Chapter 4

It was still snowing.

As Ben sipped his coffee the next morning, he stared out the window and cursed. The longer the snow continued to fall, the longer the delays would be for flights to resume their schedules.

And the longer Darcy Shaughnessy would be in his house.

He’d barely slept a wink last night thinking about her accusations. Have feelings for Savannah? Was she crazy? He snorted with disgust as he answered his own question. Of course she was crazy.

Savannah was a friend. A good friend. He’d never had a romantic or sexual thought about her. Not even once. The first time they met, he was openly hostile toward her. And after that? Well, he grew to like and respect her. But that was it. Unfortunately, Darcy didn’t want to believe that. If there was one thing that was blazingly obvious about her, it was that she seemed determined to stick to her guns.

And she was a major pain in the ass in the process.

Stepping away from the windows, Ben looked at the clock and knew he should get some work done. Not the kind that he wanted to, but the kind he’d been avoiding for far too long.

Paperwork and returning calls.

Worst. Work. Ever.

He made his way to the lower level where he had a small office. Inside was a desk, his computer, several filing cabinets, and—ironically—about twenty-seven thousand pieces of paper he kept meaning to file.

Yikes.

Though he knew he should put a dent in the filing, he just couldn’t muster up the will to do it. Instead, he sat, booted up the computer, and started going through his voicemails.

On a normal day, he spent the bulk of it out in the workshop, working. This stuff? The clerical side of his work? It was a major distraction and one he tended to ignore. Occasionally, he caved and would hire an assistant to get it under control, but he hated having anyone in his home, and by the time he was done explaining what he needed and how his business worked, he could have just done it himself.

He’d lost track of the number of assistants he’d fired in the past three years.

Looking around the room, however, he realized he needed someone to at least get him back to a decent starting point. Because right now, as much as he hated having someone in his home, he hated this clutter more.

He listened to voicemail after voicemail after voicemail of people requesting a new sculpture, some for Christmas. Were these people for real? It was the middle of October, for crying out loud. If they wanted Christmas, they were going to have to think about next Christmas, and even that was iffy. Looking at his calendar, Ben knew he was on the verge of being overcommitted. As it was, he needed a break. An extended one for his sanity alone. And that meant he was going to have to call people and let them know he wasn’t available.

Wouldn’t having an assistant to do this be so much better? he asked himself.

And the answer was a resounding YES!

“Note to self—call the temp agency next week,” he murmured. Sure, he could have written it on a piece of paper, but why add to the pile?

For an hour, he did his best to make notes on who he needed to call, and then he went on to return some emails, and at that point, he was ready to lose his mind. His hands were itching to get out to the workshop and pick up his tools. Unfortunately, he had at least an hour of shoveling just to get to the workshop.

“Living the dream,” he said as he stood and stretched. It was only eight in the morning, but he figured he might as well throw on his boots and coat and get started. It would get him out of this office and doing something productive and physical, which he needed after sitting around for the past few days working on the book with Darcy.

And then that whole thing came to him again. For the past hour, he’d been able to push it from his mind. Eventually, Darcy was going to wake up and come down from the guest room, and he’d be forced to see her and talk to her and… Hell, he had no idea what to expect. Ideally, he hoped she’d apologize.

Then he realized that was not likely to happen.

Glancing over at his phone, he thought about calling Savannah himself, but it was early. He certainly didn’t want to wake her if she had the opportunity to sleep in.

Maybe…

“Oh my God. What happened in here? Were you robbed or something?”

Great.

Darcy was awake.

Turning, Ben saw her standing in the doorway, looking horrified.

Join the club, he thought.

“Good morning to you too,” he said, forcing a smile. “Sleep well?”

Darcy stepped into the room and looked around, the look of horror still in place. “Um, yeah. Great. That bed was incredibly comfortable—way more than the one at the hotel.” Then she paused and looked at the piles of paper on the floor in front of the filing cabinets before looking at him. “Seriously? What is the deal with this room?”

“I’m a little behind on my paperwork,” he said simply and shrugged. “Are you hungry? All I’ve had is coffee this morning, and I could go for something to eat before I tackle the shoveling.”

