Beau came running at the clink of the latch after she closed it, and unwrapping the Saran from two pieces of bacon, she tossed the treat into the air, Beau’s Underdog leap coaxing a smile despite her testy mood. “Enjoy, big boy, because one of us needs to.”
With a square of her shoulders, she strode right up to Ben’s slider, sucking in a deep breath before she practiced a bright smile. “Easy does it, Teresa,” she muttered, giving the glass the perky and friendly tap she’d employed so many times in the past. “The man’s done nothing wrong.” Except comply with my stupid rules. Smile in place, she waited.
And waited.
And waited, tempted to make more noise than Beau as he squealed. The lab nosed the door with a stream of pathetic whimpers that coincided with those in her head.
“Come on, Ben,” she mumbled, “you’ve got an antsy dog out here.” She rapped the glass with her knuckles, her frustration rising along with poor Beau’s. “Not to mention an antsy fiancée.”
Uh … almost fiancée, she reminded herself through a clenched smile, suddenly ticked that Ben had not only stayed away, but now he wasn’t even answering his stupid door. One hand cupped to the glass, she peered into his dark family room, spying lights in both the kitchen and down the hall. “Come on, Carmichael, I know you’re in there …”
Oh, how she hated what this was doing to her! Before Ben, she’d been content, happy-go-lucky, even-keel. She paused, the truth niggling over what Ben referred to as her “too perky” personality. Well, even-keel for the most part. But since Ben had left for his medical mission trip, she’d been calm, supportive, the height of maturity in getting her and her family past the heartbreak of Adam’s death. And yet the moment Ben returned, she’d lost it all, morphing into a hot-tempered, stubborn bully, and she didn’t like it one little bit. And now the thought of Ben pulling away, possibly pursuing a woman who was less of a shrew scared her silly, heaping jealousy and fear on top of an already volatile mindset.
Before she knew it, she was banging on the glass for all she was worth, eyes squeezed closed as she pounded on the door, determined to give Dr. Doom a piece of her mind along with her cookies. So help me, Ben Carmichael, if you don’t open up right now …
Screeeeeeeech.
Her eyes popped open when the door whooshed sideways on the track, interrupting her mid-air assault. “Tess! What a nice surprise.” Ben butted a hip to the doorjamb, arms in a relaxed fold that only accentuated well-toned biceps in a turquoise Polo. His deep tan and windblown sable hair salted at the temples suggested a day on his boat, ratcheting up her temper another notch while hazel eyes studied her with a twinkle. A lazy smile inched across lips that hadn’t kissed hers since her “nuzzle ban” a few nights after the dock discussion, when Ben wanted to pick up where they’d left off. Only she figured a man as hard-headed as Dr. Doom needed a little extra incentive, so she’d topped it off with no kisses, no lap snuggles, and no inside visits until he and Cam were as tight as ticks.
Yeah, that worked well.
The sparkle of humor in those mesmerizing eyes gleamed as bright as the flash of white teeth when his smile slid into a grin. “I’d invite you in, Ms. O’Bryen, but Tess’s rules,” he said with a slight shrug, his husky drawl laced with tease, “and I’m nothing if not compliant.”
She gritted her teeth, her smile as plastic as the Saran over the cookies. I’ll give you compliant …
“Are these for me?” He reached for the plate of cookies, and she jerked them away so fast, two of them flew off the plate despite the Saran, happily snarfed up by Beau.
“No!” she bit out before she realized what she’d done, her frustration festering out of control. She hiked her chin up, fire burning in her eyes. “They’re for Jack and Lacey,” she said, justifying the fib based on the fact that they did live in Ben’s house and she did bake them cookies on occasion.
Just never delivered them late at night.
“Something wrong, Tess?” Ben’s manner turned serious as he slipped his hands in his pockets, but the twitch of a smile and eyes warm with affection gave him dead away.
“No, Dr. Doom, there isn’t, so you can wipe that smirk right off your face.” She rammed the cookie plate hard into his chest, doubly annoyed when it felt like a brick wall. “Here,” she snapped, “this is the third batch I’ve baked in two weeks, but you wouldn’t know since you never seem to be home.”
