Chapter 12 #2
Making our way through the main area, toward the softly lit dining room. The lobby was filled with people, hunched over tables, half-finished puzzles in front of them and pieces scattered about the surfaces.
“I didn’t realize so many people like puzzles,” Ben muttered.
“It’s the Annual Poconos Puzzle Enthusiast Club Convention.
It lasts three days, and by the end of it, they’ll probably have conquered a twelve-thousand-piece masterpiece and consumed twice that in coffee.
Though they also like their wine. The tasting room does very well when they’re in town.
” I slipped out my phone and shot a text to Rose to remind her, so she could post to our socials something puzzle related to draw people in.
I barely had time to take in the rest of the warm wood tones and crackling fire before a familiar voice called my name.
“Sherry!” Phoebe, smiling wide, bustled over in a tailored to perfection pant suit and designer heels.
Ben tensed at my side. “So much for lying low. I forgot she practically ran this place. Of course she’d be here.”
“It’s all right,” I said. “I knew she’d be here. I guess I don’t care.”
“Hey Phoebs,” I said as she came to a stop in front of us. Her greenish-blue eyes immediately dropped to mine and Ben’s linked hands.
“Oh,” she said. “Am I the first to know?” she asked with way too much excitement in her tone.
“Yes,” I confirmed.
She clapped to herself, gave a little skip in place, while Ben looked at her as if she lost her damn mind, and honestly, maybe she had.
“I never find out things first, especially before your brother. I can’t wait to rub this in his face.”
“We were hoping to stay out of the gossip mill,” Ben said.
Phoebe laughed, loud and unapologetic. “If you think you can hide here from the local gossip, I fear you are sadly mistaken. There are eyes and ears everywhere. Sherry knows that.” Phoebe darted her gaze to me, her head tilting as if understanding had dawned on her.
She stared as if she was waiting for me to admit that this was exactly what I had hoped, but it wasn’t, so I didn’t.
“All right then. Well, I have things to do, so I can get home to your brother before midnight. You two enjoy your dinner.”
“Thanks, Phoebs,” I said, and with a smile and a wave, Phoebe returned to run her domain.
Ben’s hand brushed against my lower back as we continued to the dining room. “What was that about?”
“What was what about?”
“She said you knew we wouldn’t have privacy here.”
“I thought that was common knowledge. The resort, while not part of the general makeup of our town, is still a part of it. There are locals who come here to use the amenities, have dinner, and spend a night out. Plus, she’s fully aware of my rule against dating coworkers.”
“So what you’re saying is… you knew there was a possibility we would be seen, and you don’t care?”
Was that what I was saying? I hadn’t really put much thought into it, but that in itself was telling. “I guess I don’t.”
The hostess, a brunette with her hair pulled back in a bun, smiled as we approached.
“Reservation for two under Ben,” Ben said.
“Right this way.” The hostess grabbed two menus and showed us to a table nestled in an intimate corner of the dining room.
Ben pulled my chair out for me, and I gratefully settled in.
“Your server will be right with you,” the hostess said before returning to her station.
“Have you been here before?” I asked as I opened the menu and scanned the pages, even though I knew exactly what I was going to order.
“I have not. Have you?”
“I have.”
“What would you recommend, then?”
I smiled and set the menu down. “The filet is amazing, and the truffle mashed potatoes are life changing. But if you’re in the mood for pasta, the lobster ravioli is a close second.”
Ben’s eyebrow arched, a grin tugging at his mouth. “Truffle mashed potatoes, huh? Didn’t take you as the type to like something so—”
“Bougie? Pretentious?”
A sexy laugh grumbled in his throat. “Not at all. I just personally hate truffle anything.”
“Oh.” Heat crept into my cheeks, but I ignored it. “Then go for the lobster ravioli. It’s divine.”
“You make the ravioli sound like a religious experience.”
“That’s because it is.” I leaned toward him across the table. “But it’s entirely up to you.”
The server approached the table with two glasses of water, placing them in front of us. “Can I start you two off with something to drink?”
Ben glanced at me. “Wine?”