“Ben, how…I mean…all of this…” She stopped and sighed with exasperation. “How can you work like this?”

Fine. He knew it was a mess—okay, a disaster—but he didn’t like her tone as she pointed it out to him. “I avoid coming in here, normally,” he admitted. “But this morning, I had no excuse, and I was just coming up with a plan of attack.”

“And did you?”

He nodded. “Yup. So no worries.”

“I wasn’t worried,” she said quickly. “I was just making an observation.”

There was a hint of defensiveness in her voice, but he chose to ignore it. Hell, he knew he was sounding the same way. Either way, if she still wanted to argue with him—about anything—then so be it. He, however, wanted something to eat. Without a word, he walked past her and made his way up the stairs to the kitchen. He heard her footsteps behind him a minute later.

“I can whip up some eggs,” he said as he looked in the refrigerator. “I have bacon and sausage if you have a preference.” Turning and looking over his shoulder, he saw Darcy standing by the windows and looking out. Closing the refrigerator door, he walked over and joined her. They stood in silence, watching the snow fall.

“It’s still snowing,” she said quietly.

“It is.”

“How much do you think is on the ground already?”

“About a foot, I’d say.”

“Damn.”

“I know.”

Sighing, Darcy turned to him. “So I’m clearly going to be here for a few days.”

He nodded.

“And I don’t want things to be awkward between us.”

Another nod.

“So…”

Was this it? Was she going to apologize? Ben found himself holding his breath.

“I may have…misinterpreted some of the things you said.”

That was it? Was she kidding him?

“And to show you that there’re no hard feelings, how about I make us breakfast?” she said, interrupting his thoughts. “I know I said baking was more my thing, but I can do some eggs or maybe some French toast or something. What do you say?”

He wanted to say she needed to apologize to him and admit she was completely wrong, but he didn’t. Instead, he put another smile on his face—it felt awkward and forced—and replied, “French toast sounds great. Thank you.”

Darcy gave him a genuine smile.

And it hit him like a solid punch to the gut.

Yeah. He’d forgotten how her smiles affected him.

“Okay,” she said excitedly. “Why don’t you go and do…something, and I’ll get breakfast going. I know you said you have to go out and shovel, but you probably don’t want to go out and get started only to have to come in fifteen minutes later.”

“No, but I can assess the situation. So let’s say thirty minutes? Deal?”

She nodded, still smiling, and said, “Deal!”

For a minute, he thought she was going to hug him. Something in her body language—she sort of leaned in for a second but then immediately pulled back. The only thing Ben could think of doing was to hightail it out of there and find something to do. Fast!

“Good. Um, I’ll see you in a bit then,” he stammered as he made his way to the stairs. He fairly sprinted down them and made fast work of pulling on his boots and coat. There was a utility closet off the mud room where he kept a small selection of snow shovels and a blower. He had a duplicate set out in the garage. It made it easier for him, because the winters in Washington meant they could get snow at any time. And when he was in the workshop, sometimes he needed to dig a path to the house. And then the next morning, he’d need to do it all over again. It just made more sense to keep a set in each spot. Grabbing a shovel, he set out to get started.

When he stepped outside, the freezing temperatures felt like bliss on his skin.

“I’m in deep trouble here,” he murmured, watching his breath float in front of him.

And he wasn’t referring to the amount of snow on the ground.

Darcy Shaughnessy was trouble to, well, just about every aspect of his well-being. He’d been so busy obsessing about how much she annoyed him that he hadn’t allowed himself to think about his initial attraction to her. And now that it was out there again, there was no taking it back.

There was nothing he could do about it right now, unfortunately. So rather than stand still and let the snow build up around him, Ben gripped the shovel and began clearing the entryway. As expected, there was at least a foot of snow to deal with. The workshop was about fifty feet away.

He was going to be at this all day.

And for once, that didn’t seem like a bad thing.

Then he remembered Darcy was preparing breakfast. But he could eat quickly and get out without it seeming like he was trying to avoid spending time with her. And really, he just needed to focus on getting a path to his workshop. If he could get there, all would be right with his world. He could spend all day out there and not have to see or talk to Darcy at all.

