Shoreline Drive (8 page)

“Don’t be a dummy. There’s nothing better than the Firefly Café,” Merry told him. “But that’s beside the point, because you didn’t ask some other woman to marry you—you asked me. And I don’t need any of that courtship crap, because if we do this thing, it’s not going to be a regular marriage. It’s more of a business deal. What’s the phrase? A marriage in name only.”

She held her breath, because that was essential—a deal breaker, in fact. Merry Preston had slept with plenty of guys for reasons that turned out to be pretty stupid, in retrospect, and she was through with it. Sure, Ben was hot—it would be impossible not to notice. But she’d fallen for good looks before, and she knew better now. That part of her life was over—she had more important things to focus on these days, like Alex.

“That sounds like you’re saying no sex,” Ben said, with his usual bluntness.

Taking that as her cue to be equally blunt, Merry laid it out for him. “If you’re going to expect sex from me in return for financial stability … there’s a name for a woman like that, and it’s not a label I’m willing to carry. So I want it understood up front. If we get married, I’m never going to have sex with you. Ever.”

*   *   *

To the casual observer, Ben would bet he looked calm and collected, unconcerned at the fact that the woman of his dreams was offering him everything he wanted in one hand, and taking back a big chunk of it with the other.

But Ben was a master at weathering emotional whiplash—he’d been told that as a fairly complicated, uneven-keel person, himself, he’d inspired plenty of it in others—and the important thing was to keep his eyes on the prize.

She was close to saying yes. A qualified “yes,” to be sure, but this first “yes” was only the first step of a much longer journey. And without it, he had no chance at getting
any
thing he wanted.

So Ben shrugged instead of arguing, and said, “Makes sense. I wouldn’t want you to do something you’re uncomfortable with.”

That had the added benefit of being true—Ben’s dream was not, in any way, to coerce Merry Preston into sharing her life and herself with him.

He needed her to want him back.

Her eyes went wide, and he could tell he’d surprised her. Not very flattering. “Seriously?” Merry blinked. “Oh-kay … great.”

“Good.”

“Hold up.” Merry shook her head. “For serious now, you get what this means, right? I’m okay with you … seeking comfort elsewhere. That’s only fair.”

“Fine.” Ben shrugged. It was easy to agree to a contingency he never planned to take advantage of.

She threw her hands up. “Ben! Now who’s not thinking it through? Let me spell it out. If we stay married, you will never father a child with your wife. Are you really willing to give up all hope of a legitimate heir?”

The words rocked Ben on his heels like a slap across the face. Merry couldn’t know how close she’d cut to the bone, how much fathering another child was exactly the eventuality Ben hoped to avoid. “It’s not a matter of giving up hope,” he said starkly. “There’s no chance of me fathering a child, legitimate or otherwise. Ever.”

He would never take that chance again, with Merry or anyone else.

“Oh!” Red suffused her cheeks as her eyes went wide and moist with sympathy. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize … I didn’t mean to bring up something so painful and personal. But it’s important we’re on the same page about this, because it’s a deal breaker for me.”

“We’re good. Is that your only deal breaker?” Ben asked abruptly, tightening his fingers on the appointment book until the plastic squeaked in his hands.

“Anxious about what else I might come up with?” Merry flashed a smile and her booted heel hit the desk leg with a rhythmic thud-thud-thud. “Don’t worry, you’ll like this next one. I’m willing to agree to the trust fund for Alex—I can’t pass up the chance to give my son the best chance at life.”

“Excellent.” Fulfillment flooded Ben for a blissful moment … until he noticed the determination firming Merry’s lips.

“But,” she said, holding up a hand. “The trust should be in Alex’s name only. I want a third party we both agree on to be his trustee. Someone good with money and with Alex’s best interests at heart should hold the purse strings until he’s old enough to take over.”

“I nominate you,” Ben said immediately. A huge part of the point of this was to make sure Merry was taken care of.

“No. I don’t want your money. And I wouldn’t know what to do with it, how to invest it and keep it safe for Alex. I was thinking somebody like Harrison McNamara would be a good choice.”

Harrison McNamara wasn’t only Jo Ellen Hollister’s main squeeze—he was also the manager of the local bank, and a smart, savvy businessman. Ben was unwillingly impressed with Merry’s pick, even as he realized she was determined to deny him the satisfaction of taking care of her the way he’d imagined.

