Cara Colter - Propositioned by the Playboy

“Okay,” he said. “Hillary, then.” But Hillary hadn’t had a moment of wonder for at least twenty-five years, and he didn’t feel in the mood for worldliness or cynicism.

Pam had always been light-hearted, but he knew he’d find her giggling grating after the day Miss Maple had been hi-jacked by the compactor and he had heard her laughter. And seen her crinkle her nose.

“Okay,” he said, annoyed with himself. “I’ll call the guys.”

But lately the guys were on a campaign to get him back in the game, as they called it, and the very thought of that made him feel more tired than a day of pouring concrete.

The truth was, once he stopped talking out loud, Ben thought the house felt oddly empty without Kyle. Ben had become accustomed to the bass boom in the background, the squeak of the refrigerator door, the feeling of being responsible for something other than himself.

For a man who had never even succeeded at looking after a houseplant, the fact that he had taken to his guardian duties was a surprise.

Maybe he was maturing. Becoming a better man.

But then he thought of how he’d behaved this afternoon at Beth Maple’s, and he didn’t feel the least bit proud of himself.

“I think I will rent a movie,” he said out loud, and reached for his jacket. At the movie store he picked up Jackals of the Desert a movie with a military theme, and a rating that would have never allowed him to watch it with Kyle, even though Kyle rolled his eyes at his uncle’s adherence to the rating system.

But before he got to the cash register, he turned around and put the movie back on the shelf. There, under the bright lights of the video store, Ben faced the truth about himself.

He was trying to run away, fill space, so that he didn’t have to look at an ugly fact about himself.

He’d hurt her . He’d hurt Miss Maple.

And he’d done it because telling her his sister was not going to make it, and feeling her hand rest, ever so slightly on his arm, had made him come face-to-face with a deeply uncomfortable feeling of sadness about his sister, and vulnerability toward Beth. He didn’t want to face his feelings. He didn’t actually even want to have feelings, messy, unwieldy things that they were.

So, not facing his feelings was nothing new, but hurting someone else?

Not okay.

Especially not okay because it was her.

By taking on the tree house project, Ben was trying to repair the damage that had been done to her, not cause more.

All she’d done was touch him when he’d told her Carly wasn’t going to make it. But something in that touch had made him feel weak instead of strong. As if he could lay his head on her lap, and feel her fingers stroking his hair, and cry until there were no more tears.

No wonder he’d lashed out at her. Cry? Ben Anderson did not cry. Still, he could now see that it had been childish to try to get his power back at her expense.

“Man up,” he’d said to Kyle when Kyle had been trying to shirk from the damage he had caused.

Now it was his turn.

He went out of the video store, and was nearly swamped by the smell of fresh pizza cooking. He hadn’t eaten yet.

And that’s how it was that he showed up on Beth Maple’s doorstep a half an hour later with a Mama Marietta World-Famous Three-Topping Pizza and a six-pack of soda.

Beth opened the door, which gave him hope, because she’d peeked through the security hole and clearly seen it was him. But then she had folded her arms over her bosom like a grade-five teacher who intended not to be won over by the kid who had played hooky.

She was wearing a baggy white shirt and matching pants, that sagged in all the wrong places. Pajamas?

The outfit of a woman who did not get much company of the male variety by surprise.

And that gave him hope, too, though what he was hoping for he wasn’t quite ready to think about.

So he thought about why he had come.

“Peace offering,” he said, holding out the pizza box so she could see the name on it. Nobody in Cranberry Corners could resist a Mama’s three-topping pizza. “And apology.”

“Where’s Kyle?” she said, peering into the darkness behind him.

“No Kyle tonight.” And lest she think he was an irresponsible guardian, he said, “Kyle’s at the planetarium, with Mary Kay somebody.”

“Ah. I have to say I didn’t see that one coming. Or this one.”

She was speaking to him. After he’d been thoughtless and cruel and insinuated no one would break down a door to kiss her.

“Are you going to let me in?”

“I’m going to think about it.”

“You know something, Miss Maple? There’s such a thing as thinking too much.”

“Probably not a problem in your world, Mr. Anderson.”

“Not generally.”

And then her lips twitched, but she still didn’t open the door.

“Okay,” he said, “I’m getting the fact that somehow you are finding me resistible, but Mama’s pizza? Three-topping? Come on.”

“What three toppings?” she said.

“Mushroom, pepperoni and the little spicy sausages.” He could see her weakening at the mention of the sausages. Which under different circumstances could be quite insulting to a man like him. She could keep the door shut to him, but not sausages?

“There have to be some rules in place,” she said.

“There’s such a thing as too many rules, too.”

“There’s the whole thing about dating family members of my students.”

“This isn’t a date!” he protested. “It’s a pizza.”

“Well, there is the complication of the kissing that you brought up earlier.” She blushed when she said it.

“Okay,” he grumbled. “I won’t bring up kissing.”

“You can’t even think about it. Since we are unchaperoned this evening.”

“Miss Maple, you cannot control what I am thinking about!” Especially now. Because she’d mentioned it, and his male mind had locked in on the delicate curve of that puffy bottom lip.

Suddenly this whole thing seemed like a really stupid idea. What had he come here for?

To make amends or to steal kisses? What did you do with a gal like Miss Maple once the pizza was gone? Play chess? Who on earth used the word unchaperoned if they were over the age of twenty-one?

“Look, I’ll just leave the pizza. With an apology. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings this afternoon. By insinuating a man wouldn’t break down your door to kiss you. Because the right man probably would.” He was making a mess of this somehow.

“You just said you weren’t going to bring up kissing!” she said.

“But then you said I couldn’t even think about it. Which is ridiculous.” What man wouldn’t think about it in close proximity to those lips? “Miss Maple, there’s an elephant in the middle of the room. We can’t just pretend it’s not there. Maybe we should just get it over with.”

“What?” she squeaked. “Get what over with?”

He sighed. He couldn’t believe he’d actually said that out loud. “Do you want to share the pizza with me or not? It’s getting cold. I’m not asking you if you want to build a cabin in the wilderness with me and have my babies, for God’s sake, just because I find your lips, um, provocative.”

“I don’t think it’s wise for you to come in,” she said.

“I agree, but let’s live dangerously.”

She contemplated that, as if inviting him in would rate as the most dangerous thing she had ever done.

He better remember that when he was looking sideways at her damn provocative lips. She didn’t know the first thing about how to handle a man like him, despite her claim that her door had been knocked down for kisses before.