Call Her Mine (Harmony Pointe #1)- Melissa Foster Page 0,1
her into the going-nowhere scribblings of the present.
She tried to pry his fingers off her again and said, “Time to wake up, Benny boy.”
He groaned, tightening his hold.
“Ben!” she snapped, irritated with herself for falling into her old ways so easily. She’d moved into her apartment above the bookstore two weeks ago in an effort to be in before Ben’s sister Bridgette’s wedding, which had taken place two days ago. That was her deadline for her fresh start, her own new chapter.
I sure screwed that up.
Ben startled awake and peered over her shoulder. “Sorry, Rels. I didn’t mean to grab your boob again.”
Right, you didn’t mean to. Thanks for the reminder. “Whatever.” She sat up, and he hauled her back against his chest, making her laugh despite herself.
“I love waking up with my best bud by my side,” he said. “Even if she is cranky in the morning.”
“I’m not cranky.” She eyed the bottle of tequila on the table and sighed inwardly. She knew better than to drink with Ben. They laughed and drank and always ended up crashing together—never in the way she wanted, despite the fact that he’d bought her a toothbrush for his house months ago. She wondered how he explained that to his one-night stands. She knew he had them, but in truth, she had no idea if they came home with him or if they always did the deed elsewhere. Her stomach sank.
It was time for this to end once and for all. “We can’t drink tequila anymore,” she said adamantly.
“Okay, next time we’ll get Jack and Coke.”
“Maybe we need to stop drinking when we watch movies,” she said half-heartedly, because she loved their comfy, fun evenings. But being friend-zoned with Ben made her feel pathetic, so she said, “I do have a new apartment to inhabit.”
“For the record, as glad as I am that you found such a great investment, I hate that you’re not right around the corner anymore. And you did it all so fast, Rels. One day you’re driving Flossie home, and the next you announce that you’re moving to Harmony Pointe.”
She’d driven through Harmony Pointe on her way back from taking her grandmother home after her grandfather’s funeral, and when she’d stopped at a red light, she’d seen a FOR SALE sign on the door of the corner bookstore, which was called Chapter One. It had felt like a neon sign screaming at her to move on with her life, and she’d made an offer that day.
“Well, apparently all it takes is one call and I’m right back in your living room,” she said, trying not to make too much of his comment.
“Because that’s what friends do. They keep each other company.”
Friends. The greatest buzzkill of all.
He began kneading her shoulders. He had the biggest, strongest hands. Magic hands. She’d fantasized about them slipping beneath her clothing, caressing, groping, and teasing until she was wet and wanting—
“See? You need this in the mornings to take the edge off,” he said in a low voice, snapping her out of her fantasy.
She turned her head to see his face, and her heart stumbled. Ben hadn’t always had the chiseled face of a model. His cheeks had been a little full until he’d hit his twenties, as if his body had refused to give up that last trace of boyishness, especially when he’d smiled. But he’d kept the hint of dimples, and a playful grin never failed to make its way up to his dark eyes. Those seriously sexy eyes could smolder the panties off a woman as easily as they could command a boardroom. She imagined they made him a master negotiator in the bedroom, too. And don’t get her started on his lips . . .
“You’re all tight again,” he said, still rubbing her shoulders.
Reality hit her like a freight train. What was she doing? Her bestie was a venture capitalist and had gotten lucky with investments when he’d first gone to college, and he’d been getting lucky with random women ever since. Except he’d never tried a damn thing with Aurelia, and he’d had plenty of chances.
Then again, she hadn’t tried anything with him, either, and she was no wallflower. Aurelia didn’t exactly shy away from making moves on men. But with Ben, things were different. Complicated. The Daltons were her second family. Ben’s four sisters were her best girlfriends, and then there was this sizzling, teasing, almost-but-not-really thing between her and Ben. Besties. Drinking buddies. Ben and Jerry.