Maggie grabbed the pitcher of iced tea and scanned the rest of her refrigerator. Nothing. As much as she’d said she didn’t want Ben to come over tonight, she was actually thankful he’d offered. She was too tired to even think about cooking.

After the argument she’d had with her father and the disappointed look Valerie had shot her in the dining room, Maggie’s head had exploded with rage, disappointment and regret. All the emotions swirling around in her head were making her dizzy.

She jumped at the knock on the front door. Walking toward the entry, Maggie glanced through the peep hole, sucking in a breath at the sight in front of her. Slowly she opened the door for a better look.

Ben stood in jeans that weren’t too loose, weren’t too tight. No, they were like Goldie Locks said, just right. A little too right.

She squirmed, remembering those powerful legs pressed against her during their evening spent in the cabin.

“May I come in?”

Maggie unglued her eyes from Ben’s legs and let them wander up his incredible body. He had a pale green buttoned-down shirt, untucked but ironed. Had he ironed? She was pretty sure he’d talked his mom into it. Two bags of groceries hung in each hand. Thank you, God.

Finally, her gaze slid up to his face. He had a day’s worth of stubble that made him edible. His hazel brown eyes showed a hint of green thanks to his shirt and the edges of his lids were creased with small wrinkles that somehow made him appear even more intelligent. Moving her gaze lower, she watched his lips curve in a delicious smile.

Maggie had heard the term “weak in the knees,” but until now, she’d thought it was some made-up comment for sappy romance novels. Nope. She was quite weak in the knees for this man.

And he knew it.

Ben raised his brow in silent question.

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry.” Maggie pulled back the door and stepped aside, allowing Ben inside. She took a few moments to gaze at his backside. Yep, just as impressive as the front.

“Should I put these in the kitchen?” he asked, glancing at her over his shoulder.

Maggie’s gaze snapped from his ass to his face. “Bedroom. I prefer to keep my food in there,” she quipped. She didn’t know why she liked teasing him.

Ben cocked his head as one side of his delectable mouth curved into a smirk. “Now that you mention it, one of these bags is for the bedroom.”

Oh, holy hell. Knees definitely weak.

Maggie followed Ben into the kitchen and watched as he gently placed the bags on the counter. The one he’d held in his right hand she noted he put in the freezer. He closed the door and looked her up and down before winking.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said, pulling items from the bag, “but I kind of cheated.”

Maggie scooted around him and stood next to the sink, her hand braced on the counter. “How so?”

Ben held up a container holding what looked like some kind of red sauce. “I do know how to cook lasagna, but the sauce takes a long time, so I borrowed some of my mom’s from the freezer.”

Maggie had tasted Valerie’s delicious lasagna and had no reason to complain. “That’s fine. I trust you. But you will have to prove your culinary skills one day.”

“I’ll cook for you again, Maggie Mae. I promise.” He took a step toward her and brushed a soft kiss against her lips but pulled away before she could register what he’d done. “And it will be from scratch.”

Maggie’s lips tingled where they’d touched. She shook her head to clear the fog. How could one kiss, so gentle and light, rattle her?

Ben pulled a bottle of red wine from the bag. “Would you like some wine?”

Would she? She normally didn’t drink a lot, but after her day from hell she could use a glass. She’d always found if she limited herself to one glass or one beer, she was able to treat it as a challenge rather than a vice. A way to face what had destroyed her father and not allow it to destroy her.

“Yes, that sounds awesome. Let me get some glasses.” Maggie scooted past Ben in the small, galley style kitchen. He made no move to make room for her and her chest grazed his back. Her breath hitched as her breasts dragged across his broad back.

Ben pressed back against her, his ass to her front with a low laugh. “Sorry,” he said before finally releasing her.

She slapped his back. “Hardly.” She liked this playful relaxed side of Ben Sumner.

She slipped by and opened a cabinet, reaching above her head. “Would you like a glass?”

“Sure.”

She reached for the second and closed the cabinet door with her elbow, turning and nearly colliding with Ben. Now his front was to hers. This time when he pressed her against the counter, the playfulness was gone. Hips to hips, thighs to thighs, his hardness pressed against her softness.

