baking last week, he loved his time at the shop and was thankful Natalie had found tasks for him to do until he healed.
He had met with the counselor Matt called to the house after what had happened. Although nearly back to his usual self, he wasn’t one hundred percent good to go yet, but he wouldn’t deny having the strong support system around him, and David out of the house, made a world of difference. Natalie promised they would resume baking lessons Monday morning if his hands had healed. After four days, even he was surprised at the speed of his recovery.
After checking off another line item, Ben shut the door of the storage closet and moved to the next set of cabinets.
Movement to his left caught his attention.
A broad-shouldered man with shaggy hair entered the bakery. He towered a few inches over six feet, but it was his build that stole Ben’s attention. He must have been around two hundred and forty pounds of muscle. Muscles that seemed to be shaped and carved from intense physical work rather than gym vanity. Every thread of his black T-shirt stretched across his wide chest. His biceps were thick, defined, and powerful, yet soft and natural.
Ben took a slow steadying breath, gripping the clipboard tightly in his hand as the man approached Natalie with a prowl-like gait, owning his size and weight with authority.
He could text Aidan in a heartbeat. He should text Aidan.
The man’s face and arms had a series of scratches and narrow strips of tape that looked like they were holding together some of the deeper cuts. It should have been alarming. Flags should have been waving and warning lights flashing.
But they weren’t.
It was something…else. And whatever the heck it was, it tingled every centimeter of Ben’s body. He instinctively reached for his phone when Natalie’s eyes narrowed. But the hint of smile peeking through her expression forced Ben to shove his phone back into his pocket.
The man leaned over the counter and pressed a kiss to Natalie’s cheek.
Ben sighed, bothered for some reason he couldn’t understand. He should be thankful the man wasn’t a threat to Natalie, the store, or him. He should go back to work and stop staring. It was a terrible habit he had broken while inside. But if he looked away, he would miss a detail. Miss the way the scruff of a few days’ growth couldn’t hide the defined squareness of the man’s jaw. Or the single dimple on his cheek or how his lips were full and wide. Full enough that they didn’t thin when he smiled broadly at Natalie.
The man took her hand as she rolled her eyes. He raised her hand to his lips and then pressed a kiss to her skin like some storybook prince trying to charm his princess.
Ben inhaled sharply and straightened, fighting back the sudden heat rising in his chest. Flinching, he looked down at himself, surprised how his body responded to the man. Turns out his back wasn’t the only thing that had stiffened at witnessing the slight show of affection. Sprouting a boner at his job wouldn’t make a good impression. Especially if said boner was because of the man fawning over his boss.
His shoulders slumped. For the first time in his life, he didn’t want to stare.
A vivid imagination had been the key to his survival, his source of sanity for most of his life. He watched people—occasionally to the point of their discomfort—and observed their behavior, tells, tiny gestures, and details most people often missed. With each observation, he took away a tiny piece to remember. Then, he would lose himself in the fantasy, assembling the memory pieces into a montage of perfection.
The perfect family who would be at his side, welcoming him with open arms.
The perfect group of friends who would include him in their circle and never betray him.
The perfect guy who would try to understand him, accept him, and love him.
A wistful exhale escaped. What would it be like if he were in Natalie’s place in that moment? What would it be like to have those full, wide lips pressing against his hand?
Or his neck. His mouth.
He…shouldn’t look. Staring isn’t polite. But he couldn’t…not look. He needed another piece for tonight’s memory puzzle. The rarity of that man and the reaction he triggered compelled Ben to steal another glance…to stare and memorize every centimeter of his body, the way he carried himself, the way his lips fluidly moved