was less from cold and more from him.
Which he was just enough of a posturing alpha to appreciate.
Especially when she leaned close and buried her face in his throat, her lips grazing his skin, her soft exclamation of “Kryptonite” reaching his ears.
Ben laughed. “I was thinking the same thing.” A beat. “Well, that and along with needing a third person to chuck the stick so I could kiss you properly.” She giggled, and he found his fingers in her hair again, the soft locks dancing along the back of his hand. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Though I could do without another Fred dousing.”
Speaking of which, the pooch came back with the stick and Ben scooped it up, throwing it before he had the chance to stop and shake.
“Smart man,” Stef teased.
He laughed. “I occasionally can be,” he said, slipping his hand from her hair and wrapping it around her shoulders when she wiggled closer. “But usually, I just get lucky.”
“What do you do, anyway?”
This was the part that always got dicey and uncomfortable and . . . people just got weird when they found out that he ran Hunt Inc. It was too big, too often in the news, too strange knowing he was the brains of the giant conglomeration, that it—and he—was worth that much.
She sensed his hesitation. “Never mind,” she told him. “You don’t have to tell me if it makes things awkward.”
Except, it was one of the most innocuous questions she could ask him, wasn’t it?
It was also an important one.
Something he needed to share if he wanted to have her in his life. Because that was what this came down to, wasn’t it? She’d sent that text, giving him the way out, and he had known in an instant he hadn’t wanted that. He wanted her, had wanted her from the moment he’d spied those red lips, from the short conversation, hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, in all honesty.
He hadn’t even stopped to think when she’d said she couldn’t get a ride.
He’d just known it had to be him.
Same as the movies, the food, those moments with Sweetheart . . . the sex. The car.
Him. Him. Him.
“I work at the lab”—she named one of the big biotech firms in the area—“with my friend, Heidi. Well, really, she’s my boss, but she kind of bullied me into being her friend when she realized that I was alone here and things with Jeremy—”
He stiffened.
She glanced up at him, her eyes going wide. Then they narrowed. “Forget you heard that.”
Not a chance in hell.
But he didn’t comment as her coffee-colored eyes remained on his, continued glaring at him.
“You’re not going to forget that, are you?”
He just lifted his brows.
“You’re not,” she muttered. “Well, anyway, Heidi took me under her wing, and then it wasn’t just Fred and me any longer. We had Kate, Cora, and Kelsey—they’d all been friends since college. We also got Tammy, who’s Kate’s sister-in-law who moved to town not long ago. And Kels’s fiancé, Tanner, Kate’s husband, Jaime, and Heidi’s husband, Brad. Brad and Jaime are brothers and Tammy is their sister, and they’re just all really nice people. Kate’s mom, Marabelle, is the one who owns the cosmetics company . . .”
Ben could admit this was the point that he began tuning out, just began watching those lush lips move, throwing the stick when Fred came back, and wondering how long it would be until he could kiss her again.
Stef realized that. Or at least she realized that she’d lost him in the sea of names. Probably, she wasn’t all that aware of the need burning through him, not his shirt conveniently placed over one bent leg.
Sweats would be dangerous around this one.
“Sorry,” she said, so softly he could barely hear her over the crash of the waves. “That was a lot to throw at you.”
He tugged her a little closer, smothering a groan when her palm brushed his thigh. “I’m probably not going to remember all of those names,” he admitted, “but I like hearing you talk.”
Her brows shot up. “You like . . . hearing me”—her voice squeaked here—“talk?”
Ben couldn’t resist brushing a kiss over her forehead. “Yes.”
“Just to clarify,” she said. “Me?”
Laughter bubbled up in his chest, burst out of him. So fucking cute. “Yes,” he said again, bopping her lightly on the nose. “Squeak aside, you have a pleasant voice, and I’m glad your boss bullied you into friendship.”
Stef’s eyes went wide, concern drifting into those coffee-colored depths.