She’d probably appreciate that too.

That was all the motivation he needed to get started.

The first shovelful of snow was always the hardest, but once he got started and found his groove, Ben made decent progress. It was a hard, physical task, but after so many days of being still, it felt good to get his muscles moving. With each pile of snow he tossed aside, he felt invigorated. Every foot closer he got to his workshop, he felt hopeful.

“Ben!” Turning, he saw Darcy peeking her head out the door with a big smile on her face. “Time to take a break. Breakfast is ready.”

When he simply stood there and didn’t respond, she looked at him curiously.

“Come on,” she said cheerily. “I’m just getting ready to plate everything and, if I do say so myself, it all looks and smells delicious.” Then she waved before she stepped back inside.

Looking around, he saw he was about ten feet into the path, and even though the snow was still falling, he’d be able to go over his work with relative ease after eating.

Maybe he could just use a broom for that, or the blower, or maybe…

“Ben!” She stuck her head out the door again and laughed. “The snow will still be here after you eat. Come inside and get warm for a little bit before breakfast gets cold too.”

And then like a man walking to his execution, he slowly made his way into the house.

* * *

She was definitely in trouble.

Serious, serious trouble.

Watching Ben shovel snow was just hot. Why the hell did he have to be so damn attractive? Everything about him was starting to be appealing, and she wasn’t sure if it was just her long-dormant hormones coming to life or if the man was just that damn sexy.

Damn romance novels. All of a sudden, she was having these feelings, and it was starting to get a little disconcerting.

Why couldn’t a guy like him be interested in her? Maybe not Ben specifically, but…

A small gasp escaped before she could stop it. Was that what this was all about? Was she upset because she thought Ben had a crush on Savannah, or because he didn’t have one on her? Would she feel this way—be this freaked out—if the whole gushing incident hadn’t happened? If this had just been a work situation and she had found him attractive but he didn’t reciprocate, would she be this worked up? Could she really just be jealous?

“Or is he really that annoying and I’ve got too much time on my hands and need to think about something else for a little while,” she murmured.

Putting the plates on the table, she admired her handiwork. French toast, sausage, warmed syrup, and coffee. She’d set the table and it looked welcoming, if she did say so herself.

She hoped he appreciated it.

From what she could tell about Ben, he seemed to be a bit of a loner who took care of himself. And no one else. There was no evidence around the house that he was involved with anyone.

What kind of woman did he like? Find attractive?

She cursed and was about to let herself get into that stupid mind-set when she heard him trudging up the stairs. Pasting a smile on her face, she stood next to the table and waited for him to appear.

And nearly swallowed her own tongue.

The faded jeans, the thermal Henley with a flannel shirt over it…none of it should have been appealing. None. Of. It. There was a time when, if she had seen a guy dressed like that, she would have made a snarky comment about him looking like a lumberjack. But on Ben, it looked so damn good.

Too good.

Sexy good.

Ben took one glance at the table and then at Darcy and smiled—and it was a genuine smile. He has such amazing eyes, she thought. And when he looked at her the way he was looking at her right now, she could feel herself melting a little bit.

Okay, a lot.

Clearing her throat, she said, “So, um, I hope you’re hungry.”

Nodding, Ben began to roll up his sleeves as he walked over to the sink. With every inch of skin he revealed, Darcy could only stare. Muscled forearms, tanned skin… She forced herself to look away. She heard him wash his hands before he came and sat at the table. She joined him and felt herself beam with pride when he said, “Everything looks wonderful, Darcy. Thank you.”

All she could do was nod.

All her life, her family had complimented her when she cooked or baked, so it wasn’t as if she had never been praised for her efforts, but something about the way Ben said it—the rich baritone of his voice and the look in his eyes—made it feel so much more intimate. And that had her melting a little bit more.

They ate in silence, and she racked her brain for something to say that would get her mind off the sexy thoughts. Midway through the meal, she asked, “So is there as much snow on the ground as you thought?”

