Seduced by a Shifter Page 10

  She wanted to run her hands through the thick strands and down over the strong cords in his neck. Squeeze those broad shoulders and explore his muscled chest. Then follow it all up with her mouth. And tongue. Mmmmm. And teeth.

  His eyes glinted with heat, as if knowing the erotic images that danced in her head, and was more than willing to be her play toy. Mentally shaking off the NC-17 display, she focused on his answer. “Went to see you after work. Rome told me where you were.”

  Though not as pronounced as her mother’s famous tone, Willow nonetheless recognized the censor in his voice, and it made no sense. Could he possibly be upset she’d gone somewhere and not told him? And if so, what on Earth for? It wasn’t as if they were dating or anything.

  Of course the fact he’d come to see her excited the pants off her. Or would have, if she didn’t currently need them on to keep the icy bench from freezing her butt solid. She did, however, cross her ankles and tuck them under the bench, pressing her legs together to combat against the rush of arousal.

  “You could do worse.” This from Henry, who, instead of looking at Willow, frowned over at Tess as she came out of the cafe, a large plastic bag swinging in her hand. “‘Bout time.”

  “Food’s not for you, Henry.” Tess said.

  The lines on Henry’s forehead only deepened. “Not the food. The getting married.” He shook his head in disapproval. “Not right, all this living together before.”

  Free hand on her hip, Tess glowered. “You really going there?”

  From above Willow’s head, Ben, his amusement apparent, said, “What did you expect, Tess?”

  “Back in my day,” Henry continued, “you stayed true.”

  “What?” Tess gawked. “I’ve stayed true.” She turned to Willow in earnest. “I’ve never cheated on Caleb. Ever.”

  Willow pressed her lips together, holding back a grin as Ben chuckled. “Don’t think that’s what he meant.” His hand at her neck squeezed gently, as if letting her in on the joke.

  “Well. What did you mean?” Tess narrowed her eyes on Henry.

  “You waited ‘till marriage.”

  The plastic bag bumped Tess’s hip as she crossed her arms. “Really? You’ve never been married, have you, Henry? Don’t suppose you’re a virgin.”

  Willow’s gasp at the blunt comment was drowned out by Ben’s muffled snort.

  “No? Guess you subscribe to the double-standard lifestyle then, huh?”

  Henry scowled up at Ben, who was clearly having difficulty holding back his laughter. “Don’t know what you find so funny, boy. Wouldn’t you like your mate to be untouched?”

  Ben choked at the question and Willow froze, suddenly finding the far horizon the most important thing in her life. She didn’t think her heart was even beating, as it was now in her throat as she waited for his response.

  “I’d simply be thrilled to find her.” Ben’s soft response mirrored the gentle kneading of her neck. Too chicken to see what might be reflected in his face, she laid a hand on her knee, rubbing at the ache that wasn’t really there, but in her chest.

  Henry harrumphed, muttering, “And the man always took care of his woman.”

  “Caleb takes care of me.”

  “Not you. Always think it’s about you.”

  Toss closed her eyes and gave a small shake of her head. “I give up.”

  “Sore joints need heat.” Henry nodded at Willow’s flexing fingers.

  A soft curse from Ben. “I was getting there, old man. I was going to ask Will if she wanted to go to the pool.”

  At that Willow perked up, and looked up. “You have a pool?”

  Her eyes dropped to Ben’s mouth when he smiled. It was a damn fine mouth. “Not me personally, but there is one at the school. I thought you might like to go tomorrow evening.”

  “Oh.” Her nose wrinkled. And wade through a bunch of kids?

  “They close it at six on Mondays and Thursdays for cleaning, but I can ask them to hold off for an hour or so. No one will be around if you don’t want them to be.”

  She would love to go swimming. For her, it was akin to the joy of dancing she once felt. And her body, not as agile as it used to be, once again found the grace to move with weightless effort.

  “If it’s not too much trouble,” Willow breathed, unable to keep the wistfulness out of her voice. “I would love it.”

