Chapter 5

The damn snow just kept falling.

Every muscle in Ben’s body ached, and he knew the only thing he was going to accomplish by staying outside was getting a case of hypothermia. With a sigh of disgust, he walked into the house. As much as he wanted to get at least a small path to the workshop, Mother Nature was refusing to cooperate, and he couldn’t fight anymore.

Plus, he was too damn distracted to put the effort he needed into the task.

Darcy.

As soon as he closed the door behind him, it was like she was everywhere. The hum of the washing machine, the smell of freshly baked cookies… Even if he didn’t know she was there, he would know she was there. It was a very domestic scene and one that should freak him out, and yet it didn’t.

It comforted.

It soothed.

And dammit, he instantly had images of her waiting for him upstairs in nothing but an apron and maybe some lace and high heels and…

Where the hell did that come from?

“I’m losing my damn mind,” he muttered as he slowly peeled off his snow-covered coat and gloves. His hands were mildly numb, his jeans were soaked, and it was almost painful to sit on the bench to pull off his boots.

“Hey, I was… Oh my God! Are you okay?” Darcy cried as she stepped into the mud room. She instantly dropped to her knees in front of him and swatted his hands away from his boots. “Let me do that.”

Ben was too tired to argue. If anything, he suddenly felt more fatigued than he had a minute ago. Leaning against the wall, he let her remove his boots, and then she did the same for his socks.

“You are soaked to the skin! What were you thinking?”

“I was trying…I needed to…” Hell, even speaking felt like it required a herculean effort.

Slowly, she pulled him to his feet. “Come on. Use the shower here, and get warmed up. I’ll go upstairs and get you dry clothes and make you something hot to drink. Just please go and get under the hot water or something.” She led him into the bathroom and had the shower turned on before he could respond. Steam began to fill the room.

“Do you need any help?” she asked, but he heard the hesitation in her voice. A few minutes ago, his answer would have been an enthusiastic “Hell yes,” but right now, all he could do was shake his head. “I’ll be right back,” she said and then fled from the room, closing the door behind her.

It took him longer than he would have liked, but he stripped and stepped under the shower spray. It stung like a son of a bitch, but it didn’t take long for him to adjust and simply relax. Damn. What had he been thinking? He’d purposely stayed out there longer than he knew he should have, and he could have hurt himself because of it.

And for what? Because he was hiding from a beautiful woman?

Yeah. That made sense.

He lathered up and rinsed off and simply gave himself the chance to enjoy the water before he shut it off. It was amazing how much better he felt. Reaching out, he found two towels stacked on the vanity, grabbed one of them, and began to dry off. Darcy knocked softly on the door, and for a moment, Ben froze.

“Ben? Are you okay?”

“I’m good,” he replied, his voice a little gruff.

“I…I have some dry clothes for you. I’ll leave them outside the door.”

Actually, he had been hoping she’d come into the room, but he supposed it wasn’t the best time for that. “Thanks.”

He waited a few minutes before stepping out of the shower and getting the clothes. When he opened the door, he had no idea where she was, and he didn’t linger to find out. He grabbed the clothes and got dressed. When he stepped out of the bathroom, he headed for the stairs. But then he stopped when he heard a noise in his office.

Stepping into the doorway, he froze.

It was clean and organized and…

And that’s when he spotted Darcy sitting on the floor in the corner, sorting through a pile of paperwork.

“What the hell are you doing?”

She looked up at him as if he were crazy. “What does it look like? I’m organizing your office.”

Ben stepped into the room and began to look around frantically. “Darcy, you can’t…you shouldn’t…dammit!” He raked a hand through his damp hair in frustration. “You have no idea what I do or how I want it done. How the hell am I supposed to find anything now?”

Rising with a sigh, she walked over to his desk. “First of all, this is my thing.”

“No,” he interrupted. “It’s not. This is my office. My business. My stuff.”

She looked over her shoulder at him and rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that, doofus. What I meant is organizing office stuff is my thing. I’ve done it for my dad and his business and helped my brother Aidan with his business too.” She shrugged. “It comes naturally to me.”

Walking over to stand beside her, Ben rested a hip on the desk and tried to control the rage he felt. “Darcy, you had no right to come in here and touch anything. I had it under control. Somewhat. I mean, I know it needed to be organized, but everything was in a place where I knew where it was.”

The look she gave him showed she knew he was lying. “Really? And you feel like your system was working for you?”

Now he had to try to save face, so he crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. “Yup.”

“Okay, then,” she began, and he knew instantly she was prepared for this response from him. “So tell me this—were you aware that you have not one, not two, but three checks for large amounts of money sitting on your desk that you have yet to deposit?”

“Three?”

“One of them is dated over a month ago,” she said, picking it up and waving it at him. “This check is for almost ten grand. Are you telling me you are so financially secure you can afford to have this much money sitting here collecting dust?”

“Well, no. But—”

“And this one is for eight, and the third is for about five. So you’re looking at over twenty grand sitting on your desk because you couldn’t take the time to do your paperwork or go to the bank.”

“It isn’t any of your business,” he snapped.

“And then there’s the phone.”

He sort of stopped and stared at her for a minute. “The phone?”

She nodded. “It rings. A lot.”

He groaned, almost growled. “Please tell me you didn’t answer the phone.”

“Of course I did. It wouldn’t stop, and it was getting annoying.”

Straightening to his full height, he towered over her in hopes of intimidating her.

It didn’t work.