“The only acceptable answer.”
“What kind?”
“You choose.” My lip quirked at the corner. “But beware… I will judge you based on your choice.”
He playfully tugged at the collar of his shirt. “Pressure is on.” His eyes scanned the wine list before smiling at the server. “A bottle of Vine Valley Vineyards Pinot Noir, please.”
“Right away, sir.” The server hurried off, and Ben’s gaze turned to me.
“Safe choice.”
“Safe?”
My eyebrow arched, daring him to defend himself.
“Fine. It is safe. But it’s a solid choice. Smooth, balanced, and leaves a lasting impression.”
His gaze lingered on me, the double entendre sinking in. Heat expanded from my chest, through my neck and into my cheeks.
I took a sip of water and cleared my throat. “You make a fair point, and the Pinot Noir happens to be a favorite of mine, so you have escaped judgment.”
An unexpected dimple made an appearance. “Good to know I can still impress you.”
I shrugged, trying to play it cool, despite the new wave of heat washing over me. “Still? That implies you’ve impressed me before.”
“Don’t act like I haven’t.” Hunger and desire flashed in those green eyes as he stared at me. I knew damn well what he was insinuating.
The moment stretched, our eyes locked, and I was about to admit defeat when the server popped up with a bottle in hand.
I broke my gaze from Ben and leaned in my seat while the server uncorked the bottle.
He poured a small amount in my glass, and I didn’t need to taste it to know it was to my approval, but I did.
As I expected, perfection. “Delicious,” I said, and with a nod, the server poured both our glasses before placing the bottle on the table.
We ordered our food, and I had a moment of silent victory when Ben ordered the lobster ravioli.
“I thought for sure you’d get the steak,” I said once the server left.
“If this lobster ravioli doesn’t change my world, I’m blaming you.”
A grin toyed at my lips as I swirled the wine in my glass. “Fair, but I can’t wait to say I told you so.”
“I didn’t realize you were so competitive.”
“I’m one of seven. Of course, I’m competitive. My siblings could turn anything into a competition. What about you? Did your siblings make you competitive?”
“Yes, but not in the same way yours did.”
“What do you mean?”
“They assumed I was incapable. I had to prove to them wrong. Not exactly the basis for a loving relationship.”
My smile faded, the warmth from earlier cooling. “That sounds… lonely.”
Ben shrugged, his shoulders tight. “It was. Still is sometimes. But it taught me how to stand on my own.”
“The one good thing about Vine Valley. You’ll never be lonely again.”
His eyes softened. “That’s just it though. Being around your family… it’s the first time I’ve realized how alone I’ve actually been. Kind of like you don’t know what you’re missing if you never had it.”
My heart ached as his words settled between us. I reached for my glass, not because I needed a drink, but because I needed something to do with my hands or I’d reach across the table and offer him the comfort he’d been missing. But I didn’t know if I was ready for that sort of intimacy.
Before I could say anything, his gaze flicked past me. His jaw tightened, and whatever softness that had been there before vanished.
“Everything okay?” I asked, following his line of sight in an attempt to figure out what caused the sudden change.
The smile he flashed was forced and insincere. He grabbed for his glass, but didn’t take a sip. “Just thought I saw someone I knew.”
He brought the glass to his mouth, taking more of a guzzle than a sip. “Good wine,” he said as he put his glass down.
My eyebrow arched as the air shifted around us, but then his eyes met mine, and his smile wasn’t forced or insincere. It was soft again, but almost sad, as if he wanted to memorize this moment before it slipped away.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah.” He took a smaller sip. “I’m just… glad I’m here with you.”
Before I could press farther, the server appeared with our entrees, placing them in front of us. Ben straightened in his seat and thanked the server with his natural charm.
“Moment of truth,” he said, picking up his fork.
But my mind was still stuck on that look he had given me, that flicker of something haunted. I wanted to push, to get him to open up more.
He dropped his fork, the silverware clattering against the plate with a loud ting. “Holy shit. You weren’t kidding.” He took another bite, and when his eyes lit with joy, I let go of the things left unsaid and basked in my victory.