Page 6 of Always the Matchmaker
And his assets are clear.And what an ass-et it is.
“Are you still leaving?” he asks me, he stands sure of himself now.
“Yeah, gotta meet the girls for our gift exchange.”
“Wait, did you drive here?”
“No, I walked.”
He huffs. “If you wait I can give you…a…ride.” The low tone of his voice lets me know his provocation of dirty thoughts and intentions. I bite my tongue to keep from taking the bait but I am eager for a ride, especially after his display of manhood.
“Yes…I could use a ride,” I finally respond in the tense silence between us. I lick my lips and look him over slowly. “Into town of course.” I look up at him through burgundy colored lashes and smile sweetly, turning his cocky grin into a hungry one. “I’ll wait downstairs, Ben,” I say his name and he swallows hard. I turn tail and walk slowly away, afraid if I go any faster I’ll fall on my face, tremors in my thighs and my own hunger rocketing between them.
You can take me for a ride…any day, Benjamin Cross.
Ben
I get dressed quickly, worrying if I spend too much time alone with Candace I’ll lose my cool. I have a body that gets looks from women ages eighteen to a hundred and eighteen, and what I have between my legs has even made men gasp in the locker room. Still, I had yet to meet a woman that made me want to show it off quite as much as she did.
Something to think about.
“Ready?” I ask her. “The Red Wreath Inn, right?”
“Actually, can you take me to the Library Bar?” She picks the dog hair out of her knit top as she goes to the door.
“Uh…”
Did she know I had plans to go there, too?
My only friend in town, Abe, and I are going to have a drink. Thursdays are our night to grab a beer and catch up.
“You do know it, right? And it’s closer than the Inn, isn’t it?” She arches a brow at my hesitation.
“Right. Yeah. That’s fine.” I lead us out to the garage on the side of the house.
She slides to a stop. “Why is it so tall?” She looks up at me and sighs, knowing why without my telling her. I don’t even have foot guards on the side because I don’t need them.
But the Southern gentleman in me kicks in. My mother always taught me open doors for women. I double-time my step to beat her to the door and open it for her. She takes a deep breath, looking between the ground and the high step she must take. I’m torn between laughing and helping her up. She rises to her tiptoes and grabs the inside of the door and then struggles to reach the handle in the roof lining—the definitely “Oh-shit” bar in this instance.
Unable to watch her struggle further, I help from behind her, hands tucking into her waist, a gentle but a firm hold that I can put my strength into. The touch elicits a squeak from her, a mewl of surprise and pleasure as I lift her into the seat. My hand accidentally gazing across her ass as it slips away. She stares at me with wide eyes, wind brushing red strands across her bewildered face. I’m going to assume no one ever lifted her before, at least not like that.
I slap a cocky grin on my face and shut the passenger door. My blood pumps loudly in my ears. I want to lift her again.
Hell, I want to toss that plump little thing onto my bed.
The truck ride over is quiet, the air thick with tension. Neither of us daring to speak. I crack my window to let hot air out, the two of us steaming with attraction.
We reach the bar, but she doesn’t wait for me, slipping out as fast as she can. I chuckle at her haphazard escape. I text Abe to see if he’s there yet. I hadn’t mentioned my plans to come in and let her have her brief moment of space before I exit.
* * *
Candy
I see Cohen first when I walk through the door. He leans on the wall, sipping a glass of wine slowly, and smiling, his eyes across the room. I follow his gaze, they’re only on Belle, our little introvert turned his sunshine.
I slide up beside him, nudging him hello. “You look tired, Cohen. Belle keeping you up all hours of the night?” I tease him. Belle found herself a partner in Cohen, the owner of the Red Wreath Inn, not long after we arrived at Ribbon Cove for our holiday girls’ trip.
“A gentleman never tells. The intimate details of true love are for me to keep secret,” he winks at me and takes a small sip of wine. “You better hurry and catch up.” He points towards the group with his glass. “I volunteered to be D.D. Have fun.”
