Company Ink (8 page)

“Violet?”

She looked up with a startled expression. “Ben? What are you … ?”

“I live in the neighborhood,” he said casually. “Just stopping in for dinner. Do you live around here?”

She took a breath before replying, “No, not at all. I was, um … I am meeting someone.”

“Oh.” He nodded, feigning ignorance. “I’m guessing they’ll be here any minute then?”

“Actually,” she sniffed, standing, “I think I’ve been stood up. So I think I might just … ”

He held out a hand to stop her from grabbing her purse. “Wait, would you maybe ... ? Do you think you might want to have a drink?”

Violet froze, obviously surprised by his abrupt invitation. Ben, frankly, was about as stunned by his offer as she looked. But he couldn’t leave her there by herself—the disappointment on her face and the embarrassment in her eyes knocked him for a loop. Compared to the strong cake-queen persona she always had on display for him at work, this current vulnerability took him by surprise, and his heart immediately went out to her.
One drink can’t hurt. Maybe I can send her home with a smile.

“I mean,” he continued, “before you go, of course. Come on, I owe you one.”

“That’s really nice of you, Ben,” she answered cautiously. “But I think I’ll just … ”

Ben stepped around her and pulled her chair out slightly, gesturing toward it. “Come on, just one. At least let me ease my conscience.”

Violet heaved a sigh and took the chair he offered, scooting with its movement as he tucked her back into the table.

“What are you drinking?” he asked as he took the seat across from her.

She folded her hands in her lap. “The house Merlot.”

“That’s a heavy red for the summertime,” he remarked. “You like big wines, I take it?”

She nodded. “I’m not much of a connoisseur, obviously. But I like my wine to have a punch, I guess. The Chardonnays and the Pinot Grigios just aren’t my thing.”

Ben smiled. “I can respect that.”

He called the waitress over and ordered another Scotch for himself and a glass of Merlot for her. Violet gave him an impressed look, a teasing grin stretching across her face.

“Talk about heavy drinks for the summertime. I’d be sweating like an animal if I had what you’re drinking.”

Slightly offended, he frowned. Was she putting the walls back up? “I wasn’t judging your choice of wine, was I?”

“No, and I wasn’t either … I was just … I was just saying.” Violet dropped her head with a small, embarrassed smile.

“So, Violet”—he was careful to use her full name as she had corrected him so many times before—“do you live
anywhere
near here?”

She shook her head. “Washington Heights. Well, I’m right at the border. I was just down here meeting someone for dinner.”

“Ah, the dummy who stood you up.”

She bit her lip nervously and nodded. “Yeah, that guy. It’s fine, though. He won’t get another shot now.”

The hard anger in her voice as she dismissed her potential suitor made Ben cringe a little, and he laughed in spite of himself. “Wow, remind me not to get you angry.”

Violet tilted her head to one side, finally looking good-natured. “You already did, remember?”

“You got me there, Violet.” Ben slumped in defeat, and she let out a peal of delighted laughter.

“Call me Vi.”

Their eyes locked, and a warm stretch of silence extended between them as the server placed their drinks in front of them. Once again, it may as well have been day one. Glad that he hadn’t decided to call it an early night, Ben found his appetite—among other things—returning. And, if he were being honest with himself, Violet was certainly a great alternative to an early, whiskey-sodden bedtime.

Three hours, dinner, and quite a few drinks later, Violet was surprised to have learned as much about him as she had in this short span of time. They’d traded life stories over truly scrumptious dim sum and a shared plate of lo mein. Their check sat unattended on the table between them. She drained her umpteenth glass and licked her lips while she studied him. Her tummy jumped as he watched her quietly.

“Well, forgive me for saying so,” she remarked, “but Elena sounds like a nut job.”

“As does Steve. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“So am I.” She nodded, waving for the server. “And I’m sorry you had such a cold-hearted witch for a wife. If I had been in her shoes, things would have been a lot different.”

Yikes
. Maybe that was a little too forward for a girl who’d only been friendly with him for the equivalent of a full day. Too late to hold her tongue now. She looked up at Ben self-consciously; his smile had widened.