He nodded. “And it’s still coming down. Part of me knows this is going to be a battle to get it cleared and shoveled, but if I don’t at least get this first round done, then it’s going to be that much harder when it’s over.”

“Can I help?”

Looking at her with surprise, it took Ben a minute to answer. “You want to shovel snow?”

That had her chuckling. “Honestly? No. I don’t have the boots or gloves and all that to be out there, but I’d be willing to come out for short spurts if it would help.”

Ben studied her for a long moment. Then he shook his head and looked at his plate. “I appreciate the offer, but I think you’d better stay inside.”

She sighed and felt oddly deflated by the rejection. “I don’t mind borrowing some boots and gloves from you,” she explained. “Together, we could make a dent in getting you a path to the workshop.”

He lifted his gaze to hers again. “How…how did you know that’s what I was doing?”

Arching a dark brow at him, she said, “Seriously? You mean besides the fact that you were shoveling in that direction when I came to tell you breakfast was ready?”

He laughed softly. “Oh. Right.”

“You’re probably chomping at the bit to get some work done.”

“I am. It’s been a few days, and I’m behind. Normally, I’d be out there nonstop until I was done.”

“Even in the snow?”

“Especially in the snow. What else is there to do?”

“What if you lost electricity? Does that ever happen?”

Her mind instantly flashed to the couple in the book she was reading last night—they’d gotten snowed in, lost power, and had to snuggle close together with nothing but the heat of the fireplace to keep them warm. Darcy’s eyes instantly flicked over to the massive fireplace. No doubt that thing could keep them warm—especially in Ben’s bed.

“Occasionally,” he said, interrupting her sexy thoughts. “But I have a generator that works on the house and workshop. I don’t use a lot of power tools with my work, so I don’t need the power for that—it’s mainly for the light and the heat. But I have a fireplace out there to help.”

“Wow. That’s…wow.”

He nodded. “I know. I thought it was crazy when I was younger, that my grandfather put one out in the garage. That’s what the space was in the beginning, and then he converted it to his workshop. But now I’m thankful for it.”

“I’m sure.” She turned and looked at the massive fireplace in the living room. “Is it as big as this one?”

“Hell, no. The ceiling isn’t nearly as high out there. And this one? Well, this one is sort of like a masterpiece. The stonework and the mantel…it was a labor of love. The one outside in the workshop is your average, run-of-the-mill brick fireplace.”

“But it gets the job done, right?” she asked with a grin.

“Absolutely.”

They had finished eating, and Darcy stretched. “I am so full,” she said, her hand immediately going to her belly. “I think I ate too much. Again.”

Ben took his last bite and nodded. “Totally worth it. Although I may need to wait a little while before going outside and doing any more shoveling.” He mimicked her pose and then looked at her with a lopsided grin. “Thank you again. That was amazing.”

Darcy could feel the heat on her cheeks and averted her gaze. The man could be lethal with his voice and those eyes and just everything.

Afraid he’d be able to tell what she was thinking about him, she immediately rose and began to clear the dishes. Ben’s hand on hers stopped her.

Now she’d have to add his hands to the lethal mix.

Dammit.

Looking at him, she waited to see why he was touching her.

“You don’t have to jump up and clean up, you know. There’s no rush,” he said. “We can sit and relax, can’t we?”

Honestly? Darcy didn’t think she could. Relax, that is. She felt twitchy and unsettled and so damn mad at herself for thinking she was fine with giving up sex when one touch of Benjamin Tanner’s hand had her practically salivating.

“I, um, it’s just the way I do things,” she said quickly, hating how her voice seemed to squeak. “I know I said I hate cleaning, but I also hate to see a mess just sitting there.”

“That’s what the dishwasher is for,” he countered mildly. “Seriously, sit. Please.”

There was no way she could say no, so she sighed and sat. Swallowing hard, she decided to do her best to distract herself. “Your office is a nightmare,” she blurted out.

Ben laughed.

And then she noticed the stubbled jaw and the strong column of his throat and thought how much she’d like to feel that—with her hands and her lips.

Brushing against her thighs…

This was hell.

Straightening, Ben looked at her with merriment in his eyes. “I should be offended, but you’re right. It is a nightmare, and I don’t have the will to care.”

