That was fast.”
Technically, Sally was just being dramatic. But if that’s what Ben wanted to believe, then let him.
“Ben, don’t be jealous,” Sally scolded. “You are just going to have to accept the fact that you officially missed out on your chance with our Chloe.”
There was a tense silence, except for the crackle of the log in the fire and the muted sounds of the band warming up indoors. After a long moment, Ben took a step forward and clapped Chloe on the back. The heat of his hand seemed to burn through her shirt.
“Sally, I think it’s great,” he said. “I thought she was just going to ignore every man on the planet until she opened her practice.”
Chloe looked at him, surprised. “I’ve never said anything like that.”
Ben tugged at the rim of his baseball cap. “It’s not what you said,” he mumbled. “It’s how you act.”
In some ways, he was right. Her schedule had been so packed for the past few years that she hadn’t had time to give to anybody. But if there had been a guy really worth it, someone that she could really be herself around, she would have made the time. Other than Ben, no one fit the criteria.
“You’re hardly a person qualified to decide whether or not I’m open to love,” she told him. “You don’t even know the definition of the word.”
Ben ripped off his baseball cap. His blond curls shot out in nine different directions. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, goody.” Sally jumped up and down. “Fight. Fight! The band hasn’t even started playing yet and it’s getting real out on the patio.”
Chloe clapped him hard on the back, just like he’d done to her. His muscles were taut beneath his soft T-shirt. “I’ve seen the way you fall in love.”
Ben scowled. “And how’s that?”
Chloe gave Sally a knowing smile. “Ben is all whispers and innuendos. But at the end of the day, he goes out of his way—even enlists my help—to send girls far, far away. Do you think that sounds like an expert on love?”
Sally laughed, clapping her hands. “Poor Ben. We’ll help you find somebody, one of these days.” The muffled sound of electric guitars shot out from the club. “Ooh, they’re starting. Shall we?”
As they walked into the club, Chloe could feel Ben glaring at her over the top of Sally’s blonde curls. She turned to glare back, then stopped in surprise. The look he was giving her wasn’t angry at all. It was . . . hurt.
“I’m sorry.” He leaned in close, so that only she could hear. His voice was low, his breath warm against her ear. “I should have called.”
Her heart clutched. Yes, of course he should have. Ben was her best friend. It was so ridiculous that they’d stopped talking because of one stupid kiss.
After a moment, she shrugged. “It’s fine. Next time, right?”
He pulled his cap low over his eyes. “Yeah.” He leaned against the back wall and settled in to watch the band. “Next time.”
Twenty-four
Taking a deep breath, Kristine let herself into June’s house. It was Thursday night and she was late. Even worse, she’d skipped two Thursdays in a row. June got the hint, though, and finally left an apology message for ambushing Kevin.
Straightening her shoulders, Kristine followed the sound of laughter to the kitchen. “Hi, everybody.” Dropping her purse on the table, she hugged them. “I’ve missed you guys.”
June was stiff in her arms. “How nice of you to join us.” She plucked Kristine’s purse off the table and stomped off. Hopefully, she was going to place the purse in the basket in the living room instead of throwing it out into the street, as she’d probably prefer to do.
Chloe giggled. “It’s a good thing you’re here. Grandma would have had a conniption if you skipped again. Here, pick an apron.”
There were several options on the table. Yellow stripes, navy and white flowers, green polka dots . . . Kristine settled on one with embroidered bluebirds and pulled it over her head.
“What are we doing tonight?” An array of cooking utensils were set on the counter, along with a bag of flour, a carton of eggs and a variety of herbs and spices. Maybe June had hired a pastry chef.
Chloe grinned. “Making homemade pasta, in honor of your trip to Italy.” Whispering, she added, “Grandma’s trying to prove that she’s happy for you. She thinks you think she’s mad that you’re going. Have you been avoiding her or something?”
Kristine