“That makes sense,” Ben admitted grudgingly. “But look, don’t be a stubborn idiot about the money. I’ve got more than I need—you don’t. If we get married, we share it. That’s how it works.”

“Your money is yours.” Merry set her jaw, and Ben hated that he noticed how beautiful she was in her righteous determination. “This isn’t nineteen fifty. It’s not your job to support me. In fact, if we do this, I’ll want to contribute to the household. Which means getting a job outside of working at the barn.”

Ben pounced. “What about Alex? Are you going to let me hire a nanny to look after him? Because the chances of you finding an employer other than your mother who’s happy to babysit? Virtually nil. And if you’re going to keep working at the barn, too—”

“I have to,” she interrupted. “Mom needs all the help she can get, setting up the new facility for the changeover to therapeutic riding, and I need to see it through with her. It means a lot to me.”

As it happened, the planned Windy Corner Therapeutic Riding Center meant a lot to Ben, too—enough to have him volunteering his time and considerable skills as the on-call veterinarian—but he still marveled at the easy, open way Merry put it out there. As if she had no fear that revealing what mattered to her meant that it would be taken away.

“I was going to point out that a job in addition to working at the barn means long hours away from Alex.”
And me.
“So maybe you should rethink that point. It’s not like I need your help with the bills.”

“I get it, you’re Richie Rich.” Merry shrugged helplessly. “But can’t you see that I have to do my share and pay my own way, or all I’m doing is trading dependence on my mother for dependence on you?”

Ben had to look away from the plea in her blue eyes, or he was going to crumble under the pressure. His gaze landed on the tidy surface of the desk, with its neat piles of paper.

“You’re right,” he realized, snagging a page off the top of the nearest pile. “I do need help with the bills. And the filing, and keeping up with my appointments and stocking the supply closet.”

“What do you mean?”

Ben raised a brow. “I know exactly where you can work, for good money and flexible hours. And I can guarantee the boss won’t mind when you bring your baby with you to the office.”

Merry slid off the desk, eyes huge in her shocked face as she stared wildly around the office. “No! What? I don’t have any qualifications, my work history is spotty, at best. This is a bad idea.”

“It’s a great idea,” Ben told her. “In spite of your frankly terrible interview technique. And you had the gall to criticize
my
interviewing skills! Anyway, you’re hired. I’m looking at the new office manager for the Sanctuary Island Veterinary Clinic.”

Just as he was congratulating himself on finding the perfect loophole, Merry recovered enough to narrow her eyes and poke a stiff finger into the center of his chest.

“And you’ll pay me exactly what you paid your last receptionist, right? No more, no less. No special treatment.”

“Fine, take all the fun out of it,” he grumbled. “And don’t worry about special treatment. You’ll have to learn on the job, and I need you up to speed fast. So you’ll need to start as soon as possible.”

“As soon as … an hour ago, when I cleared off this whole desk?” She smirked up at him, so full of mischief and loveliness, it caused a physical ache in Ben’s hands that he wasn’t supposed to reach for her.

He gazed into her eyes for a long, silent heartbeat. Ben yearned toward her as if she’d magnetized his insides, an almost uncontrollable force pulling him in her direction. But she’d said she didn’t want that, didn’t want him, and Ben would never force her.

She’d said she didn’t want him … but a sudden flush painted her cheeks and the tips of her ears red. Her pearly skin showed every change in body heat, Ben knew, and as they stood there, mere inches apart, the flush spread down her neck. Her breathing hitched quietly, and when she swallowed, he was close enough to track the movement of her slender throat.

Her chest rose with an inhalation and her lashes fluttered slightly, but she didn’t step away. Ben stared down at her, so close, so touchable, and he smiled.

He’d never force her … but he could tempt her.

“It sounds like we’ve got a deal,” he murmured, very aware of the thickness of his voice. “All points agreed upon, all details hammered out. I’ll get my attorney to draw up a contract, so you can look it over.”

“Okay.” Merry’s gaze flickered to Ben’s mouth for a bare instant, but it was enough to set off fireworks in Ben’s chest.

