Now and Again (6 page)

She drove the short distance to the pub and smiled at the familiarity she felt when she pulled the large wood door open. The crowd blocked her from seeing the bar, but as she walked closer, she saw Ben sitting there talking to a uniformed police officer. He turned her way as she approached.

“Glad you made it, Cupcake,” he said, winking as she slid onto the stool next to him. Layla’s cheeks warmed as the man Ben was talking to said goodbye and left.

“How’s it going?” she asked.

“Not bad. How was work?”

“Just the usual stress. I went and saw the building my sister bought to open a bakery in, and it’s such a disaster.” Layla shook her head and sighed.

“Is she hiring a contractor?”

“I don’t know. She and her boyfriend are working on it for now, and I’m helping this weekend. It’s probably got rats and God knows what else in it.”

A wiry woman with short gray hair and dark, suntanned skin pushed another bottle of beer in front of Ben and he flashed his million dollar smile at her.

“Thanks, gorgeous,” he said, winking. Though she waved dismissively, Layla could see the older woman’s eyes glowing. She went down to the other end of the bar, leaving Ben and Layla alone once again.

“You’re a flirt,” Layla said, giving him a look. Ben smiled as he took a pull from his fresh bottle of beer.

“I don’t hear you complaining when I flirt with you,” he said, glancing at her.

Layla laughed nervously, wishing she had a snappy comeback. But he was right. Ben broke the silence, giving her an earnest look.

“I’m actually not a flirt,” he said. “You and Doreen—” he gestured to the older woman who was pouring alcohol into shot glasses, “—are the only women I’ve flirted with in a while.”

“Really?” Layla asked skeptically.

“Really. You can ask any of the guys. I’m pretty much a serious asshole.”

“Well, it’s been a while since anyone flirted with me,” she said as Doreen came back to their end.

“Want anything?” the bartender asked, raising her brows at Layla.

“Sure, I’ll have a Malibu and pineapple.”

Ben turned to Layla as soon as Doreen was out of earshot.

“You saying no one’s flirted with you in a while has to be the biggest line of bullshit I’ve ever heard,” he said. “I guarantee it happens all the time.”

Layla shrugged. “Men looking at my boobs isn’t flirting. I mean real flirting … the kind that makes you feel good. Like you made Doreen feel. You saw her smiling; you probably made her night.”

“Do I make you feel good?” The intensity in his eyes as he looked at her made Layla hot all over. She pulled her hair away from her neck and laid it over her shoulder.

“Yes. When you’re not frustrating the hell out of me, you make me feel good.”

“Hey, Montrose!” A tall man with dark features approached, grinning at Layla though he’d spoken to Ben. “And you are?” He extended his hand toward her.

“Fuck off, Landon. This is a private conversation,” Ben said. The man shook his head and walked away.

Doreen sat Layla’s drink in front of her and Ben glanced at it, smiling.

“This is the only one I’m having,” she said.

He raised his brows and laughed. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Hey, put his on my tab, too,” Layla called to Doreen.

“Like hell. Give me the tab, Doreen.” Ben’s sigh of indignation made Layla laugh.

“If you want to make me feel good, let me buy the drinks,” she said. “You always buy.”

“As I should.”

Layla turned toward him with a glare. “Oh, don’t go all old-fashioned on me. I work damn hard so I can pay my own way and take care of myself.”

“That’s your problem,” Ben said. “You come off as a woman who doesn’t want or need anything from anyone.”

“That’s because I don’t.”

“Bullshit.”

“Are you going to start in about everyone needing love and companionship?” Layla snapped, her anger rising. “I have friends for that. I didn’t think you were one of those guys who judged independent women, but I should have known better. Are you a fucking Republican?”

Ben threw his head back with laughter. “I couldn’t give a shit about politics, Cupcake. Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I can tell you want to be treated like a lady – there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“What?” Layla’s voice rose with her emotions. “Treated like a lady? Does that involve being paid less for the same work as a man and having a client ask if I offer blow jobs on the side? If so, I’ve got good news – I get treated like a lady every day.”

“Relax,” Ben said. “Take a big sip of that drink. Come on, do it … Alright. I didn’t mean to upset you.” He took a long sip of beer.