  Ben’s eyes darkened with intensity and heat slashed through her, quick and sharp. Sheer unadulterated need floored her whenever his eyes lit on hers. It was crazy, it should have been impossible, but it simply was, and this time she couldn’t shake it off. It took Tess’s teasing comment to pull her from the brink and fist the hand she’d lifted to touch Ben’s mouth onto her thigh.

  “Whew. I think you two melted the snow in a ten-foot radius.”

  Willow whipped her head around, avoiding Tess’s amused eyes as her cheeks flushed, and missed most of her next words.

  “—have to get Caleb his dinner and Scott’s busy flirting with Barb.”

  “I’ll take Willow back. I have to stop at Victory anyway.” Ben said.

  Willow didn’t respond, too busy fighting another kind of heat. The kind that caused all her female parts to jump with joy. She was going to be alone with Ben, which meant maybe, just maybe, she might get another chance to have his lips on her.

  Hoping to disguise her shiver of anticipation, Willow turned to Henry. “If I don’t see you again, it was nice meeting you, Henry.”

  The old man grunted. “Ain’t going anywhere.”

  Patience was definitely a requirement when speaking with Henry. “But I am.”

  “Maybe will, maybe won’t,” he said cryptically before he cackled again. “Willow. Will again, maybe will.”

  Yep. Some marbles were most certainly missing from his bag.

  As she stood, Henry unexpectedly, and with incredible speed for such an old, frail-looking man, gripped her hand. Shrewd eyes, all-knowing eyes, bored into her surprised ones. “Your name is Willow for a reason. Don’t succumb to foolish thoughts. Your will is strong, your heart stronger still. Listen to it.”

  Flummoxed, Willow stuttered. “Ah. Okay.”

  Only then did Henry drop her hand. “Begone. All of you. Done with the lot.”

  Ben moved around the bench and put a hand to Willow’s back. His smile didn’t reach his eyes; they were too full of speculation. “Come on.”

  Tess was shaking her head as they moved back to the cafe parking lot. “See what I mean? He’s a weird one.”

  And maybe a whole lot smarter than most people believed. But Willow kept her thoughts to herself as she retrieved her purse and followed Ben back across the open area to his truck in the parking lot of the hardware store. Henry had disappeared—fast bugger—as did Joe, who meandered inside the cafe to wait for both Rome’s dinner and for Scott to finish flirting with the town’s pretty postal clerk.

  Opening the truck door, Ben helped boost Willow inside before rounding the front to slide in behind the wheel. He cranked the engine and the heat. Willow noticed there wasn’t a coat for him in sight, but sitting so close she could feel the heat of his body warming the air. The man was a furnace, and no doubt a delight to snuggle up with on a cold winter night.

  Don’t go there. Willow wet her dry lips. Do. Not. Go. There. “Thanks for taking me back.” Her voice was a little raspy. From being out in the cold. For sure.

  He flashed her that grin, the one so charming and sexy it could melt a woman’s panties at twenty paces. “My pleasure.”

  Unnerved, she stared out the window as they left the commercial loop and headed out onto the main street. “So where and what’s this place you said you needed to stop at?”

  Ben pointed a thumb over his shoulder and she looked into the truck bed to see a ladder. “Promised to deliver this to Rose today after work since she doesn’t have a truck.”

  Her jaw tightened, as did her gut. And just who the hell was Rose?

  Almost immediately afte
r the inner snarl she grimaced. She really needed to curb the wild jealousy that flared up whenever Ben mentioned another woman’s name. It was unhealthy, not to mention completely inappropriate.

  So sweet her teeth ached with it, she asked “Rose?”

  “She heads a section of the Mosaic Group at Victory and needs it for a set.”

  None of that meant a darn thing to Willow. “And that means?”

  His phone rang, but instead of answering it, he ignored it, in favor of answering Willow’s question. “Sorry. Victory is a church and the Mosaic Group is the name of the creative arts ministry.” Those eyes sparkled when he turned them on her for a brief moment. “I think you’ll like her. She’s a dancer, not by profession, but by love.”

  “A dancer? Creative arts ministry?”

  Ben nodded. “I know it sounds strange, but there you go.”

