Montana Cherries (31 page)

chapter twenty-seven

B
en scrolled through the pictures on his laptop to find the one he wanted to work on next, and as it loaded he sipped his cup of coffee. He zoomed in, taking note of the details in the subject’s eyes. It was a woman in her early forties. She’d posed for him a couple of years ago. She wasn’t a professional, just someone he’d met at a coffee shop similar to the one he sat in today.

He’d been taken with the woman’s eyes, as well as her entire face.

Her bone structure hadn’t been perfect, but she was one of those people who was more beautiful because of it. He’d caught her unsmiling, and the shot seemed to invite people in.

“Can I get you anything else, hot stuff?”

Ben looked up and shot Karen an easy smile. Karen was a server he’d taken out a couple of times. Working on his book in the coffee shop most days, he’d become friends with her. So when she’d invited him to a Halloween party last month, he’d decided it was time to do more than spend his evenings staring at the lake. The date had gone well, and he’d asked her to the movies the following weekend.

That had been fine, too.

But then he’d cancelled on her at the last minute the previous Saturday. He felt bad about that.

“I’m good,” he answered now. “Still working on my coffee.”

She pulled out a chair and sank onto it. “How about something . . . that you can’t get here, then?” she asked, seeming embarrassed. It was endearing.

“Like . . . an omelet?” he teased.

She laughed. She was pretty—blonde, trim, maybe five-six. And she was nice. He’d been in here with Haley a few times after picking her up from school, and if Karen was on the clock, she always made it a point to stop and chat with his daughter, usually bringing her a place mat to color.

“I wasn’t really thinking an omelet,” she admitted. Dimples flashed in her cheeks. “Maybe dinner? Thought you might be free this weekend.”

She seemed to hold her breath as she waited, and Ben forced himself not to immediately decline. They’d had a good time together. It’s just that he hadn’t been overly eager to do it again. He’d rather spend his evenings with his daughter.

He hadn’t
hated
it, though. He’d merely been neutral.

But maybe he needed to reconsider. Push it a step further. Probably he should actually kiss her before writing her off.

Only, he had little desire to kiss anyone.

“There’s Haley,” he pondered out loud. She’d been his excuse for cancelling last weekend, claiming a babysitter emergency.

Of course, there had been no issue. He and Haley had both ended up spending the evening with Max and Gloria, instead of Haley being there by herself. Gloria hadn’t asked about the change in plans, but she’d given him a look as if she’d known.

As if it had something to do with Dani. Which it did not. He was over Dani.

Or, he’d like to be.

But with Dani’s regular conversations with Haley, he’d found that getting over her was harder to do than he’d anticipated. He’d watched her throughout the weeks. Every time Haley and she talked. He’d stood off to the side and drunk in the sight of her the way an addict might his vice. She looked good. And the last few calls, she’d seemed different.

More confident. More settled.

More satisfied.

Which made him wonder if the satisfaction came from personal changes in her life . . . or from a man.

The thought of her happiness coming from another man filled him with a level of jealousy he couldn’t have anticipated. Especially after more than three months of her being gone. It irritated him that he even cared.

But the fact was, he did care. She’d hurt him. And then she’d moved on.

While he’d remained in Montana spinning his wheels.

“We don’t have to
go
anywhere,” Karen proposed. “I could come to your house. Haley could be there too.” She gave a hopeful shrug. “I’d cook.”

He didn’t want her at his house.

Actually, he didn’t want any woman there.

So far, other than Gloria—and all of Haley’s friends—he’d only had men inside his home. He felt protective of the space.

Haley’s birthday party had turned into a boys’ night-slash-girls’ party. The dads had all piled into his media room while the girls had overrun the remainder of the house. Plenty of chaperones had been on-site, but not one of them had been a woman.

It had been a really great time, and there was talk of a repeat next year. Without the girls.

But was he ready to have a woman at his house now?

He thought of Dani once more. She was gone. He’d lost her. He knew that.

He had to move on, in heart and mind, as well as in body. It was time.

Just not at his house quite yet.

“Dinner,” he said before he could change his mind. “But I’ll find a sitter, and I’ll take you out.”

Karen’s smile grew bright. “Great. Tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“I’m looking forward to it. And tell Haley I said hi, will you?” She rose, and tossed him one last smile before heading to another table.

Left standing in her place was Dani.

Son of a bitch.

“Hi, Ben,” she said, and hot anger shot through him at the flare of hope her presence caused.

“Dani.” He schooled his features into an emotionless mask. “What are you doing here?”

“Thanksgiving,” she murmured. “Everyone’s coming home.” Her hands twisted together in front of her as she glanced at Karen, and Ben watched her eyes, trying to figure out what she was thinking. Why she was in the coffee shop.

Why she stood before him after three wordless months.

She’d never once asked to talk to him when she’d been on the phone with Haley. Nor had she even asked
about
him. Had he meant nothing to her?

But then, hadn’t she made it clear she didn’t love him?

She turned back to the table, and he forced himself to loosen the clench of his jaw.

“And I’m here in the coffee shop because I needed to see
you
,” she said. “I was hoping we could talk.”