He grabbed the plate, skimming her hand with his thumb before her arm jerked away. His smile was tender. “I thought you baked these for Jack and Lacey,” he whispered, his husky tone getting on her nerves when it rippled her stomach.
“I did,” she hissed, too far gone to save face. “Because you’re obviously too busy to even come by.”
“I’ve been spending most of my spare time on the boat these last few weeks, Tess.” Sobriety stole the humor from his eyes as he set the plate of cookies on his sofa table, his gaze never leaving hers. Stepping outside, he closed the door behind him. “You know—to think. Pray. Talk.”
Talk? Her imagination went wild, detonating the bomb ticking inside.
She bludgeoned a finger to his broad chest. “Are you seeing someone else, Ben Carmichael?” she shouted, not giving a whit if anybody could hear her ranting in the middle of the night.
“Yes,” he whispered, tugging her close with a shuttered look that immediately snatched all protest from her throat. Before she could object, he burrowed his lips into the crook of her neck, mouth skimming up to suckle the lobe of her ear. “I am.”
Any other time, Ben’s lips would have melted her on the spot, but this time she didn’t feel a thing but the awful stab of his response, and immediately she started pummeling his chest with a sting of tears in her eyes.
“My ex-brother-in-law,” he said quickly, reeling her back in with a soft chuckle as he brushed a kiss to her lips. Cupping her jaw with one hand, he held up the other with two fingers crossed, a bit of the devil sparkling in those amazing hazel eyes. “We’re like this, you know.”
She blinked, mouth falling open before he sealed it with an intimate kiss. Stifling a moan, she pushed him back, palms flat to his chest while she fought off more tears. “You and C-Cam?” she stuttered. “You made amends?”
“Not just amends, Tess.” He traced a finger down the side of her face, the look of love in his eyes all but swelling her throat. “He’s my new fishing buddy, although I will admit, the boy has a lot to learn.”
“B-But how?” she whispered, caressing his shadowed jaw with a feeling of awe, hardly able to believe Ben had done this for her.
He shrugged and leaned back against the house with a faint smile, arms circling her waist to draw her in close. “God railroaded me, I’m afraid, prompted by your prayers, no doubt. Ever since you laid down the law, I was dragging my feet on confronting Cam face-to-face.” His smile kinked. “Until I ran into him in Marv’s office a few weeks ago after I took Jack and Lacey out on the boat.”
His chest rose and fell in a heavy sigh. “You were right, Tess,” he said quietly, his smile fading into a sobriety that bordered on reverence. “Cam was the last holdout in that hedge of bitterness I built over the years, and God knew it needed to come down. So we talked, we yelled, then we talked some more, and I asked his forgiveness for ruining his sister’s life.” His jaw stiffened as he looked away, as if embarrassed by a sheen of tears. “Because I’m done harboring hurt, Tess.” His gaze reconnected with hers as he stroked her hair with the same tenderness she saw in his eyes. “And I don’t want anything to ever ruin this precious love that we have.”
Her chin began to quiver.
“So it would appear,” he continued with a tap of her nose, “that your objections to marriage have been effectively laid to rest.” He leaned in to tease her mouth with his own, his words feathering her skin with a delicious heat. “Bitterness toward Cam corrected. Check.” He strayed to gently tug on the soft flesh of her lobe. “Jealousy toward Cam corrected. Check.” His laughter rumbled hot a
gainst her ear with a teasing flick of his tongue, coaxing a faint moan from her throat. “Friendship with Cam established. Check, Check.” He finished her off with a kiss that made her go limp in his arms before he dug into his pocket for the ring he tried to give her before. “So Phase One accomplished, Ms. O’Bryen,” he whispered, “and now we move on to Phase Two, yes?”
Overcome with both gratitude and desire, she lunged to hug him with all of her might, tears staining his shirt as she pressed her cheek to his chest. “Yes, yes, yes, and oh, Ben, I love you so very much!”