  At the next light he turned right, and then left, down a short road adjacent to a large building. There was nothing overly spectacular about it, except for the lack of windows. “This is the church?”

  Ben chuckled. “It’s nondenominational and that particular building is the sanctuary.”

  At her quizzical look he explained. “The sanctuary is where they hold the service and worship. What you’re seeing is the back and side of the main building. The front actually faces the courtyard.”

  He moved through a large parking lot and stopped near twin sets of glass double doors. Even now Willow would never have guessed the building was a church.

  “Oh.” She was a little disappointed.

  Another deep chuckle. “I tell Jackie, Zan’s wife whom you met last night at Tess’s shower, that the building needs some pizzaz. But she says it’s not how the outside looks that’s important. It’s what makes up the inside.”

  Willow made a noncommittal response as she scanned several other smaller buildings. “You go?”

  “Ah. I have. It’s been a while.”

  “Me too.” Willow murmured. “I used to until Mom realized I had an interest and some talent in dance. Then my weekends became too crazy. Dad still goes. At least, he used to.”

  Ben reached out and twined his fingers with hers, resting their hands on her left thigh. “I’m sure he still does. What about your mom?”

  Her fingers flexed. “She’s dead.”

  “Ah hell, Will. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  She turned her head and studied his face, not finding it a hardship in the least. The man was breathtakingly handsome and those gorgeous eyes of his always seemed to be lit with something, whether humor, curiosity, heat, or like now, sympathy. His masculinity and sex appeal was simply icing on the cake.

  “Don’t be sorry, Ben. You didn’t know.” She squeezed his hand once, then lifted it purposely to the middle of the bench seat, untangling their fingers. Returning her gaze back to the nondescript building, and, unable to hide the hurt, said, “Besides, my mother was a selfish woman who was never pleased and ended up drinking herself to death.”

  Chapter Twelve

  His soft sigh filled the cab of the truck, his scent a dark and decadent treat. “Methinks you have mommy issues.”

  She choked out a laugh that sounded more like a sob and went absolutely still.

  His hands were gentle but inexorable as he pulled her around to face him. “I think”—he trailed one finger down her nose to her mouth, his eyes holding a fierce light when she parted her lips—“it’s time for Willow to be pleased.”

  Her heart was so loud in her ears at the sensual remark that it might as well be pounding outside her chest.

  His teeth flashed in his face, a happy grin that confused her. “Perfect timing.” Then he was gone.

  She’d been unconsciously leaning toward him, and would have fallen face first on the place his butt had been only a nanosecond ago if her seat belt hadn’t caught her. Grumbling at Ben’s strange exit, she barely clicked the clasp free when he opened her door.

  “The first phase of pleasing Willow. Join me, won’t you?”

  Startled, she gave him a wide-eyed stare. “Here?”

  “Definitely. Don’t you hear it?”

  Now that she was breathing a little easier, she realized it hadn’t been her heart thudding in her ears. It was the music from inside the church.

  She shot him a suspicious glance. “What’s going on?”

  “Sounds like music to me.” He reached for the ladder, holding it easily in one hand, and reached for hers with the other.

  “Hmmm.” But she got out and shut her door, accepting Ben’s wiggling fingers.

  He led her to one of the glass doors, releasing her hand to open the door for her before she could do so.

  Who said chivalry was dead?

  Inside they crossed a brightly lit foyer and into another set of doors where Ben stopped to lay the ladder against an inner wall. Willow shrugged off her coat, which Ben took from her, and peered around the dim interior. It was a large space, lined with chairs in long, neat rows from the back of the room to within several feet of the stage at the front. A stage where a woman was dancing.

  Ben tugged her forward. “That’s Rose,” he whispered in her ear.

  Moments later, two girls stepped out. All three were dressed in long, airy pants and matching tops. The effect was feminine and graceful, their smooth movements only adding to the beauty of the display. Rose’s long white hair floated and spun like a banner as she twirled, her timeless face marked with joy as she lifted her arms high. The younger girls, probably in their early teens, didn’t have quite the grace as the older woman, but Willow saw what was most important. Their love for dancing.