“Oh please. I have five brothers who are all as big as you. Save the effort,” she quipped. “Anyway, you had three calls from people looking to have you do work for them—new homes, unique pieces, blah, blah, blah. I told them you were booked well into next year, and if they were interested to email you their specs, and when you had a free moment, you’d look at them.”

“Darcy—”

“But the phone was not the best way to reach you,” she went on. “They all thanked me and mentioned they had each left several messages for you that you haven’t returned.”

“I listened to the messages.”

“When?” she asked with a knowing grin.

What was the point in all this, he wondered. “So now they’re all going to email me?”

She nodded.

“I won’t get to the emails any faster than the phone messages,” he told her, feeling he had trumped her in some way.

“Sure you will. You can check email on your phone. Set a reminder on it for each day at a certain time, and see what’s new in your inbox. I can help you with that if you don’t know how. It will only take a few minutes, and you can start getting caught up so you don’t get so behind again.”

“I’m not behind—”

“You are so totally behind that it’s not even funny,” she said and then laughed for emphasis. “Besides the checks, I saw several of the invoices for work you’re currently doing. They had notes on them—I’m assuming from you—and they’re not closed out.” She picked up several papers from his desk and held them up to show him. “And from the dates on them, they are close to being due. I haven’t seen any updates on either paper or your computer or—”

“You went on my computer?” he yelled and then had to step away from her because he was ready to throttle her. “Do you have any concept of boundaries?”

“Of course I do,” she said mildly and began stacking up the papers she had showed him and putting them in neat piles. “The system you use isn’t very complicated, and if you want my opinion—”

“I don’t.”

“—you need a better program for keeping track of all this stuff. Something where you can incorporate not only your specs and design and notes but also the financials. I think I can find one that will work for you and won’t be hard for you to use. Are you good with computer stuff?”

Was she serious? Didn’t she see how he was using a Word document for everything? Of course he wasn’t good with computer stuff. He didn’t want to be good with computer stuff. Hell, the last thing in the world he wanted to do was computer stuff.

“By your lack of response and the scowl on your face, I have my answer,” she observed. “So I’ll make a note to find something very basic.”

“Darcy, I don’t want you finding a program for me. I don’t want you cleaning the office for me. I don’t want to change the way I do things. And finally, I don’t want anyone touching my stuff. You have the book to work on. That’s it. The rest of this is off-limits. Do you understand?” Ben was almost breathless by the time he got all that out, and he let out a ragged sigh and went back to leaning against the desk. And instantly regretted his outburst.

The room did look a hell of a lot better than it had hours ago.

He had forgotten about those checks.

And really, this was one big mess that he no longer had to deal with.

So why was he so upset, again?

When he dared to look over at Darcy, he expected to see defiance. Or outrage. Or anger.

He didn’t expect to see hurt or those big, beautiful eyes filled with tears.

Shit.

He instantly straightened and went to go to her, but Darcy quickly swiped at her eyes and turned away.

“You know what? You’re right. I’m sorry. This was all very presumptuous of me. I…I was bored, and I thought you wouldn’t mind me coming in here and doing this. I could tell you were overwhelmed with all of it, and I just wanted to help. I’m sorry.”

“Darcy. No. I—”

“It’s okay. Really. I…I need to go and make a call. I’ll see you at dinner,” she said as she brushed past him and walked out of the room.

Ben’s immediate reaction was to let her go, give them each time to cool down before he apologized.

“Screw that,” he murmured and went after her.

She must have run up the stairs, because he didn’t catch her on the flight up to the main floor, and by the time he was at the foot of the stairs to the second floor, he heard her bedroom door close. He took the stairs two at a time, and at her door, he didn’t even knock.

Maybe it was rude, or maybe it was his turn to be presumptuous, but he didn’t care. Darcy Shaughnessy had been turning his life upside down for the better part of a week, and he was tired of it.

Tired of the constant roller coaster of emotion.

Tired of second-guessing himself.

And so damn tired of simply fighting with her. And himself.

She gasped when the door flew open, and she turned to face him. But she said nothing. Good. He didn’t want her to talk. Didn’t want to hear what she was thinking right now. He wanted to say what he had to say and then deal with the fallout.

“I was wrong,” he said, his voice strong and firm. “What you did down there was…it was exactly what I needed and didn’t want to admit I needed. I don’t like asking for help. I don’t like needing help,” he corrected. “Every day, I tell myself I can do it all, and every day, I know I’m lying.”

One lone tear trailed down her cheek, and it nearly brought Ben to his knees. But he stayed where he was, because touching her right now would certainly be too much of a temptation.

“I don’t know what it is about you that makes me react the way I do. I’m normally a little more civilized. I know you might not believe that, and the history you have of me would certainly be in opposition to that statement, but… I may not be the most eloquent man or the most polished, but for crying out loud, I never argue with someone the way I do with you.” He paused. “You make me crazy, and I have no idea why.”

They were silent for a moment, and Ben hoped she would say something. Respond in some way so he had a clue about where he stood.

Finally, she did. She wiped a hand across her cheek, and her voice was so small, so quiet, he almost didn’t hear her. “It’s me,” she said. “It seems to be the way most people react to me.” She shrugged and looked at the floor. “I don’t know why. I don’t know why I bring that side out in people, and I wish I didn’t. I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought I was doing something good. Something nice. I thought I was helping.”

She was gutting him, and she didn’t even know it, he thought.

Unable to help himself, he moved closer. And kept moving until he was able to wrap her in his arms and simply hold her close. He felt her shuddery sigh as she relaxed against him, and God, if she didn’t feel good. He kissed the top of her head and simply enjoyed the feel of her in his embrace.

