Ensenada Escapade: Destination: Desire, Book 6 (11 page)

It was one of the many little quirks he’d always adored about her.

He just wished she felt the same way about him.

Chapter Eight

The Island Brewing Company’s tasting room was packed. Surprising considering they didn’t sell food. A few people had their kids playing outside, while the adults sat at tables under bright blue umbrellas. Inside, the décor matched the blue and yellow-orange of the brewery’s logo. The walls featured pieces from local artists.

Nora liked the relaxed vibe immediately. She snagged a recently vacated table for them outside while Ben waded through the throng at the bar to place their orders.

“Is someone using this?” A middle-aged woman grabbed the chair across from her.

“Yes!” Nora answered quickly before the lady snatched Ben’s seat. She pointed toward his back. “The guy in the black shirt is getting our drinks.”

The older woman turned to look, letting go of the chair. Her lips pursed and a wicked twinkle filled her gaze. “Nice tush. Looks muffiny and bitable.”

Nora winked. “It is.”

“Have fun with that. I know I would.” Chortling, the lady wandered off to find another empty seat to steal.

Sucking in her cheeks to keep from laughing, she waved when Ben glanced over his shoulder at her. Yep, he really did have a muffiny butt.

After they’d finished dinner, he’d insisted they walk off the substantial meal and take a stroll up Linden Avenue away from the beach. There were a bunch of cute stores, from coffee shops to toy stores, art galleries to vintage clothing boutiques.

They’d had dessert at Crushcakes & Café because she had a deep, deep weakness for red velvet and this place had giant cupcakes painted on the wall. She couldn’t resist. Ben opted for strawberry, and the orgasmic groan he’d given when he’d bit into his cake reminded her of something else she was powerless to resist. If she had any brains at all, she’d never have gone for a second round with him this morning, or be considering a third tonight.

Willpower? What willpower?

The bottom line was, she had no idea what she was doing with him. She had no idea how he really felt about her, and her own feelings seemed to be in flux. Was this just sex? Was he just fulfilling teen fantasies? Was that okay with her and she should just go with it until they got home? Her heart squeezed painfully at the idea of this thing ending. Sure, they bickered like an old married couple, but…he also made her laugh when he wasn’t pissing her off. And he’d been an amazing partner in crime on this road trip from hell.

Ben mixed her up, and every instinct told her to cut things off because this insanity couldn’t be a good thing. Except…

Except she didn’t want to.

If that wasn’t the definition of crazy, she didn’t know what was. And that scared her because the craziest person in her life was her mother, and the last thing Nora wanted was to end up like her mom. She’d always managed to steer clear of any man that could turn her into the twitterpated idiot Mom became when she fell for a new guy. It never lasted.

Well, that was the harsh reality, wasn’t it? What she was doing with Ben couldn’t last. They might be compatible in the sack, he might have been crushing on her for a while, but they drove each other nuts. You couldn’t make anything permanent out of that. This fluttery, excited feeling in her belly would go away. This ache in her heart when she thought about never having that feeling again would fade.

A tall glass landed in front of her, filled to the brim with foamy amber liquid.

“Your Island Pale Ale, as requested.” Ben settled into the chair opposite her, cradling his own pint.

“You know I had to fight off a horde of women who wanted your seat.” She picked up her beer and took a sip.

“How heroic.” Amusement glinted in his emerald gaze. “How big was the horde?”

She gestured expansively with her glass. “It was a horde of one, but the battle was magnificent.”

White teeth flashed in a grin. “Sorry I missed it.”

“The horde also complimented your ass,” she added, and enjoyed watching him choke on his beer. “How’s your hefeweizen?”

He coughed a few times before he answered. “I don’t even want to know about the ass horde. And the hef is the best in the US, seriously. They also sell it in individual bottles in there. I might need to make a to-go order before we leave and take some home.”

“You can’t get it in NorCal?” She took a swig of her pale ale, letting the crisp, slightly bitter flavor roll over her tongue.

He shook his head. “Sadly, nope. It’s only offered seasonally too.”

“Well, enjoy it while it lasts.” The pint had an even shorter shelf life than their affair.