  It was fun. For all of them.

  The first song slipped seamlessly into another and Willow, entranced, began to sway, her feet subtly mimicking the dancers’ steps. It wasn’t until the music stopped and she caught Ben grinning at her from the corner of her eye. He was five feet away. One of them had moved. “What?”

  That blasted grin only grew wider. “You were dancing.”

  Hard to deny that when her knees and elbows were bent out, her hands together, and her body held at a soft angle. Lips pursed she straightened. “Bite me.”

  His grin only turned dark and dangerous. “Plan on it.”

  Jerking her attention back to the stage, Willow saw Rose speak quietly to the younger girls before stepping to the edge of the stage where she sat, swinging her legs over so that Ben could help her to the floor. “You’re such a dear, thank you, Bennie.” She cupped one cheek and pressed her lips to his other one.

  The nickname surprised Willow, but Ben took it in stride, as he did the easy affection. “Anything for you, Miss Rose.”

  Moving close, he placed a hand low on Willow’s spine. “Willow, this is Rose Willcox. She was my second-grade and fifth-grade teacher.”

  Willow’s brows shot up. “You taught two grades?”

  Rose’s smile was full of gentle patience. “I’m working my way back down now. This was my first year teaching kindergarten and I have to say, the older kids were much easier. Are you new to town, dear? I don’t recognize you.”

  The question was filled with keen interest and Willow thought, ah, everyone in town doesn’t know who I am.

  “No, ma’am. I’m just visiting for a while.”

  “You are most welcome.”

  “Thank you.”

  Rose’s head tilted. “You dance?”

  Willow’s rapid “no” coincided with Ben’s “yes.”

  Willow snapped her eyes to his and behind a fake smile gritted out, “Ben.”

  Ben shot her a cocky and very real smile in retaliation. He seemed to be on the edge of laughing. “Willow.”

  Rose raised a brow, clearly bemused by the two of them.

  “I used to,” Willow finally, and softly, admitted. “But I, ah, hurt my knee and don’t anymore.”

  Rose lifted her hand and touched just the fingertips to the underside of Willow’s chin. “Don’t ever give up what you love. It migh
t seem an impossible task, but if you don’t have what you truly love in your life, well, then, that’s not really living, is it?”

  “Ah.” The way Rose’s lips curled into a secretive smile made Willow want to squirm. “I guess not.”

  Another squirmy moment passed before Rose nodded and turned her attention back to Ben. “The boys are looking forward to Tuesday.”

  “So am I. Just make sure they know to bring warm clothing. Layers are best.”

  A small nod of her white head. “They know but I’ll remind them. It was a pleasure meeting you, Willow.”

  “You too, Miss Rose.” Because despite the woman’s wacky words, Willow did enjoy their brief encounter.

  And loved the music.

  Curiosity rode her hard, but she kept a lid on it until she hopped in Ben’s truck. “So whatcha doing Tuesday night?”

  “No big. Just some ice hockey.” Ben started the truck and drove out of the lot. It had grown full dark, minus the glow of a nearly full moon, and the blue lights from the dashboard played over his features.

  “Ice hockey? For kindergarteners?”

  “Never too soon to learn.”

  “Hmmm.” Not recalling a skating rink on the Tess Tour, she asked, “There’s a skating rink?”

  “No, but the town’s voting next month on it, so we make do. There’s a decent spot of flat land behind the go-kart place. Spray it with water, wait for it to freeze, and voilà. Instant skating rink.” His gaze briefly left the road to look at her. “You skate?”

  She wasn’t going to be diverted by the question. She’d seen the way his lips had firmed, the infinitesimal tightening of his hands on the steering wheel. “A couple times when I was a kid. Why does the lack of a rink bother you?”

  This time he looked surprised when he glanced at her, but he didn’t answer. Not right away. He turned up the winding road to the cabins. “Last year a bunch of kids were skating on a frozen pond. But it wasn’t frozen through. Three fell in. One on top of each other. The first was trapped under the ice until the others were pulled free.”