Chapter Four
Julia couldn’t pinpoint exactly when, but somehow during the hour-long rehearsal, something in Ben had changed.
Sí
, the playful glint in his icy blue eyes remained the same, but a strange sort of intensity crackled in the air whenever she caught him looking at her.
He’d laughed and joked with the kids, especially Bernardo, who’d moved his chair so close to Ben’s, the five-year-old might as well have sat on Ben’s lap.
Now, the ballplayer stood over near the far corner, talking with the cop who had agreed to play the guitar for them. The policeman taught guitar lessons at the center and had recruited a couple of his students to sing.
The older gentleman who’d volunteered as their pianist, a retired businessman who also regularly helped at the center, was busy packing up his keyboard and stand, though Julia noticed him occasionally joining in their conversation.
With rehearsal at an end, she called out good-byes to some of the kids and answered a few questions from others. All the while, her gaze kept straying to Ben.
His relaxed, laid back manner made him seem more like the handsome boy next door rather than the face that had graced the cover of nearly every sports magazine on the shelves, and a few other nonsports related ones, too.
She allowed herself to admire his athletic build and chiseled profile for a few short minutes.
With the central heat on inside the center, Ben had pushed up the sleeves of his navy sweater. The muscles in his forearms flexed as he held the acoustic guitar, following the cop’s instructions on where to place his fingers so he could strum out a chord.
The strength in Ben’s large hands as he finessed the strings had her fantasizing about his fingers on her. Strong yet soft in a skin-tingling caress.
Her pulse sparked at her silly imaginings and she pulled her thoughts up short. Estaba loca
.
Sí
, she had to be crazy, allowing her mind to go down a path like that.
The last few stragglers finally drifted out of the room and Julia strode over to a nearby seat where she’d left her thin jacket along with Ben’s. She’d really have to invest in a better coat with winter approaching.
As soon as she picked up Ben’s, she caught the scent of his cologne lingering on the material. The hint of spice in the undertones piqued her senses, making her body warm in intimate places. Just in time, she stopped herself from bringing his coat up to her nose so she could take a deeper whiff.
Ay Dios mío
, talk about groupie behavior.
Reminding herself about her priorities, which did not include going all boba
over a ballplayer, she headed over to meet up with the musicians and Ben.
“Muchísimas gracias
, I appreciate you playing for us. Tonight and
the night of the benefit.” Julia shrugged into her jacket as she thanked them.
“My pleasure,” the cop answered.
“It’s Diego, right?” she asked, waiting for his nod before she turned to the older gentleman. “And Señor Pérez?”
The keyboardist tipped his head in greeting. He made a few smart suggestions about the playlist order and Julia jotted down the notes. After reassuring her they’d return the following week, they exchanged farewells, then the two volunteers headed out with their instruments.
That left her and Ben alone in the empty classroom.
The sound of the musicians’ footsteps faded, blending with the murmur of voices drifting down the hallway from the common area.
Hands in his pockets, Ben swiveled on the heels of his leather work boots to face her. He rocked forward on his toes, leaning closer. “Looks like it’s just you and me now.”
That intense scrutiny was back in his expression. Like a scientist studying an intriguing specimen, he honed in on her.
His interest was clear. No way was she misreading the gleam in his eyes.
The tilt of his body, the teasing quirk of his mouth . . . they were all signs she’d learned to read. Read and avoid. She didn’t have time for relationships and the drama. Her sights were set on landing a permanent position here in Chicago.
“Um, yes, I guess it is.” She shuffled a step to the side, moving in the direction of the door. “Thanks again for sitting in tonight. You were a hit with the kids.” She combed her hair back, brushing it over her shoulders. “I should get going. Need to either call for an Uber or start the walk to the train station.”
“Don’t do that. I can drive you.”
She waved off his offer. Mostly for her own sanity. “That’s okay. My place is out of your way.”
“How do you know that?” Ben drew back, his brows angling with confusion.
Julia gave a mental head shake at her slip of the tongue.
She knew because her fanatic younger brother had read, often out loud, every article he came across that mentioned Ben. Including the one about him and several other teammates who lived near Wrigley Field, where they enjoyed walking or biking to the ballpark.
Not that she’d admit to knowing that much about him. No need to sound like a stalker.
“Um . . .” Ave María purísima
, how to explain this one. Hail Mary full of grace indeed.
Ben tilted his head in question, waiting.
“Umm, I just figured. Assumed, I guess?” Lame answer if she’d ever given one.
“I’m in the Wrigleyville area. The Southport Corridor neighborhood, actually,” Ben said, lifting his left shoulder in a half shrug. “But I don’t mind taking you wherever—”
“You see? I’m downtown, in the opposite direction. Thanks anyway.” She flashed him a smile meant to cover her own uncharacteristic awkwardness.
“I was going to say, it doesn’t matter. I can drive you. No need to wait for a car or take the L when I’m free, and willing, to give you a lift.”
There was really no good reason for her to refuse his offer.
Bueno
, other than her own sanity. But he didn’t know that.
Unbelievably, Julia found herself drawn to an athlete. Despite her vows to never let that happen.
After living with three her entire life, you would think she’d had enough of their smelly uniforms stinking up the house. Their annoying habit of tossing baseballs back and forth or, God forbid, bouncing a rubber ball against the wall between their rooms. The superstitions, the confidence that often crept into cockiness and, even worse, the competitive drive that seeped into every single aspect of their lives.
Yet, she’d seen none of those last ones from Ben.
In fact, he’d been generous with his time and quick with his laughter, even poking fun at himself when he’d flubbed some of the Spanish lyrics that ran together like a tongue twister.
“So, what do you say? Shall I be your chauffeur home?”
Ben did that lean-in move again, an expectant, hopeful expression lighting his handsome face, and . . . ay, Ave María purísima
, if she didn’t want to meet him halfway. Erase the distance between them and steal a kiss.
The very idea had her drawing back with a jolt.
“A simple ride home among new friends,” Ben said. “That’s all.”
As if he sensed her teetering on the edge between yes and no, but didn’t want to push her, Ben scooped up the strap of the black shoulder bag with the small percussion instruments. She noticed he slung it over his left, noninjured shoulder and she wondered if his right one might be feeling sore.
“You sure you don’t mind?” she asked.
Waiting outside for her car to arrive or, worse, standing on the cold L platform waiting for a train didn’t sound nearly as comfortable as a ride in the warmth of his Range Rover, cradled in the plush leather seats.
That’s the only reason she would say yes, she assured herself. Uh-huh.
“I wouldn’t offer if I minded,” Ben answered.
The genuine note in his deep voice persuaded her.
“Okay, then, thanks.” She tucked her hair behind her ear in what she knew was a nervous gesture. “I appreciate it.”
“Any time.”
Ben flashed his heartthrob smile and her breath hitched.
Too late she realized that maybe a frigid wait for a train would have been smarter. It certainly would have helped to cool the heat simmering inside her whenever she was around him.
“Shall we go?” Ben gestured toward the door, waiting for her to lead the way.
She could change her mind. No harm, no foul. But when it came down to it, she didn’t want to.
Fool that she might be, she bowed her head in a slight nod, then started toward the door.
One ride home . . . What could it possibly lead to?