Read The Inn at Laurel Creek Online

Authors: Carolyn Ridder Aspenson

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Two Hours or More (65-100 Pages), #Contemporary Fiction

The Inn at Laurel Creek (5 page)

BOOK: The Inn at Laurel Creek
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I switched the subject to avoid puddling into a mess of mushy Carly
on the floor. "So tell me about your music. Have you always played the guitar?"

"I have," he said, nodding. "Hold on a sec." He took the tray and placed it inside on the table, then sat back down, guitar back in his
hands.
"My mom said the first time I played guitar, even though I'd never touched one before, it was beautiful. I was three."

"So your mom plays, too?"

"She did." His shoulders sank, and a bit of sadness took over his
tone. "She passed away a few years ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, she was fine one day and the next, she was gone. Cancer.
The doctors said she knew and decided not to tell me."

"Are you her only child?"

"I am." He nodded. "And it was just us two. My father left before I was born. I've never even met him. So me and my mom were tight."

"That must have been so hard." I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing both of my parents were, at that moment, likely safely
tucked in bed, lying next to each other watching reruns of
Law and Order
or
CSI
.

"It wasn't easy, but life goes on. The day she died, almost at the very moment she passed, it rained. And it rained the rest of the day.
Now every time it rains, I feel like she's showering me with kisses."

I tilted my head. Something about what he'd said seemed
familiar
but I couldn't quite place it. "You should write a song with that line
in it," I said.

He smirked. "Maybe someday I will."

Not wanting to force him to talk about his mother anymore, I changed
the subject. "Stan told me magical things happen here, but I
don't really believe in that kind of thing. How 'bout you?"

"I think anything's possible but I've never seen anything to
validate their theory."

"Seeing is believing."

"Maybe it's not really magic. Maybe the Inn is haunted and
ghosts are screwing around."

"That's a better possibility to me, but Stan led me to believe it wasn't ghost-like things as much as it was intangible things, like
people falling in love and stuff." It felt a little awkward saying that.

"But you don't believe it's possible to fall in love that quickly,"
Ben said, recalling our conversation from earlier.

"I don't think it's impossible. I just find it hard to believe it's
possible for my ex."

"Ah, so someone can fall in love quickly as long as it's not your
ex, or if it is, it's with you?"

"If I say yes to that, does that make me sound like a bitch?" It did to me.

"Not in my book. Actually I don't see how someone couldn't fall
in love with you."

Was that another cheesy line or was he trying to tell me
something?
I wasn't sure how to respond, so I did what I normally do when I'm nervous, made light of the situation. "Many have tried not to, but
they've all failed because I'm just that amazing."

"Yeah, I've read that in public restrooms around Atlanta."

I flicked his arm with my finger. "Way to compliment a girl, Ben the musician."

He grabbed my hand. "From what I've seen so far, you are
amazing, Carly."

I knew in that instant that something more than a physical
attraction
was happening between Ben and me. I didn't acknowledge it, but I
felt it deep inside, in my bones.

We sat on that deck until the sun rose, talking about everything and anything, from our favorite colors, to our favorite foods, to the liquors we'll never drink again and why. He told me stories about
growing up
in Atlanta with his mother, and I talked about my parents and growing up north of the city. I shared things with Ben I'd never even shared with my best friends, or even with Matthew. My plans for the
future, how I
wanted to own my own firm some day. How my fear of iguanas
kept me from going to Mexico, his most favorite place in the world.

We talked more about Matthew, though not much, and surprisingly, I
didn't feel anything when his name came up. How could I when someone interesting and kind and ridiculously sexy seemed to
undress me with his eyes while I spoke?

"Maybe you can go with me to Mexico some day," he said. "And
I'll keep the iguanas away from you."

"I might consider it with that promise," I said jokingly, though I wasn't actually joking. A trip with Ben sounded nothing short of heavenly. I was
surprised at how attracted to this stranger I'd begun to feel and how comfortable and relaxed I was with him. I'd never experienced
anything
similar, and even the mention of a trip with him made me want to
pack up and go, with or without iguanas.

As the sun rose, we heard Lou and Stan moving around the old house and we realized we needed to head to our rooms, shower and
make an appearance at breakfast. I certainly didn't want to blow off
two
meals in twenty-four hours, and anyway, all of that talking had made me
hungry.

"I'll see you at breakfast then," Ben said, stretching as he stood. "Maybe you'd like to head back to the creek with me? You could nap
while I work on my songs."

"Actually," I reached my arms up and stretched too, my body stiff
from hours in the chair, "that sounds wonderful. But are you sure I
won't be disturbing you?"

He placed his hands on my shoulders and pulled me close,
bending his head toward me just enough that our foreheads touched. "You're the kind of distraction that inspires me."

His face was so close to mine, his breath so warm against my
face, I was intoxicated, mesmerized. I couldn't move, let alone speak.

Ben's eyes darkened and he tilted his head to the left just a touch
more. Instinctively my head tilted the opposite direction, and our
lips
met in a sweet, sensual kiss that sent my heart pounding out of my chest. His lips were silky and sensuous, and heat built up in my throat, sending probing waves all the way down my body, warming
particular spots so
much I lost my breath. When the kiss ended, a soft, guttural sound
escaped my lips. Ben took that as a sign, and eased his lips onto mine again, first kissing lightly and then deepening the connection with his tongue. It made my body ache with a desire I'd never felt. When
the kiss ended, I was disappointed.

He pulled back and pressed his forehead into mine again. "I'll see you at breakfast then?" His voice was deep and soft and it made
me weak in the knees.