“Sorry,” Layla muttered. “I may have been projecting some anger that wasn’t directed at you.”

“It’s fine. If some guy asks you for a blow job again, get his license plate number and I’ll make sure he regrets it.”

Layla’s mouth dropped open with surprise. “What?”

“Do you have plenty of batteries at home?” Ben asked.

“Do I … ? I think so,” Layla said, looking at him with confusion.

“Because I don’t want you to leave here pissed off. I’d feel bad about that,” he said. “But I’d also feel bad if I sent you out of here wet and ready and you didn’t have any batteries for your vibrator.”

“Holy shit, you are the cockiest guy I’ve ever met. Like what, a look from you and I’ll need to get off immediately?”

“Not just a look.”

“You’re not taking me into a dark alley for any reason,” Layla said.

A smile played on his lips. “I can do it right here, and I won’t even have to touch you.”

Layla tried to look amused, though a surge of longing for him was running through her entire body.

“Okay, let’s see what you’ve got,” she said.

“Turn toward me,” he ordered. Layla spun her legs his way so they were facing each other on their barstools.

“I can’t help our knees touching,” Ben said. “My legs are long.”

“I don’t think your knees will contribute to whatever I do or don’t do with my Magic Wand when I leave here.”

“Magic Wand?” Ben brows shot up.

“You know I haven’t had sex since last year, but I’m not pretending I haven’t come that whole time.” Layla took another sip of the drink, reminding herself to slow down.

Ben’s eyes sparkled with appreciation. “Your honesty is such a turn-on,” he said, leaning closer. His face was almost touching hers, and Layla felt the tickle of his breath on her lips when he spoke. “I think you’re the smartest, sexiest woman I’ve ever known.”

His voice was low, only for her, and the brush of her hair against his forehead made Layla want to be closer to him.

“I love your big brown eyes,” he said, the tip of his nose grazing hers. “They flash when you’re pissed and shine when you’re turned on. I want to watch them close when I ease my cock into you.”

Holy shit. The c-word might make me break out the Magic Wand tonight.

Layla tried to keep her breathing even as she waited for him to continue. He moved his mouth around to her ear, where his hot breath teased her ear lobe and neck. “I love your full, pink lips. I fantasize about you wrapping them around my cock. I’d rather be hard all the time than let anyone else’s mouth touch me. Yours is the one I want.”

He pulled his face back and looked at her. “Want me to keep going?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she said, taking a long swallow of her drink. The throbbing sensation between her legs was so good, and she was rethinking her stance on going into a dark alley with him.

Ben’s lips came back to within an inch of hers. “I love your long, sexy legs. I want to push them apart and fuck away all your insecurity. I’m dying to know what you sound like when you come. When you said earlier that I make you feel good I got hard because I’ve fantasized about making you feel good since the first day you walked into my office.”

Layla wanted him to lean that least little bit and kiss her. She wanted it so bad she was about to do it herself. But the days of casual bar fucks were over, she reminded herself. If she didn’t end this now, she didn’t think she’d be able to later.

“I can’t say I’ve never fantasized about you,” she said lightly. Ben’s breath hitched and she relished regaining control. “But it’s late and I need to get going.”

Ben’s eyes widened with shock. “What?”

“I have to be up early.” It took all her willpower to slide down from the stool. She pulled several bills from her wallet and sat them on the bar. “Thanks for letting me buy. See you around.”

She blew out a breath once her back was to him. God, he was sexy. He’d definitely worked up her appetite, but the Magic Wand could finish the job just as easily as he could. No walk of shame required.

***

Layla exhaled deeply, relieved she’d finally made it all the way through her email inbox at work. She hadn’t been completely caught up on emails all week since her schedule was heavy with meetings and hearings. Now she just had case law to catch up on before she left.

She was about to close out her email when a new message flashed onto the top line. Though she didn’t recognize the sender’s name, John Jones, she clicked on it because damned if she was falling behind again.

The email was only a single sentence:
I’m always watching you.

A shiver ran down her spine as Layla looked around her office. It was only four walls, a window and a closed door. She peeked under the desk for good measure. Just her own feet. It wasn’t possible anyone was watching. This was just some asshole trying to scare her, and she wasn’t falling for it.