He looked around the room, unable to believe the transformation it underwent in less than twenty-four hours. She had stuff on every surface—jewelry, lotions, scarves. On the nightstand was a stack of paperback books and a tablet. But most of all, the room smelled of her perfume. Of her.

At that moment, he could have easily tilted her head and kissed her senseless. It was what he wanted more than anything. He wanted the woman he had tasted earlier, the woman who had both melted and ignited in his arms. It would be so easy to do, and there was a bed not even five feet away.

But instead, he decided that it wasn’t the right time.

“What kind of cookies did you bake?” he asked softly.

Darcy lifted her head from his chest. “What?”

“The whole house smells like freshly baked cookies. Tell me what you made,” he said with a lopsided grin.

“Well, I made chocolate chip, peanut butter, and chocolate spice, and then I baked a cake.”

His smile grew. “What kind of cake?”

“It’s a good one—devil’s food. You had about three boxes of it, so I figured you must like it.”

“It’s my favorite.” He paused and studied her face. “Which icing did you use?”

“I went for the overkill,” she said with a hint of sass. “The milk chocolate. You had many, many, many cans of it.”

“Sometimes I eat it right out of the can.”

“A man after my own heart,” she teased, and then it didn’t feel quite so much like teasing. The atmosphere in the room changed in a heartbeat.

There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that if he leaned in and kissed her, he’d get the exact response he most wanted from her.

And he still opted to be the gentleman.

“Let’s go and have a slice,” he said as he took her hand in his and led her from the room.

* * *

The instant Ben’s hand wrapped around hers, Darcy’s decision was made.

There would be cake.

Later.

They walked slowly to the kitchen, and as she made her way over to the island to go through the motions of serving them each up a slice, Ben didn’t let go of her hand. Finally, she looked at him, one hand on the plate, the other in his, and one brow arched. “I’m going to need that,” she said with a sexy grin.

Never before had the slide of a finger across her palm felt so erotic.

Lethal.

The man was positively lethal.

She took the lid off the cake plate and revealed her chocolate masterpiece. It seriously looked good and, well, maybe a little taste right now wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world they could do.

Just as she was about to turn to grab plates and forks, she saw Ben move. One arm snaked out as he swiped a finger across the top of the cake, effectively grabbing a large dollop of icing. Darcy’s eyes immediately met his, even as her heart simply kicked hard in her chest.

Ben’s gaze—more heated than she’d ever seen it—told her exactly what he wanted from her, and right now, Darcy was more than willing to give it.

Leaning forward, she let her tongue trace the line of his finger before she took a taste of the sweet confection he was offering. It was a little bit of sensory overload—the saltiness of his skin, the sweetness of the chocolate, the heat of it all—and it left her breathless. When she looked up at Ben’s face, his eyes were closed, and she could feel him vibrating with a low moan of pleasure.

She knew exactly how he felt, because she was feeling it too.

When he opened his eyes, he gently pulled his hand away from her and finished the rest of the icing that was on his finger, and then it was Darcy’s turn to moan.

“Next time I taste that,” he said thickly, “it will be to lick it off you.”

And that was all she could take.

Later, it would be hard to say who made the first move, and honestly, she didn’t care. All she knew was that Ben’s arms were around her, his mouth was on hers, and everything suddenly felt right with the universe. He lifted her, and Darcy wrapped her legs around him. Without a word, he immediately began to walk toward his bedroom, and all she could think was yes. With her hands anchored in his hair and her legs locked around his waist, every move kept them close.

The friction was delicious.

As if in the distance, she heard the bedroom door close, and for a second, she could almost see him kicking it shut. At the side of the bed, he didn’t so much as lay her down as he simply followed her to the mattress. One minute, they were upright, and the next, they weren’t. Ben stretched on top of her; the full-body contact was even better than she could have ever imagined. He was so big and hard and strong, and yet he was so careful not to crush her.

But then he moved, and Darcy had no choice but to open her eyes. He was sitting up, straddling her, as he unbuttoned the flannel shirt he was wearing. Her hands twitched to help him or to rip the shirt open herself, but his gaze held her pinned in place. He peeled it away and revealed a thermal shirt under it, and she almost couldn’t help but laugh at her frustration at all the layers he was wearing. As if reading her mind, he began to chuckle too.

“Had I known this was happening when I got dressed, I would have skipped a layer.”

“Good to know,” she replied breathlessly and silently cheered that she had far less to remove when they got started.

As soon as the thermal was gone, Darcy reached up to touch him. She wanted to sit up and kiss his chest, which was perfectly sculpted, but his position on her prevented that. So she squirmed enough to make him shift, and once she could move, she immediately began raining kisses on his heated skin. Ben fisted her hair in his hand and gave her a minute before he gently tugged her head away.

“One of us is still overdressed,” he growled.

It was on the tip of her tongue to say they both were. He had only taken his shirt off. She wanted—needed—more skin-to-skin contact. Without even thinking, Darcy reached down and tugged her sweater up and over her head and flung it across the room. Ben’s nostrils flared, and for a moment, she regretted not letting him be the one to remove it.

His hand left her hair and immediately came around to cup her breast.

“I pictured you in lace earlier,” he said as he watched his hand move over her curves.

“Really?”

He nodded. “When I came in from shoveling and the whole house smelled of your baking, I imagined you in an apron and lace and stilettos.”

She smiled up at him mischievously. “That’s a pretty specific image.”