“Don’t get shy on me now, Vi. This is easily the most open and fun conversation I’ve had in … years.”

She sucked her teeth. “Oh, come on, Ben … years?”

He nodded. “I’ve got no reason to lie. I’ve had an absolute blast hanging out with you tonight. And honestly? I don’t want it to end.”

She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms, grinning boldly. “You mean that, don’t you?”

He brought his glass to his lips. “Like I said, I’ve got no reason to lie.”

Ben continued to watch her, his gaze playfully dark as he drained his glass. She hadn’t expected her night to turn out like this, but here she was. And where it was headed was obvious, at least in her mind. She bit her lower lip again, butterflies setting up camp in her tummy and sending tiny bolts of lightning through her veins. She took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, amused by just how unready she was for all of this.

“Oh man, I hate to do this,” she said, “but I have to go. I just really—I can’t.”

Ben paused and nodded. “I get it. But can I see you again?”

She stood slowly, and he followed suit. Was he being a gentleman, or was he just too drunk to realize what he was doing? He approached her with a flirtatious smirk, his steps resembling a cowboy’s swagger that had the potential to drive her crazy. She ran a hand through her untamed tresses, grabbing a handful as she laughed coyly.

“You mean like at work … boss?”

Ben dropped a rather large bill onto the table with a chuckle, and Violet pretended hard not to notice the tremendous tip he was leaving as he led her away from the table. “Oh, I was hoping that wouldn’t come up tonight.”

“How could it not come up? You’re my manager; I’m your production supervisor.”

“We’re two people who seem to get along a lot better when we’re not at the bakery.” Ben placed one hand directly on her back as he reached forward and held the door open for her with one strong, deft arm. “But you’re right. It might be a problem—I’ve never been interested in a co-worker before.”

Violet strolled toward the curb, her head swimming from the copious amounts of wine she’d imbibed. A happy giggle escaped her lips, and she nearly clamped her hands over her mouth. “Me neither.”

Oh no.
A twinge of panic rushed through her as their arms brushed together. Ben was her boss; getting involved with him was a bad idea, period. This should have been an easy decision. Instead, Violet felt like she was being tugged in opposite directions by both arms.

She watched as he took long strides to the curb, his long and graceful body extending outward as he hailed a cab. He was wearing a black v-neck tee shirt and dark blue jeans, and she noticed for the first time that his blond locks were perfectly mussed. Maybe it was the Merlot goggles, but Ben Preston was more gorgeous than she remembered. A cab came screeching to a stop in front of them, and she immediately regretted saying she had to leave. She dropped her head with a sigh and stepped toward the cab, looking up to say goodbye. To her surprise, Ben was closer than ever and still taller by a large amount despite the fact that she was standing on the curb and he was in the street.

“Wow,” she breathed. “You’re … really tall.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Ben sniffed playfully.

And you smell like heaven
. But all she could mutter was, “Like, really tall.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

Violet could feel her cheeks burning as she watched Ben examine her face carefully. The world around her seemed to fall into a haze; the only things left were his ice-blue eyes, chiseled jaw covered in a half day’s growth, and that far too tempting mouth.

Ben reached out, touching her jaw with a gentle, slightly callused fingertip. “Vi?”

“Hmm?”

“The cab
is
here.”

Thoroughly embarrassed, she took a careful step off the curb. “Ben, it’s been … ”

“It has.”

She swallowed a lump in her throat. “Will you … ?”

He smiled warmly, curving his finger beneath her chin. “Tomorrow.”

Her heart raced and her breath grew short—they may have connected to the point that he was actually reading her mind.
What the hell is going on?
Before she could declare to herself for the second time that night that this wasn’t like her, Ben tilted her chin upward. Her lips parted involuntarily and, without another word, his mouth closed over hers. The kiss was gentle, unassuming …
genuine
. It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, and her entire body was humming by the time he pulled away from her.

Violet closed her eyes, dropping her head with a sigh as her indecisiveness came to a crashing halt. It may have been completely unlike her, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that if she didn’t speak now, the opportunity may never present itself again.

“Get in the car.”

“Excuse me?”