Ben slipped the wine glasses from her hands and set them on the counter beside him, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Ben?” she whispered. Why was she suddenly being shy?

Ben’s hands stroked along her shoulders, squeezing them with expert precision.

“Ohh,” she moaned, her eyes fluttering closed.

His hands continued working her aching muscles. She hadn’t realized just how tense she was.

“You need a massage, Maggie.”

“I wish we had a spa at the lodge,” Maggie sighed.

“That might be a good idea,” Ben said. “We could add a spa onto the back of the main building or put one out near the cabins in a free-standing building.”

Maggie opened one skeptical eye.

“After the note and everything is paid for,” he added.

“Yeah, after that.” Mood officially killed.

“Hey.” Ben held her in place. “I said it was a good idea. I didn’t shoot it down.”

She let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a long day.”

His fingers slid into her hair, draping it over her shoulder as his face dipped toward her neck.

God, he smelled so good. She flinched. She hadn’t taken a shower since this morning, and after she’d returned from her father’s she’d been going nonstop at the lodge.

“What?” Ben asked, stilling his movement.

“I, I just probably…” How could she tell him?

Ben pulled back, gazing down at her, his brow creased in confusion. “Probably what?”

“Stink,” she said softly.

He laughed and bent to nuzzle her neck. “Maggie, you could never stink.” Abruptly, he pulled back. His face scrunched like he’d sucked on a lemon. “On second thought.” He waved a hand in front of his face.

“Oh, God.” Maggie slapped a hand over her mouth, her face burning red with embarrassment.

“I’m kidding, Maggie.” He pulled her closer as he laughed.

She reached for his sides and tickled, making the large man squirm. “Ben Sumner, I’m going to get you for that.”

He quirked one brow as she slid her hands up his torso. She wasn’t tickling now. “I look forward to that,” he said.

And so did she.

“Go on,” he turned her away from him, “go take a bath while I put dinner together.” He turned and went back to unloading the groceries.

Maggie stood staring at him in disbelief. When had a man ever cooked for her? Or let her relax in a tub while he cooked? Never.

Without thinking, Maggie stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his taut waist, her chest pressed to his back. “Thank you,” she whispered into his shirt. Before he could respond or she could do anything stupid, like admit she may be falling for him, she released him and made her way to the bathroom.

Maggie closed the door behind her and sagged in relief. Her feelings for Ben were quickly becoming more intense. And it scared the hell out of her. She already had too much going on in her life. She had to figure out what to do with her dad once he was released.

And how to forgive him and move on.

Easier said than done. And not going to happen tonight.

Maggie turned the nozzle and plugged up the tub, allowing it to fill with water. She reached under the cabinet and threw in some bubble bath that she rarely used. Who had time to lay in a bath anymore? The thought made her think of Ben and how kind he’d been to her, how he’d loved her body, made love to her in the cabin.

She shook her head to release the notion that there could be more. It’s just sex. It’s just sex. It’s just…

With a heavy sigh, she poured the purple liquid into the water and watched as bubbles mounted thick. Maggie quickly tugged off her clothes and pulled her hair up into a messy bun, ready to wash away all the stress and misery of the day. Slowly she sank into the lather. When the tub was just about to overflow, Maggie turned the knob off and sat back with a sigh.

Ben lightly tapped on the door. “Maggie?”

She sank lower, covering her body beneath the suds. “Uh, yes?”

The door opened and she slipped down to her chin, almost laughing at herself. The dude has seen you naked. In fact, he’s been closer to your hooter than your OB/Gyn. She laughed to herself. It was true.

Ben ducked inside the bathroom, two full glasses of wine in each hand as he closed the door with his foot. “Man, it’s like a sauna in here.”

Maggie laughed. The hot water had steamed up the room but she liked her baths hot.

“I’m boiling the pasta for the lasagna. You’ve got a little while to soak.” He sat on the edge of the bath and handed her a glass.

Maggie reached for it but Ben held it just beyond her reach, making her sit up more. “Ben,” she scolded.

He smirked and handed the glass to her. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“And here I thought you were one of the good ones.”

His grin was slow and sultry, with a promise behind it she hoped like hell he would keep. “Never said that, Maggie Mae.”