He nodded again. “And if there were any way to make it happen right now, I’d take you out to the kitchen and do it.”

The wheels in her mind were already spinning.

“No stilettos,” she replied with a pout. “But everything else…”

Ben seemed to be considering it but then shook his head as he gently pushed her onto her back and stretched out over her. “Later,” he said as he lowered his head to her breast. “Much, much later.”

* * *

Darcy was sprawled on her stomach beside him as Ben traced lazy circles on her back. All he could think of was how soft her skin was.

And how she had completely rocked his world and turned it upside down.

Her eyes were closed, and he had a sneaking suspicion she was asleep, but he didn’t want to say or do anything to break the mood or the silence. And honestly, he needed a moment to wrap his brain around everything that had happened.

It wasn’t as if he was a virgin or a prude, but sex for him was more of a…well, it was a good and pleasurable act. End of story. What he’d experienced with Darcy was all of that and…damn. He didn’t even have something to compare it to.

Under his touch, she slowly stretched and made a low humming sound.

And just like that, he was turned on again.

Darcy turned her head and looked at him with a sleepy smile.

He was in serious trouble.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Hey, yourself.” Without thinking, Ben simply shifted them until she rolled over and was tucked in at his side. There was so much he wanted to say and yet not say. The silence was comfortable, and honestly, he was already letting his hands roam up and down her back and her arms, and the softness of her skin was enough to entrance him.

With a small kiss on his chest, she looked up at him. “So…”

Clearly, she was a talker. But rather than respond, Ben arched a brow at her and waited.

She settled against him. “I guess you liked the cake, huh?”

That was the last thing he expected her to say, and he lost it—completely laughed out loud. When he felt her body shaking with laughter beside him, he decided Darcy Shaughnessy brought something to his life he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.

Excitement.

Laughter.

Joy.

“Technically,” he began after a moment, “I never got to taste it.”

“There was the icing,” she corrected. “And you did mention how you tend to eat more of that than anything.”

“It’s really good icing.”

Shaking her head, she made a tsking sound. “Clearly, you’ve never had real icing.”

Ben lifted his head and looked at her. “Are you telling me there is something better out there than icing in a can? Because I’m finding it hard to believe. That’s been my dirty little secret for years.”

In a move he didn’t see coming, she chuckled and then shifted to straddle him until they were chest to chest. “That’s your dirty little secret?” She shook her head. “We’re going to have to work on that.”

Now it was his turn to shake his head. “Uh-uh. That’s the extent of keeping secrets for me.” His tone went serious, more so than he had intended. “I don’t do secrets. My life is an open book. I enjoy my privacy, but what you see is what you get with me. No lies. No pretense.” He paused. “No games.”

The playful expression was gone as she considered him.

“I wanted you from the first moment I saw you,” he said, carefully watching her reaction. “It bothered the hell out of me when your attitude toward me changed, but it didn’t stop the want.”

“So this was to prove—”

“No,” he immediately interrupted with an edge to his voice. “This wasn’t about proving anything. This happened because I find you fascinating and beautiful and sexy as hell. This happened because you’re all I’ve been able to think about.” One hand anchored in her tousled hair and gripped it lightly. “And it’s going to happen again, because I love the way you feel in my arms and when you’re completely wrapped around me.”

He pulled her head down and kissed her with a ferocity he didn’t recognize in himself. And when they broke apart, panting, Ben positioned her so her forehead rested against his.

“And I love the sounds you make,” he stated. “And I want to hear them again.”

Darcy’s gasp was soft, her eyes wide. Ben could tell she was trying to come up with something to say, but he didn’t want that. He didn’t want her coming up with something she thought she should say—he wanted her honesty. The kind of thing that would simply slip out unfiltered.

So rather than wait, he kissed her again. Rolled her beneath him.

And did his best to keep her from thinking of anything other than him for the next several hours.

* * *

“And you’re sure you’re fine? I mean, I know it’s got to be weird and all.”

Darcy looked across the room to where Ben was sitting and reading later that night and had to stop herself from sighing happily. He was in a pair of faded jeans and nothing else, and there was a roaring fire beside him, and all she could think was yum.

“Uh, Darce? You there?”

Oh. Right. Riley was on the phone.

“I’m fine. And this is way better than being stranded at the airport,” she said lightly. “I’ve done some reading, I’ve baked—”

“I feel guilty,” he said miserably.

Just then, Ben looked up and smiled at her—a sexy smile—and she could feel herself blushing. “Well, you shouldn’t.”

“What’s going on with you?” he demanded.

“What do you mean?”

“That was the perfect opening for you to throw a guilt trip at me. You never miss an opportunity to do that. If you have to, speak in code. If you’re in danger, say something about…wildflowers. If you’re hurt, say something about salmon. Or…or if you need me to send in an emergency helicopter, say something about…about…shit! Say something!”

“Are you having a stroke?” Darcy asked mildly. “Because you sound like you’re stroking out.”

Riley muttered a curse. “Look, I’ll admit sending you to Washington seemed like fun, but I had no idea you’d get stuck there. I’ve met Ben, and I like him, and I’m sure you’re fine, but…I don’t know. You seem distracted.”

He had no idea.

“I’m fine. The snow is still coming down, and honestly, I gave up trying to watch the forecast. It will end when it will end, and then I’ll deal with finding a flight home.” She shrugged even though she knew he couldn’t see her. “And I’m willing to wait a few days, because I know there are going to be thousands of people trying to do the same thing. Dad knows I’m safe, and Aidan doesn’t need me at the office, so I can let the masses deal with the craziness first.”

