”

“No,” he admitted. “But this would be really close. We’d love to see you there. It’s at eight thirty.”

Well, hell. “Maybe.” She paused. “And thanks. You’ve been so kind—and helpful, too.”

He cocked his head, eyes curious. “I haven’t done anything.”

She thought about the list and how she was working her way down it. And how, in spite of having about a fifty-percent success rate at the moment, it’d felt really good to face those ghosts. “You did a lot,” she said. “You motivated me.”

He smiled. “Well, then, I’m glad. You’ve got my number if you need a ride. Otherwise I hope to see you tonight.”

She nodded and then went through the checkout. And if she added a candy bar from the evil, evil rack right before the cash register, no one but she had to know.

She had one more stop to make before heading home, and suddenly she needed the candy bar to face it. Chocolate courage, she decided. She inhaled it and then headed to the Love Shack. She knew that someone from her list went there every night for a quick nightcap before heading home.