Maggie stared at his mouth, wishing it was on hers, or anywhere on her.

He slipped from the edge and sat on the floor next to the tub, his face just a few feet away from hers. He reached his hand out and tucked a loose curl behind her ear.

She couldn’t help herself. She leaned into his touch and he laughed when she sighed.

“You sound like a cat purring.”

Maggie sat up and grinned.

“Oh, I meant to show you.” Ben sat his glass of wine on the floor and reached in his back pocket, pulling out his phone. “Check this out.” He held up the screen so she could see.

“Is it a game?”

“Yeah, it’s called Bee Mine.

“Did you make it?” Maggie sat up, carefully checking that her chest wasn’t exposed.

“Yeah.”

“Is it a Spelling Bee?”

“Yeah, see the bee,” he pointed to the animated bumblebee flying around the screen.

Maggie nodded, resting her arms on the side of the tub.

“The game says a word then you have to move the bee around until you spell it correctly. If you get it right, you fill up the honeycomb.”

“What happens then?”

“You move to the next level.” Ben held out the phone to her ear. “Listen.”

A computer voice spoke. “The word is caterpillar.”

Maggie gasped. “That’s my word. The one I missed and Tim Flaven got right in fourth grade.”

Ben chuckled. “Yep, that’s the one.”

“Ben.” She slapped his chest.

Water splashed over the edge of the tub.

“Hey.” He laughed, raising the phone up and out of harm’s way.

“You made that?” Maggie nodded to the phone. “The game, I mean.”

Ben didn’t answer.

She gazed up and saw his eyes were glued to her exposed chest. Maggie sank back into the water. Crap. “Ben?”

He shook his head, his eyes finally meeting hers again.

“How long did that take you to make the app?” Maggie asked, changing the subject.

“Not long.” He shrugged as if making an app was easy. To him, it probably was.

“Is that what your company does?”

“Some guys do, but not games. We program mobile apps to help companies integrate their software on the go, kind of like what I’m working on for the lodge.”

“What do you mean?” She slipped her chin into her arms as she leaned on the tub and stared at this incredibly talented, incredibly sexy man. She didn’t know if it was the company, the hot water, or the wine, but she was definitely relaxing more and more by the minute.

“Well, I have my team working on integrating the new system I’m developing so that the staff at the lodge can each carry a hand-held device to access information rather than have to travel to a kiosk or desktop. Like you asked for. You’re right, the lodge is huge and that wastes a lot of time.”

“Ben,” Maggie raised up again, touching his shoulder, “that’s amazing. We looked at some systems that did that, but we’d have to pay a fortune, and we’d lose other features as a result.”

His eyes fell to her chest.

Oops. She lowered herself again, water splashing close to the edge.

“It’s nothing,” he said quietly. “It’s what we do. My company I mean.”

She studied his face. “What’s wrong?”

Ben sat back on his heels and took a sip of wine, setting the glass back on the floor. “I forgot how much I missed programming,” he finally answered.

“You don’t do it now?”

He shook his head. “No, not really. My position as CEO has me locked down in meetings almost all day.”

“What kind of meetings?”

“Staffing, forecasting, advertising, truly boring stuff.”

Maggie laced her fingers through his. “And we’ve added to your pile of fun by making you work at the lodge.”

Ben gazed down at her, his hazel eyes searching hers. His luscious lips curled slightly. Her body temperature rose despite the cooling of the bath water.

“It’s not you, Maggie.”

“Then what is it?”

Ben reached out and grabbed her hand, holding it up for his inspection. “You’re wrinkled.” He smiled.

He ran his fingers over her hand, up her arm, making her want his hands to keep going.

The timer buzzed.

“Noodles are ready,” he said, kissing her hand before releasing it and pushing to his feet. “I’ll get the lasagna going.” He dropped her hand and turned to leave.

“Ben,” Maggie called softly.

He glanced over his shoulder.

She lost her nerve to ask him more. “I’ll be out in a second.”

“Take your time. The lasagna needs to bake for a bit anyway.”

“Okay.” She nodded her head and without another word, Ben slipped away.

Maggie stared at the closed door, wondering how she was going to hold on to her heart when she wanted to give it to Ben so badly.