“So you’re going to go home and not come back to us?”

“By the time I can leave here, it would almost be pointless to add an extra leg to the trip. We’ll catch up at Christmas, right?”

“Absolutely,” he said, and Darcy could almost hear the smile in his voice. “Savannah and I tossed around the idea of not going home for Christmas, but how could we miss it? Aislynn should spend it with all of her cousins, and I think it’s going to be amazing to have everyone together under one roof.”

“And crowded,” she joked.

“Well, we won’t all be sleeping under one roof. Aidan and Quinn have houses close to Dad’s, so we can spread out at night. But think of Christmas morning with all of the kids!”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s going to be wild, that’s for sure. Dad’s so excited about it, and he’s been in such a better mood since he and Martha got back together. Longest three months of my life.”

“I know. I was talking to him earlier, and you’re right. He sounds good. Content. Not that he was ever not, but I know their breakup was a little hard on him.”

“It was. And as much as we all reminded him that, you know, he hadn’t dated anyone in over thirty years and not all couples stay together forever, I could tell he missed her. She’s so good for him, and I hope they do stay together forever. He deserves to be happy again.”

“It’s still a little weird,” Riley said cautiously. “I know you don’t understand it, but—”

“I get it. I do. But the fact remains that Dad is entitled to a life of his own where he’s just Ian Shaughnessy and not everyone’s dad. You all moved on and had relationships, and you don’t think it was hard on him?”

“It’s not the same, Darce.”

“Maybe not exactly, but he had to get used to his children becoming adults and starting lives of their own. We need to respect him and allow him to have a life of his own. And if that life involves someone other than Mom, then we need to let that happen.”

“Wow. When did you become the voice of reason?” Riley mused. “I think the mountain air is getting to you.”

“I have my moments,” she replied and smiled when Ben winked at her. “So, um…yeah, everything’s good. I’m fine and I’ll let you know when the weather breaks and I’m heading home, okay?”

“Behave yourself. Don’t give Ben any grief. Please,” he teased.

It would have been very easy to get into a debate on her giving people grief, but Darcy was done talking to her brother. What she wanted most was to be off the phone so she could crawl into Ben’s lap and make love in front of the fire.

“No worries,” she said distractedly. “Give Aislynn a kiss for me, and I’ll talk to you soon.”

And with that, she hung up. But she didn’t move right away. Instead, she let herself relax in the oversized chair and look her fill.

Ben’s admission earlier about wanting her from the first moment he saw her was a heady thing. No one had ever admitted to wanting her like that, and Darcy had to admit she liked it. And now that she had a moment, she also had to admit there were a lot of things she liked about Ben.

A. Lot.

How could she have misjudged him so badly?

Maybe misjudged wasn’t the right word, but when she moved beyond those initial concerns about him and Savannah—which she knew would always lurk in the recesses of her mind, no matter what—at the core of it all, Ben was an incredible man.

And an incredible lover.

It didn’t take long for Darcy to realize she’d merely been with immature men, practically boys, up until now. The skill and attention Ben put into making love to her? Her skin was still hot and tingly from it. Sex with a man who knew what he was doing was fan-freaking-tastic.

“What are you smiling about?” Ben asked from across the room.

Why keep it to herself? “Thinking about you.”

His smile grew as he put his book aside and studied her. “Anything in particular about me?”

“A whole lot of particulars,” she replied, rising from her chair. All she was wearing was his flannel shirt, and even though it was big enough to hit her midthigh and be a dress, she still felt sexy in it as she slinked across the room toward him. Playing the seductress was never something she excelled at, but watching Ben’s eyes heat up the closer she got? Um, yeah. She could totally get on board with doing more of this.

Ben shifted on the sofa so Darcy could place her knees on either side of him, and as she rested her hands on his bare shoulders and moved in close, she hummed with pleasure. One of his arms banded around her waist to hold her to him.

“You’re looking pleased with yourself,” he said as his gaze zeroed in on her lips.

“I was enjoying the way you were looking at me.”

He gave a low chuckle as he reached up and unbuttoned the top button of her shirt. “And I was enjoying watching you,” he replied, toying with the next button. “Plus, you look good in my shirt.”

That made her smile. “I have to admit, this is the first time I’ve worn flannel, and so far, I’m enjoying it.”

Ben laughed again. “Sweetheart, I have a whole closet of it, and I think you should wear nothing but this until the snow clears.”

“I thought you mentioned something about an apron and some lace?” she couldn’t help but tease.

“Hmm, I don’t know. I think watching you walk around in my shirt pretty much pushed all those other images aside.”

She tilted her head to the side with a dramatic sigh. “Damn. And I was thinking of making dinner like that.”

“I’ll make you a deal. Tonight we can do flannel, and tomorrow, we’ll reconsider our options.”

A throaty laugh was her immediate response. “Oh, we will, will we?”

The hand that was still in her hair tightened slightly, and Ben’s smile turned a little bit predatory. “Definitely.”

Right then and there, she would have agreed to anything just to hear that deep growl in his voice and to keep that look on his face. Squirming slightly in his lap, Darcy let out a low moan of her own before agreeing with him. “Okay.”

The word was barely out of her mouth when Ben captured her lips with his. God, she loved how he did that—swooped in with no warning and devoured. So damn good. She kissed him with equal need, heat, and hunger. Tongues dueled and tangled. Hands scraped and scratched and soothed. Over and over until Ben lifted her and maneuvered them until Darcy was on her back on the sofa.

