Cupid's Mistake (13 page)

"Huh," Allison said. "That'd be a
first."

"Look, you're used to a certain kind of guy, because
that's the kind of guy you've wanted. Ben's different. He's not a player. He
respects you, and he likes you. But I don't get the sense he's the type to
chase after you the way you're used to. You might have to take point on this
one."

Considering, Allison flipped the pages of the magazine. Was
Mia right? She'd gotten so used to being the pursued one. The chase-ee, not the
chaser. She was used to getting what she wanted, when she wanted, with whom she
wanted, but she rarely if ever made the first move. She didn't have to. If she
wanted Ben, and she wanted him more now than ever after getting to know him
these past weeks, maybe she'd have to be a bit more proactive.

"Oooh, I like that one," Mia said, stopping
Allison's page-flipping fingers to pinpoint a wedding dress on a page Allison
hadn't really seen.

"Get the stickies," Allison said. Taking the
sticky-note tab from Mia's proffered finger, she marked the spot. Studying the
dress, she said, "I like it, but I think you need something more here, and
less there." She sketched over the dress with her fingers to demonstrate.
"It's too froufy over the boobs, you'll look like Dolly Parton."

Mia frowned. "Maybe," she agreed, "but it's
still going in the try-it-on pile."

Sighing mentally, Allison continued to flip pages while Mia
marked every other page in the magazine she held. At the rate Mia was going,
they'd need a week for her to try on all the dresses she'd picked out, but she
knew her friend. As soon as Mia saw the right one, she'd know it, and that
would be that. Sort of like her own family of women with the men in their
lives.

The Kelly Women's Intuition.

If her initial reaction to Ben was anything to go on, those
feelings had only deepened over the days of her illness and in the weeks since.
They might not have discussed their own relationship, but they'd talked about
everything else under the sun. She felt she knew him every bit as well as she
knew Mia, Jeff and Derrick, and those relationships had developed over nearly
ten years.

But what if he didn't feel the same? What if he was only being
nice, taking care of her the way he had and keeping her company? Was he waiting
for her to make the first move, or did he not feel the incredible sexual pull
she did? She'd never questioned her own sex appeal before, it had always been a
given. But it had never mattered as much before, either.

If Ben truly was her soul mate, she didn't want to screw it
up by moving too fast or making the wrong move. On the other hand, the
frustration was driving her crazy. She wanted him like she wanted her next
breath. Just thinking about his warm fingers gliding over her flesh raised
goose bumps all over her body.

Was that all, though? She'd had good sex—plenty of
it—in the years since losing her virginity to Richie Snyder in the
backseat of his daddy's Chevy Impala when she was seventeen. But Ben did things
to her insides she hadn't felt for anyone else. Was sexual attraction the only
thing making her debate giving up her carefree lifestyle, making her think in
terms of ceremonies, white dresses and promises before God?

Lost in the bridal magazine in her lap, her best friend
beside her, Allison explored her emotions over the hours and days with Ben
since they'd first met. That first astonishing splash of
There he is
, followed by waves of yearning, rolling swells of
feelings. Deep, dark depths of desire.

Was that love?

Another sigh slipped between her lips. She didn't know, but
one thing was certain. She needed to find out.

CHAPTER
EIGHT

An hour later, Mia left to meet Derrick, every magazine
heavily tabbed, and Allison made her decision. Sally wasn't due back until
late, so Ben would be occupied pretty much all night. But there was no reason
she couldn't go over to the house and have an adult conversation with him while
the girls slept. It was after nine o'clock, surely they'd be in bed.

It was too soon for the 'where are we going' talk, but she
couldn't stand the uncertainty any longer. Not after the heightened intensity
of the past couple of weeks. The sexual frustration kept her blood on a
constant boil. The heat was liable to incinerate her if they didn't do
something about it. Soon.

She really wanted to kiss him again.

Besides, it was starting to interfere with her work. Ben was
all she could think about. She'd never had a man take over her mind so
completely. So effortlessly. How many times had she caught herself staring into
space, her hands hovering motionless over her keyboard while a detailed fantasy
starring herself and a naked, sweaty Ben played out behind her eyes, a
cat-in-the-cream smile curling over her lips?