He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to see her. He didn’t want to want her.

Only . . .
Fuck.

With a slight nod, he motioned for her to go on, giving silent permission for her to say her piece. He would hear it, and then he’d make sure she left.

Dani stepped closer. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Ben.” Her eyes softened with her words. “I never wanted to, and I’ve felt bad about it since I left. But I do maintain my belief that I had to go. By myself,” she added softly, almost apologetically. “I’ve learned a lot over the past months. I have a better handle on who I am. Who I want to be.” She licked her lips. “And what I want in the future.”

He stared at her and forgot to blink. What did she want?

“You needed me to know something once before,” she continued. “And today I’m here because I need
you
to know something too. That I’ve missed you.”

No words came to mind. He did force himself to blink, though.

Then Karen passed through his peripheral vision, and he let his gaze follow her as his brain screamed at the injustice of Dani’s words. She missed him. What did that mean? Was he supposed to care?

Did she think he’d pack his bags and head to New York now? After all this time?

Because he wouldn’t.

He didn’t need her anymore.

As he continued to focus on Karen, he had the quick thought that Karen was the type of woman he needed. She was cute and normal. Nice.

And she wouldn’t make him love her, then rip out his heart.

He returned his attention to Dani, taking note of the overt glances being tossed their way from surrounding customers, and shut down the quickening of his pulse. He didn’t care that Dani had missed him. He couldn’t care.

“You’ve been gone a long time,” he said. He didn’t adjust his voice for politeness.

“I have.”

“You told me to move on.”

Her bottom lip slipped between her teeth and she nodded. “I did tell you that.”

“That’s what I’m doing.”

For a moment, she glanced down at her hands, and he thought she’d leave. He’d won. She would not stand there and verbally shred his heart.

But then she looked back up, and he saw the determination in her eyes. “Could we find a more private place to talk, do you think? There’s more I’d like to say.”

His instinct shouted
no
. They didn’t need privacy. He didn’t want to hear what she had to say.

Only, he was an idiot when it came to Dani. Anyone watching the two of them could probably see that the mere sight of her brought him to his knees. She made him want to hope, and he couldn’t help but selfishly drink her in. He wasn’t ready for her to leave yet. Even if that meant listening to whatever else she had to say.

Standing, he motioned with his head, and together they moved to a more quiet area by an empty booth in the back corner. Neither of them sat.

He crossed his arms over his chest.

“I
have
missed you, Ben. A lot. And Haley.” She chewed on the corner of her mouth. “But I also came here today to tell you that I can love you now.”

Ben’s heart clenched. “You can love me now?” he repeated. Ire rose inside him. “Well, thanks so much.”

The woman drove him crazy.

“What I’m saying is,” she began, the tightness of her mouth showing her frustration, “that I love
me
now. Or, I’m learning to. Therefore I can be capable of loving
you
. I tried to explain that before.” She made a face before adding, “I probably didn’t do a good job of it. I wasn’t completely sure I knew what I was talking about, anyway.”

“Dani.” He held up a hand. “Just stop. You’ve been gone for over three months. Am I supposed to care at this point? What the hell does that mean, anyway? Capable of loving me?”

“It means . . .” She stopped talking when Karen passed by, leading a customer to a nearby table. Karen’s gaze sought him out, and he couldn’t help but let his cling to hers. He needed to
not
need Dani at that moment.

He needed to not need her ever again.

Because her words were already reaching inside him. Seeking out more than he thought he wanted to give.

“Never mind,” Dani murmured. “I get it. I’m too late.” She pressed her lips together and eyed Karen one last time, her chest rising and falling with steady breaths before turning back and staring directly at him. “I came here because I wanted another chance, Ben.
You’re
what I want in the future. That’s the other thing I figured out in New York. I don’t want to give up on us. But I see that option is off the table. I’ll be around if you ever want to talk.”

She turned, then, and as she had the last time he’d seen her, she walked out of his life.

And as he had before, he let her go.

Two seconds later the spot before him was empty, and his head felt like it was spinning in circles. What in the hell had just happened? She wanted him back?

She could love him now?

What did any of that mean?
Did
she love him? Did he care?

Did
he
want
her
back?

And what had she meant about being around if he wanted to talk? Was she here for the week . . . or for longer?

And again, did he care? He’d just moved on.
Today.
He’d made a third date with Karen. He intended to kiss her. Maybe more. He was over Dani.

Only . . .

She could love him now.

She wanted him back.

His chest deflated. He couldn’t get his hopes up. Not again. Not for Dani. His heart couldn’t take another beating.

No. He shook his head, ignoring the renewed looks from customers. He’d stick with Karen. They had a date tomorrow night. That was enough. Karen was safe.

And that was all
he
wanted.

The smell of warm bread greeted Dani as the front door of her childhood home opened later that afternoon.

“Dani!” Gloria gasped and Dani gave the older woman a little hey-I’m-home smile. “Come in. Please.” Gloria ushered her inside the house. “Your dad is in the family room. You’re earlier than we expected. He’ll be so pleased to see you.”