She could claim to hate his nickname, but they often locked horns.
“Fine.”
He pushed off the counter and strolled toward the back room, letting the pull of the invisible string lure him toward the younger man beckoning him.
= ♥ =
Ben started over again. He couldn’t focus on counting, not while sensing the presence of the man still in the other room. He didn’t dare look to see if he had left. The fantasy was a safer bet. The man was alluring. Captivating. And the more Ben had stared, the faster his heart beat.
But something had angered the large man. It was enough for Ben to hightail it out of there. Over the years, he had learned to detect that telltale moment before someone lost it. And he had learned how to escape quickly and not become collateral damage. He hadn’t even known what he had done, but he knew enough to not stick around and find out. Besides, he had a job to do.
He blew out a frustrated breath. He had lost count. Again.
Maybe it would be best to section off sets of the inventory, then count off those sets. He reached into the shelf and grouped the inventory into sets of five, then counted off the number of sets. Finally. He reorganized the items back the way they were and did the same for the next shelf, thankful he could focus again on basic counting.
Until he couldn’t.
His arm froze above one of the jars. The air had shifted like a drop in pressure before a storm strike. With his heartbeat pounding in his ears, he peeked over his shoulder. Ben slowly withdrew his hand from the shelf and waited, staring into those dark eyes again—rich brown in color.
He waited some more. For the first time in Ben’s life, he felt the uncomfortable weight of a stare. He didn’t want this man assessing him, breaking him down into a list of positives and negatives. Is this what people think when I stare at them?
Ben looked down at his clipboard and checked off another item. Work. That was what he needed to focus on.
Returning his attention to the shelf, Ben grouped the stock into sets again, trying to keep count. One shelf, then another. Once finished with that pantry, he moved on to the next. Turning, he spotted the man still standing by the door. Nothing had changed but his stance. Leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets, he was the textbook example of casual. His head was cocked to the side and a half smile pulled his stubble into that dip in his cheek.
That dimple would have a big fantasy puzzle all by itself.
The man didn’t speak, but it almost seemed as if he were waiting for some reply. Even though Ben’s stare remained firmly on those brown eyes, he didn’t miss how those full, wide lips remained sealed shut. The man just…waited. Watching.
Note to self: stop staring at people, because this is super weird.
Ben turned and busied himself, unsure of what to do or what the man wanted. He glanced down at his clipboard and frowned. He had gone through the entire inventory and had completed his task. He stole a quick peek through his lashes, unable to resist. The man had ducked his head as he kicked one boot with his other.
Ben had missed something. That much was obvious. He looked up at the man just as the mystery man raised his chin and made eye contact again. Something…sad…blew across his features. A weak smile tried to pull the man’s lips but failed. Ben wanted that dimple to make a reappearance.
After a barely noticeable nod, the man pushed off the doorframe, turned, and walked out of the room.
An ache bled through every limb in Ben’s body. He clutched the clipboard to his chest, needing something to ground him. Those last few seconds before the man had left the room were telling. They revealed another side to him. He wasn’t the cocky, flirty man who chatted with Natalie. But a man who was vulnerable. It had been a brief glimpse, one the man had obviously tried to disguise, but just enough for Ben to detect.
People spoke with more than their words. And over the years, he had learned to pick up on all the subtle cues.
He had missed something.
He should have scribbled a note on one of the sheets on his clipboard. He should have waved, smiled, done something other than stare like a damn pervert. He