She almost wept with gratitude when his body covered hers.

Legs wrapped around his waist as he yanked the flannel open—sending buttons flying in every direction. Darcy cried out as his mouth left hers to latch onto her breast.

So good.

Her head turned to the side as she panted his name, and when she opened her eyes, all she could see was the snow falling. In the darkness with only one light on out on the deck, it was a complete whiteout.

And all she could think was how if she had her way, it would go on snowing forever.

* * *

After lunch the next day, Darcy was in Ben’s office. He had finally cleared a path to the workshop—after they had worked together to make it happen—and Ben was working on one of his sculptures. Not that she minded. Right now, the silence and the time alone felt like a good thing.

She was tired and sore in the most delicious of ways, and she respected the fact that he needed to work. After they’d made love on the sofa the previous day, Ben had made dinner for her and then taken her back to bed.

And she seriously loved his bed.

Besides the incredible amount of detail in that particular piece of furniture, which still amazed her, his bed was beyond comfortable. She’d slept like a baby. When Ben had let her sleep. Just thinking about all the times they’d woken each other up in the night had her feeling all warm and tingly.

A feeling that was almost a constant where he was concerned.

Filing away the last stack of paperwork, Darcy looked around with a sense of accomplishment. The office looked amazing. And organized. Before Ben had gone out to the workshop, she had asked him if she could finish what she’d started the day before. He apologized profusely for the way he had reacted, and looking back, she completely understood why he had said the things he’d said. She had overstepped the boundaries, and even though her heart was in the right place, it didn’t mean that others would take it the same way.

Lesson learned.

With all the surface areas cleared along with the floor, Darcy made quick work of dusting and vacuuming. Once that was complete, she sat at the desk and went online to research computer programs to help Ben out, something she had gotten his permission for as well.

An hour later, her eyes were starting to cross from staring at the computer screen for so long. Standing up, she stretched and decided to go upstairs and grab something to drink. The view out the back windows when she got up there showed that it was snowing again. There had been about two hours after breakfast where it had finally stopped, and there was well over two feet of snow already on the ground.

Maybe the thought of more snow should have bothered her, but it didn’t. If anything, it had the complete opposite effect on her. It made her happy. The longer it snowed—the more accumulation there was—the longer she could stay in this amazing little cocoon she and Ben had created. Of course, there was a very real possibility Ben wasn’t feeling quite the same way, but she had a sneaking suspicion he did.

He was intense. In everything he did, and even though she could see it and knew how he sometimes fought it, it made him the man he was. He was interesting and funny and talented and… She sighed.

He was a perfectly flawed man.

That description made her smile, because she knew he wouldn’t appreciate the title, but it was true. He wasn’t perfect—no one was—but the man he was was perfect in his own way because of those flaws.

“Yikes,” she murmured as she put the kettle on to boil. “I am making no sense whatsoever.”

She moved around the kitchen and grabbed a mug and a tea bag and then went to look out the window as she waited for the water to boil. Her eyes immediately went to the workshop. Should she bring Ben something to drink? Eat? Would he get upset if she disturbed him while he was working? These were things she needed to know. The last thing she wanted to do was upset him, and she knew he was used to being here alone without any disruptions.

But she missed him. Wanted to see him and talk to him.

Behind her, the kettle came to a boil. With a small sigh, she made her tea and then sat at the kitchen table and contemplated her options. She was curious about Ben’s work. Sure, she’d seen pictures, and looking around his house, she saw what he was capable of, but the thought of being in the workshop and seeing him work and watching him create made her feel a little giddy.

“Okay, stop obsessing and just go,” she muttered. It didn’t take long to make a travel mug of coffee for Ben and transfer her tea to one as well. Then she grabbed a small container and put a variety of cookies in it. “Who doesn’t enjoy a good coffee break, right?”

Practically skipping down the stairs, excitement bubbled up in her. She slipped her boots on and then her coat and stepped outside. It was freezing cold. A shiver racked her body, and she made quick work of following the path to the workshop.

She knocked lightly before opening the door and peeking inside. Ben was standing on the far side of the room staring at the sculpture in front of him. Quietly, she came into the room and closed the door behind her, but she didn’t go to him. If anything, she wanted to wait and see if he noticed her and if he would welcome her.

While she waited, Darcy scanned the room. There was a huge variety of tools; some were large machines like saws and sanders, and there was an entire wall of hand tools. The smell of sawdust was a little overwhelming but not unpleasant. On a table, she spotted a sculpture of an eagle. Its wings were spread, and it stood easily three feet tall and equally wide. The details were so true, so spectacular, that she wanted to reach out and touch it, even as she was afraid it would fly away. “Holy crap,” she whispered.

“Was that a good holy crap or a bad one?” Ben said from across the room.

Looking over at him, Darcy couldn’t help but smile. “Holy crap good,” she replied. “That eagle is…it’s breathtaking, Ben.” She wanted to go to him but was still afraid to move around in his space.

Without a word, he gave a nod and then looked at the sculpture in front of him—a ten-point deer bust. She was a little confused—most people who hung those in their homes were hunters. Why would someone want a wood sculpture of a deer rather than one they had killed?

“Come here,” he commanded softly.

Swallowing, Darcy carefully made her way across the room. There was sawdust on the floor, and she was afraid to get too close to the power tools. When she was at his side, she handed him the mug of coffee.

“Thank you,” he said before leaning in and kissing her distractedly, his eyes almost never leaving the deer. “What do you think of this?”

Shit. The last thing she wanted to do was critique his work, even if it was amazing.