“But you should. What if…what if you needed to find something? How do you do it? What if a client needs something from you and you have no idea where it is?”

“My business isn’t like that. Most of what’s down there are design ideas, bills, and invoices for supplies and that sort of thing. I hate filing.”

“But how do you handle the chaos?”

He looked at her oddly. “Chaos? I don’t see paper as being chaotic.”

Her eyes went wide. “Seriously? It’s everywhere! On every surface! How do you not see it?”

“I mean I see it, but I don’t look at it and think chaos.”

Maybe that was her OCD then. “It would make me crazy. I like order and knowing everything has its place.”

“It does have its place. It’s just not there yet.”

“Ben, it’s…I mean, come on!” Her tone was light and teasing, but there was part of her that was totally serious.

He shrugged. “It is what it is. I know my strengths and weaknesses, and paperwork is definitely in the weakness category.” Then he studied her for a moment. “I’m sure you have a similar list, so don’t even try to deny it.”

Right now, she would have Ben at the top of her weakness list. It was as if she was no longer capable of thinking of anything other than him and what she found attractive and appealing about him.

And it scared the hell out of her.

For most of her life, she had been impulsive, doing things before really thinking them through. She thought she was getting over that. It was one thing to do it to antagonize one of her brothers, but it was normally for her own entertainment. But she’d learned her lesson—repeatedly—about doing something crazy and then having to live with the consequences. That part of her life was supposed to be done, and she would have told anyone who asked that she was glad to say goodbye to that girl.

Unfortunately, right now, her impulse vibe was pretty much screaming at her to do something. Her skin felt tight and tingly, her throat was dry, and all she wanted was to climb into Ben’s lap and kiss him until neither of them could breathe. She wanted to feel those work-roughened hands on her, feel the scratchy stubble of his jaw abrading her skin… She pretty much wanted him to ease every inch of her that was throbbing.

And that was every inch of her body.

“Darcy?”

What? Oh yeah. They were talking about something. Weaknesses. They were talking about weaknesses.

“Oh, um, I mean, yeah. Sure. Of course I do. But even the stuff I don’t like to do, I couldn’t leave like what you have in your office. It would make me too crazy.”

He chuckled and took a sip of his coffee. “That’s why my office is downstairs. Out of sight, out of mind.”

That was the kind of logic she needed to put into play right now. Get Ben out of sight, and maybe she could focus on something else—anything else—other than hands and skin and getting naked.

This time when she stood, Darcy made sure she was out of his reach.

Instantly, she scooped up her plate and silverware and walked over to the kitchen sink, fairly certain Ben was confused by her abrupt move. But she couldn’t let herself linger too long on that thought. Or of turning around to confirm or deny the expression on his face. Nope. It was better to focus on the task at hand—rinse the dishes, put them in the dishwasher, and keep moving with her gaze firmly looking down.

That was safe.

That was smart.

That was not happening.

Turning around from the sink, she bumped directly into a solid wall of man.

Great.

Head to toe, Ben pressed up against her, and Darcy wanted to rub along him. There wasn’t room for her to move. Her back was against the cabinets and counter, and Ben was all over her front.

Would it be wrong to purr? she wondered.

Slowly, she let her gaze wander up to his face, and the intense expression she found there was enough to cause her to go on hyperalert, if that was even possible.

“Um, sorry,” she murmured, her voice huskier than she ever remembered it being.

But Ben didn’t speak. One arm moved around her as he put his plate on the granite countertop, and when he went to pull it back, his hand skimmed her arm until it came to rest on her hip.

Oh. My.

“I should…I mean…I’ll finish…” she stammered and wondered why she wasn’t trying harder to move away. Or why he wasn’t. Or why…

With his hand on the move again, this time slowly caressing her arm and her shoulder until he was cupping her cheek, Darcy forgot to breathe. His gaze was almost as hypnotic as his touch, and as much as she wanted to keep looking at him, her lids felt too heavy, his touch too good. Slowly, her eyes closed, and she sighed as his thumb caressed her.