She moved the email to her trash folder and started perusing the J. Crew website. Surely she deserved a reward for this long, shitty work week. She found a dress and ordered it before starting the case law summary she needed to read.

The ding of an incoming text pulled Layla’s attention away from the computer screen. She yawned as she grabbed her phone and scanned the message.

We took Prince for a walk and he’s hanging out with us now.

Layla’s neighbors from across the hall, Travis and Jill, never minded helping out with Prince when she was working late. They had a key to her apartment and Prince loved them. She texted her thanks and took off her reading glasses, closing her eyes to rest them. It could have been the monotonous reading on the ins and outs of the tax code, or it could have been her long day, but Layla was tired.

She checked the time on her phone. 8:30. And if she left now, others in the office would still outwork her. But her mind wasn’t on the case summary she was reading anyway, so what was the point?

Fast food didn’t appeal to her, so she ran through the list of restaurants she liked to pick up food from. The people at the Thai place knew her by voice. And the deli near her apartment made a great club sandwich.

But nothing sounded good, and she tried to place her nagging sensation as she switched off the lights in her office and locked the door. She was hungry, so why didn’t anything sound good? Her mind wandered to O’Malley’s, and she wondered if Ben was there. They did make some really good salmon; that was probably why she was thinking of the Irish pub.

She started her car and drove aimlessly, telling herself she was trying to decide where to go. When she slowed near the tiny parking lot of O’Malley’s, she rolled her eyes and pulled in. So she was going there – so what? It didn’t mean she wanted to see Ben, it just meant she appreciated a well-broiled fish.

The smells of grilling burgers and beer greeted Layla as soon as she walked in. The pub was crowded as usual, and she wove her way up to the bar. The only open seat was on the end, and she slid into it and grabbed a menu.

“Hey, you lookin’ for Ben?” Doreen, the wiry bartender, paused in front of Layla, a bottle of beer in each hand.

“No,” Layla said defensively. “I just like the food here.”

The corners of Doreen’s mouth turned up slightly.

“Well, he’s over there playing pool if you wanna see him,” she said, gesturing across the pub with an arm.

“Thanks, but I don’t,” Layla said, pulling out her phone to catch up on the latest news.

Doreen shrugged and walked away. Layla smiled wistfully as she scrolled through Facebook photos of a high school friend on a tropical honeymoon.

“Hey, can I buy you a drink?”

Layla looked up and met the green eyes of a middle-aged man with tousled light brown hair.

“Uh … no thanks, I just came in for dinner,” she said, looking back at her phone.

“Might as well have a drink, too,” he continued. “What’ll it be? Something fruity, right?”

“No, I’m good.”

“Come on, no woman in her right mind turns down a free drink.”

Layla bristled at the feel of his hand on the small of her back.

“Fuck off,” she said hotly. “If I want a drink, I’ll buy it.”

He quickly pulled his hand away and Layla glared at him. His eyes were focused over her shoulder, though.

“Didn’t she just tell you to fuck off?”

Ben’s deep voice gave Layla a shiver. The green-eyed man raised his hands in mock surrender and backed away. Ben leaned on the end of the bar with a slight grin.

“I was coming to rescue you, Cupcake, but you beat me to it,” he said. Layla’s instinct was to snap at him to stop calling her that, but she pressed her lips closed instead.

Do I actually like him calling me that? I’m ashamed to call myself a feminist.

“Well, I’ve been rescuing myself for almost 27 years now, so I think I can handle it,” she said.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I would’ve waited to have dinner with you.”

“It was an impulse thing,” she said, shrugging. “I like their salmon.”

“And?” Ben asked in a playful tone.

“And … ? I don’t know, I guess the bread’s pretty good, too.”

“You didn’t come here for the food, Layla,” he said. “You came to see me.”

Layla rolled her eyes and looked up at him.

Wow. His eyes are so blue. And of course he’s wearing a t-shirt again, so I have to avoid looking at his muscles even though they’re only a foot from my face.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she said. The man on the barstool next to her left, and Ben slid in beside her.