Maybe he understood that her words had deeper meaning because he leveled a steady gaze on her. “Some things do last.”

“Name something,” she dared him.

He didn’t even blink. “Love.”

“Ha!” She leaned back in her chair. “My mother has been in love so often you’d think it was going out of style. Love is ephemeral.”

“Which means you don’t trust it, but I do.” He took a deep swallow of his beer. “My parents have been married for over forty years and they’re still crazy about each other.”

Yeah, because one example counted. “They’re an exception to the rule. The statistics are on my side. Love doesn’t last.”

His dimple dug a deep groove into his cheek. “I’m a big fan of beating the odds.”

She snorted. “Remind me never to take you to Vegas. You’ll come home broke.”

He snapped his fingers. “Anne and Gabe.”

“What about them?” She grabbed a napkin to swipe the condensation from her glass. It was getting slippery, and she didn’t want to risk dropping it.

“Do you think they’ll last?” His eyebrow rose, his question a clear challenge.

Did she? There were very few couples as well-suited for each other as big sister and her husband. If anything, he was even more irreverent than she was, and there was always a lot of laughter when they were around. Nora nodded. “Yes. I do. They have a lot in common.”

Ben stabbed a finger at her, his expression triumphant. “So, you do believe in love that lasts.”

Was there ever a dispute he didn’t feel the need to win? She took another sip of her beer and realized she was almost done. Too bad. “Maybe I just don’t think I’ll ever find what my sister or your parents have.”

That made him go quiet for a few minutes while they both finished their drinks. Finally, his voice smoothly casual in a way she didn’t trust, he said, “I think you will. You’re a lovely, caring woman. Any man would be lucky to have you in his life. He’d be smart if he did everything in his power to keep you.”

She shrugged, refusing to ask something stupid—like if he thought she was so great, why hadn’t he ever volunteered for the job? Not that she wanted him to volunteer. She crossed her legs and glanced away. “My last serious boyfriend left me because I was spending too much time with Cami after her accident. He felt neglected.”

His empty glass clinked loudly as he set it on the table. “I didn’t know that. What an asshole.”

“I agree.” The leashed anger in his tone made her meet his gaze. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and she was pretty sure if her ex were here, Ben would deck him.

“He should have been helping you, not making a hard time harder.”

She lifted her hands and let them drop to her lap. “Most of the men out there are assholes, Ben. I doubt there are many nice women either. The odds of a nice man and a nice woman meeting and falling in love are probably even worse than a marriage enduring. Most have the life expectancy of a fruit fly.”

“Cynic,” he accused.

“Realist,” she corrected. “How many divorces have you handled?”

He didn’t tend to deal with criminal cases, but she knew the firm took on a variety of civil and a family law cases. She imagined he’d dealt with a plethora of different clients, including those who wanted to end their marriages.

He grunted. “Enough.”

“And you still believe in love everlasting?” She couldn’t hide her incredulity. If anything, he should be even more dubious about the prospects of matrimony than she was.

“With the right woman, yes.” His dark brows drew together and he tapped his fingertips against the tabletop. “Make no mistake, I’ll find her and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her happy. I think the problem with relationships is that people don’t want to do the work to maintain them. It’s not all effortless.”

“It shouldn’t be so hard you have to constantly bend over backward and tie yourself in knots, either.” As she’d seen many men do for her mother over the years, and as her ex had wanted her to do for him. “There’s a point where you’re just spinning your wheels.”

He nodded. “True, you need a partner who’s willing to put in the work too, who loves you as you are. No fixer upper relationships. That doesn’t work either.”

“Such a relationship guru.” Her tone was somewhere between teasing and mocking. Not that she disagreed with him, per se, but things that worked in theory often broke down in practice. Marriage was one of those things.

He looked down his nose at her. “I’ve handled enough divorces I might qualify as a marriage counselor.”

“Or an un-marriage counselor.”

Drawing his foot up to prop against the edge of his seat, he draped an arm over his bent knee. “There’ve been a few who gave up too quickly and I told them so. I recommended a good counselor, and let them decide if they wanted a lawyer or a therapist to work out their differences.”