At first, she wanted to blame her intense reaction to him on a year of being celibate, but she knew she was lying. Never before had a man’s touch ignited so many feelings—such strong, intense feelings—and now that she knew what this little bit of contact could do, she wanted more.

And now.

His hand stopped moving, and for a moment, she wanted to frown and beg him to continue. A small part of her was a little afraid to open her eyes because she knew—she knew!—he’d be able to read her mind.

Ben whispered her name right next to her ear, and she trembled. His breath was so warm and delicious, and how had she not felt him move in that close? And was it her imagination or did his tongue just gently touch the shell of her ear?

“Yes,” she sighed, so lost in sensation, she didn’t care that it was a plea rather than an answer to a question. Nothing mattered except getting Ben closer, getting his hand to start touching her again and his mouth on her. Anywhere.

But for whatever reason, he wasn’t moving or touching or kissing.

Curious, Darcy leaned back slightly and looked at him. On his face, she saw the same struggle she imagined was on hers. Good to know she wasn’t the only one who was in a total state of confusion.

Two minutes ago, they’d been talking and eating and completely casual. How had they gone from that to this?

This was also a little new to her. Sex—the foreplay part of it—was something she normally needed. And it came in the form of all the usual suspects—flirty words, caresses, kisses. Never before had a mundane conversation over breakfast had her ready to throw down on the kitchen floor.

Which, by the way, she’d be totally on board for right about now.

Her eyes scanned his face as she waited to see what his next move was going to be. Or if he even had one. Could he possibly walk away after this?

After what? she asked herself. A hand on her hip and a full-body press? Um, she was fairly certain he’d be able to walk away, because it shouldn’t be all that she was making it, except…

A slow smile played at her lips, and she arched her back a little and pressed up more intimately against him and felt all the proof she needed that this was more than a hand on a hip move. Her smile grew at the sound of the low growl that emanated from Ben at the contact.

Good to know, she thought.

So what were they waiting for? What was the holdup? Obviously, he found her attractive. Obviously, he was turned on. What did she have to do to get to the good stuff?

And then she knew impulsive Darcy wasn’t going to let this moment pass her by and to hell with the consequences.

With a muttered curse, she snaked her hand around his nape, pulled his head down, and kissed him.

* * *

This was not what he had planned.

Maybe it was what he had fantasized about, but this was not what he had planned.

But the instant Darcy’s lips touched his, Ben was lost. From the first time he’d laid eyes on her, he’d wondered how she’d feel in his arms.

Now he knew. Amazing.

From the first time he’d watched her move, he’d wanted to know how she’d feel moving against him.

Now he knew. Incredible.

From the first time he’d seen her smile, he’d wanted to know what her lips would feel like as he kissed her.

Now he knew. Sexy as hell.

His arms banded around her waist until he made sure there wasn’t even room for a breath between them. She went up on tiptoes to press even more intimately against him—which he totally appreciated—and it allowed his hands to linger and cup her denim-clad bottom.

And what a denim-clad bottom it was.

Gently, he squeezed it and even considered grabbing it harder and lifting her onto the counter, but he wasn’t ready to let go of the full-body contact just yet.

It was insanity. One minute, she was frustrating the hell out of him in a nonsexual way, and the next, he was so consumed with need for her that he almost didn’t recognize himself. This wasn’t the man he normally was. He didn’t pounce; he didn’t even think of initiating anything physical in a situation that was so mundane.

And breakfast was pretty mundane.

When Ben chose to sleep with a woman, there was, well, there was a certain protocol to it for him. There were the required three dates. There was the kiss good night that would build in heat over the course of the dates, and then it was normally at her house. Never here. Never in his bed. His home was just that—his. It was his sanctuary, and he was possessive of it. But right now, all he wanted—almost more than his next breath—was to have Darcy in his bed.

Under him.

Over him.

Another growl escaped before he could stop it.

For a moment, he allowed his lips to leave hers, because he was desperate to taste her in other places. His mouth trailed along the delicate line of her jaw, her throat, and up to nip at her ear, a spot he quickly learned made her knees buckle and had her gasping.

Good to know.