So they'd talk, and she'd make it clear she was ready for
more than hand holding. And she'd be waiting for him tonight when Sally got
home to release him from babysitting duty, no matter how late.

She dressed carefully but kept the exterior casual, her
unbound hair falling down her back in spirals nearly to her waist. Dark jeans
rode her hips. A close-fitting navy-blue sweater with a deep V-neck, minimal
makeup. Blue suede kitten heels, because casual did not mean tennis shoes when
one was hoping to seduce a man. And underneath, matching sapphire
satin-and-lace panties and a demi bra that did amazing things to her breasts.
She might not be as well endowed as Mia, but she did all right with what she
had. Satisfied, she spritzed her perfume behind her ears and added her favorite
Celtic knot earrings.

Nerves jumping higher than she wanted to admit, she cast an
assessing glance around her bedroom. After fluffing her pillows, she rearranged
the candles on her dresser. Then put them back. Arranged them again. When she
caught herself shifting them a fourth time, Allison mentally shook herself, set
the trio of tall vanilla tapers firmly in place, and took one deep breath,
blowing it out through her lips in a short burst of exasperation. When was the
last time she'd taken such care in setting the stage for sex? But this was
about more than a physical connection. The night required romance.

Soft music waited in her CD player, and the rest of the
house was tidy as usual, thanks mostly to Ben keeping up on everything while
she was sick. She moved the flowers from her kitchen table to her room as a
final touch, stopped her fingers from nudging the candles once more, grabbed
her keys and headed out, her stage set.

The short walk to Sally's house, another small rambler like
her own, calmed her nerves, and the cool night air helped reduce the heated
flush dewing her body with anticipation. It was always better to know where she
stood than to guess and worry and wonder, so regardless of the outcome. . .

No, that wasn't going to fly. This outcome
mattered
. She'd just have to make sure it was the one she
wanted.

Lifting her hand to knock on Sally's front door, the sound
of high-pitched giggling from the other side of the wood paused her hand in
mid-knock. The kids were still up.

Okay.

Readjusting her immediate plans, she plastered a smile on
her face and knocked anyway. A crash, a squeal and a muffled
crap!
reached her ears. What on earth was going on in
there?

"Hold on," Ben's voice sounded through the door.
The velvet-over-tumbled stones raspyness of his deep timbre sent a shiver over
her skin.

Then he opened the door, and all her tingle-inducing
strategies for the evening disappeared in surprise, followed by an inelegant
snort of laughter.

"I'm sorry," she choked out, "I'm looking for
a
Ben
Turner. You must be his sister,
Benjamina?"

"Ha-ha, very funny. Get in here before anyone else sees
me like this." So saying, he reached out and yanked her off her feet so
she fell against his chest just inside the doorway.

Still giggling, she pushed back to get a better look at him
as he slammed the door behind her. The frilly pink apron that probably reached
to mid-calf on Sally covered his torso to just below his jeans-clad crotch,
while a frothy pink boa wrapped around his neck and trailed feathers over his
dark red shirt. A sparkling tiara perched jauntily on his head, and huge,
glittery pink earrings dangled from both ears. She flicked one delicately,
sending it swinging against his neck and earning a lowered brow and a glint in
Ben's sharp green eyes that promised retribution later.

But that was nothing to the shiny Barbie-pink lipstick
covering his mouth in a wild swipe or the inch-long false nails—pink
again, of course—stuck haphazardly to the tips of his fingers.

"Now who's a princess?" she asked with an angelic
smile. Ben grimaced.

From the family room behind them, Sally's daughters
chorused, "Hi, Allison! Come have tea with us and Uncle Ben!"

The girls, Megan and Marissa, ages eight and seven, were
similarly attired, with the addition of pink high heels on their feet and lacy
white gloves on their hands. Their tiaras perched at sassy angles on top of
heads covered in curly brown hair a shade lighter than Ben's.