“I brought you some cookies too,” she said instead. “You know, in case you were hungry and ready for a break.”

Ben took the tin from her hands and placed it on the workbench beside him.

“Darcy—”

“I know you missed several days of work and might not stop what you’re doing to get something to eat or drink. I didn’t want to bother you though. Kind of agonized over whether I should come out here. But then I thought I could drop off the coffee and cookies and go and leave you be and—”

“Darcy—”

“I’ve got a stew going in the Dutch oven. It’s starting to smell really good in there. Maybe I’ll bake some biscuits or something,” she said and then chanced a look at him. “That will work, right?”

Ben sighed and took a sip of his coffee, and she couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or amused with her ramblings.

“Maybe I’ll see if you have the makings for some bread. I can make bread bowls! Ooh, those are great with stew. I should have thought of that sooner. Bread can take a while and—”

“So you’re not going to answer my question,” he stated, effectively interrupting her.

Her shoulders sagged with defeat. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Why?” he asked. There was no accusation or condemnation in his tone; he seemed genuinely curious.

She shrugged.

Putting his mug down, Ben faced her, tucked a finger under her chin, and gently forced her to look at him. “What do you think of this deer?”

She looked at him for a moment and then at the bust. “Can I ask you something first?”

He nodded.

“Why would someone want a bust of a deer made of wood? Don’t hunters usually want these things to be the actual ones they’ve killed?”

He nodded again. “Normally? Yes. This particular client is married to a woman who refuses to allow it. She does not want dead animals hanging in the house. Personally, I don’t blame her. So they’ve compromised. He can have a trophy room, but the trophies need to be sculpted. I’ve done several pieces for them already. He doesn’t hunt anymore, but he liked the idea of adding exotic animals to the collection just for the beauty of them. I thought it would be ridiculous, but when I saw the room put together with the first few busts, I got the vision and understood what he was doing.”

“That sounds kind of cool.”

“I have pictures I could show you.”

Her eyes lit up. “I would love that!”

“After you answer the question.”

Well, damn.

Stepping away from his touch, she faced the sculpture. He wanted her opinion? He wanted to know what she thought? Then so be it. She studied it and moved from side to side to take it all in and then turned to him.

“It’s scary.”

Ben’s brows furrowed. “Scary?”

She nodded. “I look at this, and like the eagle, it seems real. I mean, I can tell it’s wood, but the amount of detail you’ve put into it just makes it feel like it’s a living thing. I almost feel like I can count the hairs on it or that I can see it breathing. It’s incredible.” She looked at him and smiled. “I’ve seen pictures of your work, but none did them justice. There is no way anyone could appreciate the amount of work you put into your pieces unless they see them in person.”

Silence.

Uh-oh.

Reaching out, she touched the deer. “I never appreciated the texture of wood. Back up at the house, I find myself walking around and touching all the furniture because it feels so amazing. Right now, as I’m touching this piece? I don’t feel wood. I feel an animal’s coat. I mean, how do you do that? How does a person learn to create something that is so lifelike?” Her smile faded slightly. “That’s such a gift. I have met a lot of talented people—talented artists—but this, Ben? This is just…” She paused. “Seriously, I have no words. I’m in awe of what you can do and—”

She didn’t get to say another word, because Ben hauled her to him and silenced her with a kiss.

He took the cup of tea from her hands without breaking contact with her and put it next to his coffee. The second her hands were free, she raked them up into his hair. On and on and on, he kissed her until she almost couldn’t breathe. When he finally lifted his head, she was dazed.

“Wow.”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?”

Resting his forehead against hers, he took a minute to catch his breath. “For years, I’ve listened to people talk about my work. I’ve listened to the praise and the critiques, and most of the time, I let it all roll off me. Mainly because their opinions didn’t matter. But standing here watching you and listening to you? I wanted to know what you thought, and I was even a little nervous that you wouldn’t like it.”

“Are you serious? How could I not like it?” she asked incredulously. “Look at this!”

He chuckled softly and then shrugged. “It felt good to hear such honesty from someone I respect.”

A lump formed in her throat that almost choked her. He respected her? That was…it was…

“No one’s ever said that to me before,” she admitted softly, and she hated the slight tremble in her voice. “People let me talk or ask for my opinion, but most of the time, it doesn’t seem to matter.”

Caressing her cheek, he said, “It matters to me.”

His admission felt better to her than it probably should—it made her heart skip a beat, and her entire being felt lighter. “Thank you.”

Darcy was more than happy to stay like that—close—for as long as Ben wanted to hold her. In the past, she tended to fall hard and fast for the wrong guy. But this felt different.

It felt deeper. Serious. And more mature. Ben wasn’t a frat boy; he was a man.

And what a man.

That almost had her sighing giddily, but she didn’t want to ruin the moment. Which was still going on, and they were both still quiet.

“So,” she said softly.

“So,” he repeated.

“I should probably let you get to work. Or at least have your coffee break.”

Lifting his head, Ben gave her a mischievous smile. “I have a better idea.”

She knew that look.

She loved that look.

“I’m listening.”

A delicious little shiver went along her spine as Ben’s hands cupped her bottom and lifted her. He placed her on the workbench and stepped between her legs. She didn’t think a workshop could be sexy, and yet somehow, he managed to make that work too.

“The smell of sawdust turn you on?” she teased.

“You turn me on.”

Yeah, she was pretty much a goner.

“Is this like the apron and lace and stilettos fantasy?”

He shook his head. “No.”