Wow, seriously? Her eyebrows rose. “That’s ballsy, considering they came to you for legal advice. What happened?”

“Two couples stayed together, the third split up.” He brushed a hand down his pant leg. “You can’t win them all, I guess.”

“I guess not.” When it came to relationships, she couldn’t win any. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t like to find what Anne or Karen had with their husbands, but there’d never been a guy who fit her that way. Both women had men who complemented them, who shared many similar interests and ideals. No such luck for Nora.

And she needed to stop thinking about that or she was going to start crying into her beer. The conversation fell into a pool of silence, so the sound of the music the brewery was playing and the babble of other people talking filled in the void. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but she still felt a bit off-balance and morose.

“Brown Eyed Girl” by Van Morrison came over the loudspeaker and Ben flashed a grin, caught her hand, and pulled her into a small open area between the tables.

She frowned. “What are you—?”

“I feel like dancing.” He spun her around and dipped her over his arm. He pulled her up into a loose hold and led her across their tiny, makeshift dance floor. She didn’t have time to be flustered by them putting on a show because a few other couples quickly joined them.

He was easy to follow, and managed to make her feel like she knew what she was doing when he whipped her into a quick turn. After he dipped her again, she came up giggling. Maybe it was the rush of blood to her head, maybe it was the way the people around them had gotten into it, maybe it was the knowledge that she was never going to see any of these folks again, maybe it was the giddiness of being pressed so close to an incredibly sexy man, but she let herself relax, cut loose, and have a ball.

“You’re good at this.” She turned her head to speak in his ear, and he smoothed a hand down her back. She quivered, desire beginning to seep through her. And there was the complicating factor—now that she knew how good it was to have him touch her, she couldn’t turn off the craving for more.

He hummed. “Karen wanted to learn one summer when she was a freshman or sophomore in college, so she dragged me along to the dance studio as her partner.”

“Mean older sister.” She tsked.

“She bribed me, so not that mean.” At this point they were just rocking slowly to the beat of the music, wrapped in each other’s arms. It felt good.

Chuckling, she amended, “Smart older sister.”

“Very.” His warm breath rushed over her neck, making her shiver. The song ended and they pulled away from each other slightly. He met her gaze, hunger reflected in his expression, and for a moment she thought he’d kiss her. Longing lodged in her throat, and she leaned forward.

“The two of you are the most adorable couple.” An elderly woman, who looked as chirpy and fragile as a small bird, broke into their reverie.

Nora jolted, and forced a smile. “Oh, we’re not a couple, but thank you. That’s very kind.”

The old man sitting next to her snorted. “If you aren’t a couple, I’ll eat my hat.” He tugged on the brim of his fedora, turning to the woman. “These young folks don’t know anything anymore.”

Ben wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her away. “Come on, sweetheart, you’re not fooling them.”

A loud harrumph came from the man and the woman said, “I told you. I knew it.”

Nora just laughed. “I wasn’t going to win there, was I?”

Clasping her hand, he wound through the other dancers back to the table. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to argue with cantankerous old people?”

“I argue with them all day long.” She brushed a lock of hair over her shoulder and sat down. “They don’t want to take their meds, they don’t like the pillows, they hate being stuck with needles, they don’t want to have an MRI, their hips or knees or muscles hurt and why can’t I fix it?”

“What?” His eyes widened. “You don’t come with a magic wand you can wave?”

“They teach nursing majors to use stethoscopes, not magic wands. I can sprinkle some glitter around if you think it’ll help.”

He tipped his head toward the elderly couple. “Want to go over and ask the experts?”

“Pass.” She crossed her legs and smoothed her skirt.

He scooped up their empty glasses. “Want another beer?”

“Hmm.” She closed an eye and considered if another pint was advisable. She was a lot smaller than he was, so it’d hit her harder. Then again, she wasn’t driving and they were a five minute walk from the house. She dug into her purse for some cash. “Maybe one more, and this round’s on me.”

He took the money without protest. “Same kind or a different flavor?”

She glanced at the menu board posted over the bar. “The honey ale, I think.”

He bent down and popped a quick kiss on her lips, his stubble rasping over her skin lightly. “Coming right up.”