His husky chuckle tumbled her stomach as he placed the ring on her finger, a dangerous smile matching the heated look in his eyes. “Enough to break a few rules with a little temptation? Like snuggling on the couch to watch a movie?” He slowly traced the shape of her lips with the pad of his thumb, his intentions abundantly clear. “And I have Häagen-Dazs …”
Tess gulped. Häagen-Dazs and Ben—Lord have mercy!
Swallowing hard, she put as much distance between them as she possibly could, given the tight circle of Ben’s arms to her waist. “Häagen-Dazs is one temptation I’ll succumb to anytime, Dr. Carmichael, but out here on the patio, if you will.” Tugging free from his hold, she stood on tiptoe to slowly graze his lips with her own before holding out her hand to admire her ring. “Because the way I feel about you right now, Doc?” A warm shiver pebbled her skin as she hurried to claim one of his Adirondack chairs, tucking her legs to settle in with a shaky wink. “I sure don’t trust myself inside.”
Chapter Nineteen
“I’m telling you, woman, you missed your calling.” Sam wiped the sweat from his face with the bottom of his “Pediatrician … I see little people” T-shirt, revealing a tan six-pack that depleted all moisture from Shannon’s throat. “I swear you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met,” he said, repeating a compliment he often doled out during their counseling sessions. “And I’ve met some pretty brainy chicks in med school, Shan, but you’re a bloomin’ genius, you know that?”
In plotting a relationship between the player and the princess in her novel, yes. Shannon humored him with a patient smile as they headed toward the Camp Hope gym after a basketball game with the kids. But in pursuing a friendship between a player and a ghostwriter? Shannon’s smile went south. She couldn’t be too darn smart if she was starting to look forward to these “sessions” more than she should. After several times of hanging out following camp and almost daily texts, her friendship with Sam had grown to the point where she’d rather spend time with him than write or hang out with her friends—two things that had always satisfied her loneliness before.
The only bright spot was that her romance novel was coming along swimmingly, the need to channel all her pent-up feelings for Sam fueling her cause. And although the growing closeness between them alarmed her at times, she truly believed the spiritual groundwork she was laying far outweighed the risk to her heart. A risk she completely gave to God since she now believed her friendship with Sam was in His plan all along. “Define genius,” she said as he bobbled the basketball back and forth.
He focused on the ball while he spun it on his finger, providing ample opportunity to study him unaware. A dangerous thing to do. The more she saw of the “real” Sam with his wellspring of vitality, the more she was drawn into the vortex of a man who at the core, possessed an almost childlike humility and hope. A little-boy innocence of sorts that was so at odds with the self-confident charmer about town. There were times like now when the player was nowhere in sight, giving way to a crazy and carefree man whose energy for life was so strong, it sent her heart spinning more than the ball on his finger. “You know, a woman so in touch with her feelings—both spiritually and emotionally—that she’s a beacon of truth to all those she knows and loves.”
Shannon deflected the heat in her cheeks with a wry smile. “Gosh, Doc, you make me sound like the Statue of Liberty.”
He paused the ball mid-spin, his faint smile belied by the intensity in his eyes. “That’s because you are, Shannon, to me anyway. You’ve liberated me, kiddo, in more ways than you know.”
“I’m glad,” she whispered, uttering a silent prayer she could one day usher him into the true freedom of faith. “So, Dr. Love … why am I a ‘genius’ today?”
Mischief curled on his lips as he palmed the ball with one hand, his sideways glance offering a teasing dance of brows. “Apparently Jazz and Mr. Wrong are having issues, and she’s coming to me for advice.”
“Really?” Shannon’s heart sped up, a mix of pride and joy colliding with a hint of malaise. “What happened?”
He tossed the ball back and forth as they approached the gym, his smile suddenly ebbing along with the prior victory in his tone. “She showed up at my place last night crying,” he said quietly, “so we talked for a long while, deeper than we ever have before.” He opened the gym door for Shannon and followed her in, unleashing a heavy sigh as he put the ball away. “And I’ll tell you what, Shan—tore me up so much, I just wanted to swallow her up in my arms and make the hurt go away.” He fell in step beside her on the way to the parking lot. “So I asked her to stay for popcorn and a movie.”