“Just get in the cab,” she replied with a nervous smile, “before I change my mind.”

He extended his arm toward the open door. “Ladies first.”

Every nerve ending in her body was tingling in excitement. The effects of the wine had made her brave beyond belief, but she knew there was no way she’d regret this in the morning. She climbed into the cab and scooted over to the far side. “Take us to 143rd and Broadway, please.
Quickly
.”

She pressed her back against the car door as Ben reached for her, his eyes filled with mischief. Violet couldn’t help but give a nervous chuckle as his mouth claimed hers again. She was beneath him in the back seat of the cab, only partially aware that there was someone else in the car. Ben’s hands found their way just under the edge of her shirt; slender fingers danced along the curves of her waist and moved toward the small of her back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and giggled beneath his lips.

He smiled but kept his lips against hers. “Ticklish?”

She sighed as he moved his mouth away to nip at her neck and responded, “Only for the moment.”

His breath against her ear ignited a fire in the pit of her tummy. “You smell like cupcakes.”

“Do you like it?” she asked, her voice trembling.

“More than I did the first time we met.” The tip of his tongue flicked its way across the pulse point behind her ear. “And I liked it then.”

For a brief moment she was thankful that she was already lying down, because the sound of his voice made her weak at the knees. Feeling encouraged, she reached up, running her hand up the back of his head and grabbing a handful of his straight, blond locks, so soft to the touch. She tugged his head. His eyes rolled back, and a moan escaped his lips. She may have liked the giddy schoolgirl feeling she got when he kissed her, but she wasn’t one to stay underneath a guy for long.

Ben gave in willingly as she pushed against him and forced herself into a sitting position. His eyes darkened as she straddled him, and his already mischievous grin stretched across his face just a bit more as Violet displayed her more aggressive side. She tugged his head back again and allowed herself a moment to nibble on his neck and collarbone. Her dominance turned him on, judging by his breathlessness and the rapidly growing bulge pressing against her jeans.

Ben gripped her tightly by the hips as the cab picked up speed on the West Side Highway. Violet gasped against his mouth as his hands made their way further up her back, beneath her shirt. A low growl settled in the bottom of his throat as his hands found the clasp of her bra; within seconds, it popped open. She pulled away from him with a startled squeak, her eyes wide as she let out a delighted laugh.

“Somebody’s fast,” she teased, scooting closer to him in a thinly veiled attempt to rub against his massive erection.

“Well, you did say you were likely to change your mind,” he joked, reaching up her shirt sleeves and deftly maneuvering her bra straps down.

She allowed Ben to pull the straps off of her arms, and it only took another moment to pull it out from under her shirt entirely.

“I’ll just take this.” He stuffed the bra into his pocket, and she threw her head back and laughed. With expert fingers, he tugged the front of her shirt outward and snuck a peek.

“Impressive,” he murmured.

“I like ’em.”

Ben chuckled again and leaned forward, placing an affectionate kiss over her heart. Her breath caught in her throat, the out-of-place but terribly sexy gesture taking her by surprise. The car came to a stop and idled in front of her apartment building.

“Thank God,” she said breathlessly, opening the car door and stepping out.

Thankful she hadn’t tripped over anything climbing off of Ben, she reached into her purse. But he was already on the sidewalk next to her, having handed the cab driver the fare plus a pretty hefty tip. He pulled her close, tilting her chin towards him with a curled index finger. She felt her knees go weak and nearly went down before he hooked her against him by the waist and kissed her.
Oh boy
, she thought nervously as Ben’s hand slid up the back of her shirt.
Let the dipping commence.

• • •

Violet’s apartment door opened abruptly, and they spilled in, attached at the mouth as she struggled with the lock. Her purse hit the floor a few feet away from the door, and she managed to get his belt and top button undone before Ben pulled her shirt over her head. She tugged at his v-neck, and he obliged by quickly taking it off. Violet wasted no time, letting her hands run over his torso as they kissed. She pushed him against the wall with a soft thud and wrapped her arms around his neck. He let out an involuntary groan, and with a small hop she wrapped her legs around his waist. His hands cupped her bottom as he walked through the living room and toward the hallway.