Allison patted Ben on the chest and said, "Jeff would
be so proud." Giving him a wicked smile, she turned to the girls.
"Coming right over. Do you have a tiara for me?"

"Of course, silly," Marissa said, hauling one out
of a huge bag beside her chair.

"Here, you can wear my gloves," Megan added,
handing them to Allison, "I have more in my room!" With that, she
dashed down the hallway and was back in a flash, new gloves in place. "Sit
by me," she instructed, patting the seat next to her. "Uncle Ben can
sit on the floor, 'cuz he's a boy."

Smirking only a little, Allison looked him over from head to
toe. "Are you sure?" she asked, and made the girls laugh.

"Demoted by a chromosome," Ben muttered, arranging
himself on the floor at Allison's feet. "Okay, you two, one more round,
then it's off to bed. Your mom'll skin me alive if she gets home and you're
still awake."

Megan leaned toward Allison and stage whispered, "He's
cranky 'cuz we beat him at Mario Kart again."

"They cheat," he said to no one in particular,
lifting a tiny plastic teacup full of water to his lips, pinky finger
appropriately raised to the side.

Ben pursed his lips to sip from the cup, and Allison
thought,
Oh, I'm in trouble.

Any doubts remaining as to her feelings for this man fell
off the mental shelf she'd stuck them on and shattered at her feet in that
moment. She, who prided herself on her casual attachments, who had more
male-conquest notches on her lipstick case than any three of her friends
combined, had tumbled head over heels for a man she'd kissed exactly twice, a
man she hadn't even slept with. A man whose bare skin she hadn't even touched.

Her family intuition might have set the stage, but this
sweet, tender slide was all hers. Love, pure, unconditional, powerful, crested
in one long, lovely swell of emotion, overflowing every boundary. A flood of
feeling, sweeping away uncertainty and fear, leaving only elation in its wake.

For the first time in her life, Allison took the fall. She
was in love. With Ben.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Another hour flew by before the girls finally settled into
bed after much giggling, a little grumbling, and many mock ultimatums from Ben.
But when he threatened not to read to them, they hopped in their beds with the
covers pulled beneath their chins as though they'd only been waiting for him to
sit down with the book.

Still giddy with her realization, Allison had hardly been
able to sit still through the end of the tea party and the beginning of the
bedtime ritual. Now she watched from the girls' bedroom doorway, tenderness
bursting in her heart. Was there anything more endearing than a giant of a man
dressed in little-girl finery and reading a storybook, complete with individual
character voices? Megan and Marissa stared at him with rapt attention,
adoration shining from their sweet brown eyes.

They fell asleep before he finished the first chapter.

Pulling the door partly closed so the nightlight in the
hallway would still be visible if either of the girls woke, Ben pinned Allison
in place with the weight of his stare, that one-sided up-tick pulling his mouth
into the smile she'd come to adore. She leaned against the opposite wall,
studying him head to toe. He was so huge, he filled the small space. She wanted
him to fill her. To surround her, overwhelm her, never let her go. The power of
her feelings for him left her reeling. Less than two months, and her entire
world had turned upside down.

Incredible.

Because scary words like 'commitment' and 'forever' wanted
to babble out of her mouth, she went with the safe topic.

"You're really good with them," she said, nodding
to the girls' bedroom door.

He shrugged. "They're good kids. Going through a rough
time with their dad pulling their affections every which way, but they'll
figure it out eventually. It hurts Sally, though."

"It's lucky they have you."

Ducking his head, Ben shrugged again. "I'm lucky,
too."

Allison nodded, one fingertip running along the edge of her
sweater's V-neckline. Ben's eyes traced the movement, following the course of
her fingertip into the shadow of her cleavage, as she'd intended. Hoping Mia was
right, she prepared to make the first move. They'd danced around each other
long enough, had worn out phase one of the dating ritual. It was time for phase
two.

"I want to kiss you, Benjamin," she said huskily,
and watched his eyes flare, "but I'm afraid I'll smear your
lipstick."

"What? Oh." With a half laugh, he covered his
mouth with his hand. "Hold that thought. I'll be right back."