Studying him, Darcy hoped he would explain a little bit more.

“It’s better,” he growled before leaning in and kissing her. It was deep and wet and over way too fast when he lifted his head. “I’ve had a hard time getting things done on the sculpture today because I kept picturing you here. Everywhere I looked, I could see you.”

When he said things like that, Darcy had no idea what to do, what to say. All she knew was she was cursing the fact that they were still dressed.

“I know it’s dirty in here, and there’s sawdust all over the place, but…” His gaze met hers—hot and intense. “Let me. Just let me, Darcy.”

Far be it from her to argue.

* * *

Three days. Darcy had been in his home for three days, and neither of them seemed to be in any rush for her to leave. Ben’s first thought was that he should be a little more alarmed by that, but really, he wasn’t. He liked having her there. He liked having someone to talk to when he was done working for the day and to share meals with.

He liked how she was already putting her stamp around his home—from the baked goods all over the kitchen, to her romance novels on the nightstand and coffee table, to her clothes scattered on his bedroom floor.

And he’d be a complete liar if he said he wasn’t enjoying the hell out of the sex.

Slowly, his hand moved across the wood to do some fine sanding on the deer bust as a smile crossed his face. He’d gotten less sleep these last few nights than he’d had in a long time, and yet he’d never felt more energized. The sculpture was almost finished, and he had already completed some rough sketches for his next project.

And the one after that.

Something about the time he and Darcy were spending together had unleashed a new wave of creativity in him. A couple of weeks ago, he had been feeling sluggish and ready for a break, but now Ben had a vision of the work he wanted to do, and he was excited to get it started.

His phone beeped with his daily alarm to check his emails. As promised, Darcy had set it up for him—twice a day rather than once—and he found it very helpful. And he had made sure he told her that too. And thanked her. She had beamed under his praise, and he had to admit, making her smile was one of his new favorite things, and it made him feel lighter as well.

Taking a step back from the piece, he studied it. This had come naturally to him—taking a block of wood and turning it into something. Sculpting and breathing life into a piece was what made Ben tick. And for so long, it was all he’d allowed himself to do. With the loss of his parents almost six years ago, the responsibility of being the head of the family and taking care of his two younger brothers fell on his shoulders, and he took it seriously. He worked when he didn’t want to. He persevered when he wanted to give up. And mostly, he made sure he filled his time with enough work that he didn’t have time to grieve or think about all they had lost.

Ben had gotten so used to having this single-minded focus on survival that what he was feeling right now felt strange and more than a little out of character for him. The survival instinct—that need to keep working to ensure financial security for himself with extra padding for his brothers—was still strong. That hadn’t changed. What was changing was how he also desired a life outside of work. Outside of his home. All day, he had been thinking about places he wanted to show Darcy but couldn’t because the roads weren’t fully cleared yet. If he lived closer to the city, they’d be fine. But this far out, most of the roads weren’t suitable for driving.

He wanted to take her to dinner. Maybe a movie. He wanted to take her to the first gallery he had ever displayed his work at. Or to meet his high school art teacher who still kept some of Ben’s work in his classroom.

Yeah. Ben wanted all those things and more.

But he couldn’t have them.

Though neither of them talked about it, they knew her time here was temporary. And honestly, Ben didn’t want to think about when she’d have to leave. Turning, he looked out the window and sighed. The snow had stopped early yesterday morning. The temperatures were still well below freezing, and he knew the roads weren’t safe, but eventually, that was going to change. Darcy had a life in North Carolina. On the other side of the country. Far away from him.

They had talked about it last night over dinner—her life. Her family. From what he could tell, her family meant the world to her. And other than Riley and Savannah, most of them lived in the same small coastal area. She had gravitated to her hometown after college and had been working toward finding a career that had to do with the business end of the arts. She knew what she wanted to do, and she liked living near her family, but those two things weren’t working out for her. She knew if she really pursued her career in the art field, she’d need to move. And while she was open to it, she also seemed to have issues with it—like she’d been willing to work at other odd jobs strictly because of logistics. Not that he understood that. Ben had always known what he wanted to do and never wavered from it. It was mildly fascinating to listen to her talk about all the jobs she’d had over the last several years.

All of them involved organizing and administration. She was damn good at it. Every time he walked into his office, he was amazed. Today, she was working on setting up his new software. They hadn’t had any mail delivery in days, and she had been able to do everything she needed to do online. It didn’t matter to him at all. She was welcome to do all the computer crap. He was much happier in his workshop. And his next assistant—temporary or otherwise—would benefit from all of Darcy’s hard work.

Just the thought of someone else in his home, in his office, bothered him. He’d done it before—normally under protest and out of necessity—but now, after having Darcy here, it was even more unappealing.

“Better get used to it.” He sighed. No matter how much he didn’t want to think about it, the snow would eventually melt. The temperatures were going to warm up, and the roads were going to clear.

And Darcy was going to go home.

To her life, her family.

And in time, maybe she’d forget about him.

But Ben didn’t want that, couldn’t allow it. This time they had together may be short, but he wanted Darcy to remember him. Looking around the shop, he remembered how they had talked about his work and how she described it. Other than his grandfather, no one else had ever grasped what he did. Not even his clients. They all wanted what they wanted and didn’t really care about how he made it happen. If anything, it made Ben want to create something specifically for Darcy—because he knew she’d appreciate it and understand all the thought and sweat and labor that went into it.

Standing, he went to look through his wood supply as thoughts for a design swirled through his head.

She might have to leave him, but he wanted her to take part of him with her.