Once in a Lifetime(69)

“Who, me?” she asked innocently.

When the van was empty, Ben stared out at the pier, which was lit up like the Fourth of July. Yeah, the people of Lucky Harbor took their Winter Festival very seriously. The last time he’d been here for the festival, he’d had Hannah with him, and at that thought he braced for the usual stab of agony through his heart. But there was no sharp pain at all, just a sweet ache and the memory of Hannah dragging him out onto the dance floor, which made him smile.

But he still didn’t want to go. So he put the van in gear and hit the gas. There was really only one place he wanted to be tonight, and only one person he wanted to be with.





Alone, Aubrey sat on her bed in a big T-shirt she’d stolen from Ben. Every other item of clothing she owned was either at the dry cleaner or in her laundry basket, waiting for a trip to the Laundromat. Her grand-opening party was only a few days from now, and she was working on the plans. The store calendar had filled up so nicely, with something happening just about every day of the week, that she actually had a shot at making this work.

Too bad she didn’t have a shot in hell of making her private life work nearly so neatly. She’d promised herself that the very next time she saw Ben she’d tell him the truth. That he was on her list. She was pretty sure how things would go from there.

South. Fast.

Restless, she rose and started a game of darts. If she got a bull’s-eye, she told herself, she’d tell Ben now. She’d get into her car, drive straight to his place, and just spit it out.

Which would effectively ruin the best thing that had ever happened to her…

She got a bull’s-eye on the second try. Damn it. “Two out of three,” she said out loud, and gathered the darts.

She startled when the single knock sounded at her door. She knew that knock, and even if she hadn’t, the way her nipples hardened told her exactly who was on the other side of the door.

He didn’t knock again. This was because, as she’d learned, he had the patience of a saint.

Not that there was anything remotely saintly about him.

Still, she glanced through the peephole. Though she hadn’t made a noise, Ben looked right at her, brow cocked.

If you open the door, you have to tell him.

On the other side of the door, Ben lifted the bag he held. It was from the Love Shack.

Her head said, Danger, Will Robinson, danger! But her stomach growled, and apparently her stomach was the boss. She pulled open the door. “Ben. I—”

He pushed inside as though he owned the place. “Why aren’t you at the Winter Festival?”

“I’m…busy.”

He glanced at the darts in her hand. “Yes, I can see that.” The corners of his mouth quirked but his eyes remained serious. “You up for a game?”

“With me?”

“Three darts,” he said. “Highest points combined wins.”

“What does the winner get?” she asked.

His gaze ate her up. “Winner’s choice.”

Her heart took a treacherous leap. Her choice would be to never have to tell him what she’d done, but she knew that was no longer a choice at all. “Are you any good?” she asked.

He shrugged and made himself at home, setting down the bag he’d brought and turning to the dartboard. “Ladies first,” he said.

“I stole your T-shirt,” she said inanely.

“I can see that.” He eyed her from head to toe and back again, lingering, making her very aware of how thin and see-through the shirt was, a fact he was clearly enjoying. “It looks better on you than it ever did on me,” he said, voice low and sexy. “Play, Aubrey.”

She threw her darts. Two hit the twenty, the last hit the bull’s-eye. Trying to hold back her smug smile, she turned to him. “Sixty-five points.”

“You’re good.” He slid his hand around to the nape of her neck and tugged her in for a quick, hard kiss. “But I’m better,” he said silkily against her lips.

Every erogenous zone in her body stood up and danced. “Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is?”

“Don’t tempt me.” He kissed her again, and then nipped at her lower lip. Then he pulled the darts from the board, stood at the line, and shot.

For a moment her eyes were on him, on the long, lean, hard lines of his body, and she didn’t see his first throw. But his second throw caught her attention.

Triple twenty, just like his first. Uh-oh.

Turning his head, he looked at her, and then threw the third dart. Another triple twenty. He hadn’t gone for the bull’s-eye. He’d gone for the maximum points on the board. One hundred and eighty, to be exact.

“Hmm,” she said. “You’re better than good.”

“Yeah.” He gave her another kiss, this one a little longer, a little deeper, and a whole lot hotter. She was completely melted into him when he pulled back and gave her a light swat on the ass. “Hungry?” he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed the bag of food and sat on her bed. He pulled out a burrito and unwrapped the foil, making steam rise. He wafted it in her direction.



Her stomach growled again.

He smiled and patted the bed.

“What about your spoils?” she asked.

“Later.”