“One last point,” he said, bending near to brush the words against her temple. “About the no-sex clause.”

“Nonnegotiable,” Merry breathed, her blush intensifying. Hope kindled like a flame in the pit of his stomach.

“I’m not arguing,” he assured her. “Merely stipulating an exception.”

Suspicion crept into her tone. “What exception?”

With the same care and precision he used with his frightened patients, Ben lifted his hands to her upper arms and skimmed the silken flesh there so lightly that he felt it when she shivered. “After we’re married, there will be no sex … until you come to me and ask for it.”

Chapter Six

“If your plan is to wait me out, Doc, you’ll be waiting a long time,” Merry declared. Well, she meant it to be a declaration, a firm and serious vow, but somehow it came out sounding all husky and needy.

Ben shrugged, his dark brows scrunched in that grouchy way that made Merry’s fingers itch to smooth them out. “We’ll see.”

“We
will
see,” Merry insisted, forcing herself to step back and out of the danger zone. “We need to be clear before this goes any further.”

She paused. The blunt, brutal truth didn’t seem to want to leave her mouth, but it was too important—if she held back and he got the wrong idea, she wouldn’t be doing Ben any favors, in the long run.

Merry tilted her head and looked him straight in the eye. “I know we haven’t talked about feelings much. It’s all been about what makes financial sense and what’s best for Alex, and I don’t want to hurt your feelings or anything, but Ben, I don’t love you.”

She held her breath for his reaction, but his expression never even flickered. If anything, his grumpy scowl lightened up a bit. “I know that. I never expected you to.”

“All right. That’s … good.” Knocked off balance, Merry couldn’t help poking at him to find out more. “But what if you fall in love with someone later on down the road? I wouldn’t want to stand in your way—we should have a plan for that.”

“We can if you want,” Ben said indifferently. “But it’s not going to happen for me. I’m not built for it. I prefer a smart, sensible partnership with all the details spelled out ahead of time in a contract. I’ll take that over the mess and chaos of love any day of the week, and twice on Sundays.”

His face, as usual, gave nothing away. But there was a rigidity to his stance, a brittle stillness in the way he held himself, that hinted at old pain and deep regret. Merry, who had more than her share of both, decided to back off and let this drop gracefully. For now.

“Then I guess we’re in agreement.” Another thought popped into Merry’s head. She couldn’t believe she’d almost forgotten about it! “Oh, wait—I also want a trial period before we even think about starting adoption proceedings. A year.”

Ben’s eyes narrowed. “Six months is all you’ll need. I’m going to be an excellent father figure.”

“A year,” Merry insisted. “For you as much as for us. Being a parent isn’t fun and games all the time. We need to be sure this arrangement is working out before I make such a permanent decision about my son’s future.”

Jaw clenching, Ben dipped his chin. “Reasonable. But I’m not going to change my mind,” he said, as if he’d heard everything she wasn’t saying.

To her own surprise, Merry wasn’t actually all that worried that Ben wouldn’t be up to par as a dad—she’d seen him with Alex, and she’d felt the tenderness and care radiating off Ben whenever he held her little boy in his arms. They wouldn’t be having this conversation at all if she hadn’t.

But she was worried—terrified—about what would happen if she and Alex grew to depend on that tenderness and care, and someday down the line, Ben left.

She wouldn’t put her son through the lingering, corrosive heartache of abandonment. The fact that Ben couldn’t have kids of his own reassured her a little, in a sad way—Alex would be it, for him, and what mother wouldn’t appreciate that?—but she had to be cautious. This was her son’s future. She couldn’t take any chances.

“One year,” Ben said, as if making a mental note and recalibrating his plans. “Starting from today?”

So soon. Somehow, that one sentence made this whole theoretical discussion feel real. Merry swayed on her feet, a little light-headed with possibilities. “This … is actually happening, isn’t it?”

“If you want it to.” Ben tucked a hand into the pocket of his white lab coat and drew out a tiny black velvet box.

“Geez, count your chickens much?” Merry said faintly. “You must have been pretty sure I’d come around.”

“I wasn’t sure, but I had hope.” Ben turned the box, so small in his long-fingered hands, and offered it to her on the flat of his palm, the same way he’d offer a sugar cube to a horse to keep from getting bitten.