Shannon skidded to a stop, several pebbles flying when she spun to face him. “You didn’t try and …” She fought the rise of a gulp, not really wanting to hear his answer.
His mouth tipped. “No, Teach. I did just what you told me, as difficult as it was. Comfort, coffee, and nothing else.” He opened her door and she slid in, waiting for him to get in on the other side. “And let me tell you,” he continued after he started the ignition, “the woman was all over me before the credits could even roll, almost pouting when I wouldn’t put out.” He gave her a wink before easing the Vette out of the lot. “Kinda felt like you, Shan.”
Shannon gaped at his profile in awe, hardly able to believe the playboy in Sam had turned away the woman he loved. “You mean you didn’t even kiss her?”
Strains of Keith Urban’s “But for the Grace of God” filtered through the car as a slow smile wended its way across his lips. “Sushi okay?” he asked, ignoring her question.
“No, sushi is not okay,” she said with a slap of his arm. “You know I don’t do slimy.”
He flashed a grin with a wiggle of dark brows. “Yeah, I do, remember?”
She whacked him again, face burning over his reference to the one and only pass he’d ever made. “I need real protein, Doc, not designer fish food, and you didn’t answer my question. Did you kiss her or not?”
“Nope.” With a smug smile, he got on the Harry S. Truman Parkway, and she knew he was taking her to Sandfly BBQ, one of her favorite obsessions.
After him, of course. Her smile bottomed out over a thought she had no business thinking. Buck up, O’Bryen—this is friendship, remember?
“I didn’t kiss her, Teach, but she sure kissed me.” He shot her a grin before accelerating to his usual breakneck speed on the highway.
Shannon’s jaw dropped, pretty sure her eyes were as round as his headlights. “Oh my goodness, Sam, what did you do?”
His broad shoulders lifted in a casual shrug, smile soft as the Vette ate up the miles. “I just pushed her gently away and told her I respected our friendship and her relationship with the boyfriend too much to mess either of them up. So she left.”
Shannon hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until it seeped through her lips. “Before the movie?”
“Yep.” He glanced her way, a definite gleam in his eyes. “But not before laying one on me at the door that almost made me cry before I pushed her away. I sent her home more than a little frustrated, I guarantee you, but she wasn’t alone. But it was all worth it, though, because I can sense a shift in her, you know? Like the winds are starting to blow my way.” He winked. “Shouldn’t be long now before she dumps the chump and we’re back together for good.”
Shannon drew in a deep breath, slowly releasing it again. “You so sure about that, Doc?” she said quietly,
pretty certain it wasn’t going to be as easy as that.
He squinted at her as he exited the highway, a deep cleft at the bridge of his nose. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Think about it, Sam,” she said, voice soft to cushion the blow of what she was about to say. “She’s left you twice before, so what makes you think she’s gonna stay this time?”
“Hey, I’ve changed, haven’t I?” There was a thread of hurt in his tone.
Her smile was gentle. “Marginally, yes, but I suspect it’s only a temporary change to win her back, not deep-down change to convince her you’re the man for her.”
He pulled into the parking lot of Sandfly BBQ and jerked the hand brake up a little too forcefully, clearly frustrated. “Come on, Shan, have a little faith in me, will you?”
“I’d really like to, Sam,” she whispered, heart racing at the subject she was about to broach, one Sam didn’t cotton to, based on their many conversations. But deep down she knew it was time, and her friendship with him was worth nothing if she couldn’t supply him with the truth. She ducked her head to peek up with the deep affection God had so abundantly deposited into her heart. “In fact I’d like to have a whole lot of faith in you where it counts, Sam—deep down in your soul. Life-changing faith, like the kind we can only get from God.”
He hurled his car door open with a groan that made her smile, practically stomping around the vehicle to open her door as he always insisted on doing. “You’re going to ruin our BBQ if you keep this up—”
She held up a hand before she rose from the car, brows elevated in teacher mode. “No, wait—hear me out, please.” He extended his hand to assist as always, and she popped up, stepping aside to let him close the door. “Einstein said, ‘Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.’ Which is what you’ll be doing, Sam—settling back in to the same old routine that didn’t satisfy her before.”