My head pumped up and down fiercely, but I couldn't speak. He grinned mischievously as he opened the door for me. "Don't fall
asleep again. I'll be waiting downstairs."

If I didn't know better, I would have sworn I floated into my room,
not walked. I threw myself on the bed and let out another guttural moan. "That was incredible," I whispered. My eyes darted to the
windows, and
realizing they were opened, dropped my voice further. "Seriously, freaking incredible. Now I know why women are so hot for musicians.
That kiss—that kiss was unbelievable."

Ben was so many good things wrapped up into one sexy package. He was funny. He was sweet. He said what he thought but
not in a
way that upset me. Did I mention how sexy he was? I snuggled into the pillow and realized that I wasn't just hot for the musician, I was
falling
for him. Falling for Ben, the musician that played a few gigs now and then and hung out in the country. I didn't even know if he had a day job or if he could support himself. It wasn't that I wanted a man that
made
a lot of money. I'd proven that to myself by spending five years with Matthew the job hopper. Money didn't matter, but I didn't know if falling for the musician was smart. I'd come to the Inn to forget. I
didn't
come to fall for someone. I didn't come to get my hormones pumped up either, but that had happened anyway. I little fling I could handle, but this thing, whatever it was, nudging me toward Ben, this tiny sensation that beat to the rhythm of my heart, was telling me
that having a fling wasn't going to happen because my feelings were stronger than that.

Matthew had met and supposedly fallen in love with someone in a matter of months and I'd found that impossible. So what was happening to me?

***

"Ya'll ready for some biscuits and gravy topped with scrambled eggs and bacon?" Stan asked as I walked into the dining area.

"And potatoes, Stan. Don't you forget the potatoes," Lou yelled
from the kitchen.

Ben was already sitting at a table, coffee and paper in hand. "I am," he said. "I was up all night and I'm starving." His lips curved
upward,
filling his face with a smile. That smile melted my insides and made
my appendages jello-like.

"Now Ben," Lou said coming out of the kitchen with a tray full of biscuits and a bowl of gravy so full it dripped over the sides and
onto
the tray. "You know you can't be up all night like that and write
another one of them hits. You need your rest."

Hits? I twisted toward Ben and caught his eye, but he just
shrugged.

"Yes, ma'am," he said to Lou. "You're right. A man like me needs his beauty sleep, that's for sure. This mug is already ugly enough
without being tired."

"The last thing that gorgeous face of yours is, is ugly," Lou said. "Ain't I right, Carly?"

"He definitely wears tired well, that's for sure."

"All them girls chasing after him all the time, it's got to take its toll," Stan said. "Why, I consider myself lucky bein' uglier than a goat’s ass like this. The ladies don't never bother me. Keeps me
faithful, this mug a-mine."

"Stan thinks he's so ugly he's got to sneak up on a glass of water to get a drink," Lou said. "But he's the best thing since sliced bread in my book."

"And your book's the only one that matters," Ben said.

"Darn tootin'," Stan said.

I giggled. "Sneak up on a glass of water to get a drink," I
repeated
softly, utterly charmed by the colorful expression and the love that danced off their smiles when they spoke to each other.

"Now you two go on and eat what Lou's cooked for ya. Lawd knows we got enough gravy to feed the whole Confederate army, back in the day," Stan said. "So go on now, eat up." He pointed at the biscuits and gravy.

"He's adorable," I whispered to Ben. "And seriously, this
breakfast looks incredible." I licked my lips.

Ben eyed my lips, and butterflies took flight in my stomach. I looked away, trying to distract myself. "This looks delicious," I said, eyeing the
food on the table. "I think I've gained ten pounds just looking at it." The sausage gravy smelled amazing, and the potatoes reminded me of my grandmother's, little cubes sprinkled with chopped green peppers and onions and black pepper, lots and lots of black pepper.
It was heavenly.

"You'd better eat or Lou's gonna pitch a fit," Stan said.

"We wouldn't want that now, would we?" Ben said, and dug in.

I followed Ben's lead, and two biscuits topped with peppery potatoes,
eggs and dollops of gravy later, I was content and satisfied and completely ready to explode. "Oh my gosh," I said, rubbing my stomach.
"I haven't eaten like that in years." I held back a burp that would have been a relief to let loose, and probably would have really impressed Ben.

"Pretty good, isn't it?" Ben asked.

"If I could cook like that I'd be dead from a heart attack by now."

"Now that's the biggest compliment I ever did get," Lou said, taking our plates from the table. "But you've got a lotta life ahead of you now young lady, and I don't want you doing anything bad to
that little ol'
heart of yours, seein' as Ben here seems to want to steal it. I'd much rather see that than have him settlin' for one o' them music groupies." Lou gave Ben a conspiratorial wink.

I blushed and shot a quick glance at Ben, who was focused on his disappearing plate of food, oblivious to everything else. I wasn't sure what Lou meant by groupies but I figured most singers had
them, and since Ben could sing and was hot, I could see why he would too.

"So you up for a walk to the creek?" he asked, finally looking up from his now empty plate.

"Sure," I said. "Can I just jump in the shower first? I won't be
long, I promise."

We left the table and headed upstairs. "I need a shower too," he
said. "How long do you need?"

"Thirty minutes, tops. That too long?"

"You can get ready in thirty minutes? What are you, some freak of female nature?"

"Yup, all I need is a baseball cap and ponytail holder. Besides,
I'm not wearing make-up."

He pulled me close and brushed a kiss against my lips. "Doesn't look like you need it."

I might have fallen in love right then.

BOOK: The Inn at Laurel Creek
5.42Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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