But she wasn’t having any of it for long. With her hand firmly anchored in his hair, she let him know the instant she wanted to kiss him again, and he went willingly. Over and over, his mouth slanted over hers until he thought he’d simply consume her. Tongue tangled with tongue. Breath mingled with breath. Never had the act of kissing seemed so carnal. So indecent and so damn erotic.

And that’s when he knew standing at the kitchen sink was no longer cutting it. He needed her. Wanted her. And from the sounds she was making and the way she was moving against him, Darcy felt it too.

This time when he reached down and cupped her ass, he lifted her up onto the counter. Stepping in close until he was firmly pressed against the juncture of her thighs, he cursed their clothes. Cursed the fact that the nearest soft surface was so damn far away. And cursed the fact that she tugged at his hair as she pulled away from him.

“Ben, wait,” she panted.

Well, shit.

A little dazed, he forced himself to open his eyes and focus on her. Her lips were wet and red and a little swollen, and her skin was flushed.

So. Damn. Sexy.

Resting his forehead against hers, he took a minute to catch his breath.

Was he supposed to apologize? Step away and start shoveling? Hell if he knew, but he was going to stay quiet and let Darcy say whatever it was she was thinking. So he didn’t move, and once his breathing was back to normal, he almost felt as if he was holding it.

“What are we doing?” she asked quietly.

Was she serious? Those were some fairly obvious moves going on, on both their parts. How could she be questioning it? And on top of that, she was the one who had initiated it. Lifting his head, he looked at her.

“I thought we were kissing,” he said simply.

She blushed, and it was sexy as hell to see. His fingers twitched with the need to touch her cheeks and feel the heat there.

“I…I know, but…I guess I’m just a little confused as to where that all came from.”

She was confused? Because now he was a little beyond that himself. Taking a step away, he frowned. “Why don’t you tell me?” he began levelly. “Since you were the one who reached up and pulled me into the kiss in the first place.”

The blush was instantly replaced by a look of mild annoyance. Darcy jumped from the counter, placing her hands on her hips. “I guess I got caught up in what I thought was a moment. I mean, you came over and crowded me into the cabinets and then started touching me—out of the blue, might I add—so I guess I thought you were into it too.”

Oh yeah. He had forgotten about that part. Once she had reached up and kissed him, Ben had pretty much forgotten about his own actions leading up to it. “Fine. Yes. I came over here and—” He stopped and cursed, raking a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I’ve wanted to do that since you first showed up here.”

Her eyes went wide. “Yesterday?”

He shook his head. “No. When you first showed up four days ago.”

She blinked at him in confusion.

Taking a step toward her, he said her name. “I mean it. When you got out of the car, and I saw you for the first time, I thought—”

She held up a hand to stop him. “You know what? Don’t. You don’t need to say something you don’t mean. It’s okay. Really. It was probably a mistake. We should just forget about it.”

“But I do mean—”

“You need to go out and shovel so you can get to your workshop, and I need to get this mess cleaned up.” And instantly, she sprang into action. As she fluttered around rinsing dishes and placing them in the dishwasher, she chattered on almost without taking a breath.

“I was thinking of doing some baking while you’re outside doing your thing, if that’s all right. It will help pass the time. I saw you have all kinds of options for dinner, so if you have a preference, let me know, so I can take that out as well.”

“Darcy…”

“Oh, and if it’s all right with you, I’d like to do that load of laundry. You’ll need to tell me where the laundry room is, and I meant what I said last night. I’ll take care of anything else you have to put in as a way of saying thank you and so I’m not wasting the water on such a small load of clothes.”

Ben watched in fascination as she moved around, and it seemed that in the blink of an eye, the kitchen was clean, and there was nothing but silence around them. And it was beyond awkward.

“Oh, and I’ll probably work on the book stuff too at some point.” She paused. “So is all that okay with you?” she finally asked after a long moment.

There was nothing wrong with anything she was asking of him. She wanted to bake? Great. He’d reap the benefits of it. She wanted to take something out for dinner? Wonderful. They were going to need to eat. She wanted to do some laundry? He had a couple of towels, a pair of jeans, and a shirt he could add to the load.

But none of this interested him. At all. He wanted to go back to talking about the kiss. Why was it a mistake? Why did they have to forget about it? And why couldn’t he just haul her into his arms and do it all again?

One look at her face, and he had his answer.

She wasn’t comfortable with it.

And as much of a bastard as Ben knew he could be, the last thing he would ever do—ever!—was force himself on her. Or anyone. What had made their kiss so damn incredible was that it was mutual. The heat and the need was on both of them. But right now? The only thing coming from Darcy was a sense of vulnerability and uncertainty.

Not a good combination.

So he’d let this go.

For now.

Swallowing hard, he gave a quick nod. “Help yourself to anything you need.” He looked around and let out a small sigh. “As for dinner, there’re some steaks in the freezer, and we can do them on the grill like we did the other night. I don’t mind using it in the snow. So if you’re good with that, they would be my choice.”

Darcy nodded.

“And as for the laundry, it’s downstairs next to the office. I have some things I wouldn’t mind tossing in, and I’ll put them in the washing machine on my way out.”

And before he did anything like beg and grovel for another taste, he simply walked away.

* * *

The laundry was going.

She’d made enough cookie dough for several dozen cookies and baked a cake.

And she was slowly losing her mind.

Yeah, her usual happy place—baking in the kitchen—was so not cutting it right now. She’d used up most of the basic ingredients and knew if she kept going, she was going to have to get creative. Why the hell had she stopped Ben earlier? Right now, she could be naked and satisfied in that amazing bed of his and feeling completely at peace, and instead, her fingers were coated in cookie dough and she was frustrated.

Good plan, Darce.

Okay, he’d scared her. Or maybe she’d scared herself. It was all just so intense. So…everything. She felt consumed and hot and bothered, and her heart had felt so damn full that she’d almost had a panic attack over the whole thing.

What the hell was that about?

Sex! She was just supposed to want sex! It would be a great way to pass the time, get out of her slump, and move on. Why had emotions gone and gotten in the way? Or worse, her heart. She wasn’t that girl.

Or at least she had thought she wasn’t that girl.

Rinsing her hands off, she walked over to the kitchen table and sat with a sigh. Wasn’t this exactly what she had been worrying about a week ago at Riley’s house? She wanted to feel like this. She wanted to be wanted like this.

She just didn’t think she wanted it with Ben.

And what was so wrong with Ben?

Um, the whole crush on Savannah thing, she reminded herself. But then instantly, she pushed that aside. He had a point last night, and so did Anna. Darcy knew she was flirty with some of her guy friends, and it had nothing to do with being attracted to them.

Right now, she needed to come to grips with why she was being so closed-minded about Ben.

He was sexy, attractive, considerate—he had saved her from being stranded in an airport in a storm—and when she wasn’t arguing with him and actually let herself relax and have a conversation with him, she found he was funny and someone she enjoyed talking to.

Looking around, she took in her surroundings and sighed. There was the whole he looked a little like a lumberjack and lived like a mountain man thing, but was that so bad? Probably not. She wasn’t looking for forever with him. Maybe she was looking for a hot and heavy fling.

And boy, did she want to get flung.

For hours at a time.

And after discovering how Ben kissed and how she responded to those kisses, Darcy had no doubt that getting flung by him would be incredibly satisfying.

So how did she get them to that place? How did she approach him when he came inside after shoveling and let him know she would be agreeable to…flinging?

“Ugh,” she murmured as the timer on the oven went off. Rising, she walked over to her baking station and started rolling the dough into little balls to place on the baking sheets. “I need to come up with a better metaphor than that.”

Rather than obsess on euphemisms, she simply let herself get into the groove of getting the cookies formed and onto their sheets. It was mindless work and the perfect distraction at the moment. Once she had everything ready to go, she began placing things into the oven and setting timers and starting her cleanup.

This was good.

This was what she needed.

Part of the problem was that she’d stayed up late reading sexy snowed-in stories. It was feeding her imagination.

At least partly.

Ben being sexy as all get-out was feeding the rest.

And she was just going to have to wait and see what she could come up with where Ben was concerned.