Tiny Island Summer (5 page)

Darcy yawned.

“I think it’s time for me to go in,” she told him.

“Sure,” Ben agreed, rising to help put out the fire. “I feel bad. I didn’t even pretend to name any constellations for you.”

“Another time then,” Darcy replied with a wink.

She slid in through the glass doors and continued on upstairs, not stopping until she reached the safety of her room. Had she said that? Had she actually flirted? It felt foreign. Her heart raced, longing to hear Ben’s response and also fearing it. Darcy peered around the sheer curtains in her room to see a lone figure walking next door. Whatever his response, it would have to wait until tomorrow. If only her self-assured behavior could hold out.

Avoiding the next-door neighbor proved all too easy for Ben the following day. He slept in as late as he could manage, only to wake up in the afternoon to an empty house. Hearing no sounds from next door, he left for a quick run around the island. He needed to clear his mind.

He absolutely didn’t need Darcy in his life. Whatever strange sensation had overcome him when he met her—he vowed to fight against it.

“I don’t have the time,” Ben whispered as he jogged down the path toward the water’s edge.

He’d repeated that to himself enough over a restless night’s sleep for it to become his unofficial mantra. But he needed to remind himself again. He didn’t have the time, not with everything else in his life. He had too much on his plate. And yet the night before, he’d been drawn to her during their impromptu dessert date.

Date.
Ben shook his head. Why did he even think to call it that? He’d only intended to help her and be on his way. He’d had no intention of startling her or inviting himself over. Ben’s jaw clenched and his palms itched remembering the feel of her in his arms.

He’d been trying to watch TV in the living room when movement from next door had caught his peripheral vision. She’d struggled first with pulling out the fire pit then with trying to start a fire. Ben smiled in spite of himself, remembering the pathetic pile of sticks and newspaper.

He hadn’t wanted to get involved last night. But his treacherous feet had other ideas, and he found himself outside with her, talking and enjoying her company. Darcy lacked guile, and he found that refreshing and somehow even more intoxicating. He knew that when talking with her he actually was getting to know her and not some carefully crafted, thoughtful image. He needed more people like that in his life—more people who believed in honesty and didn’t have a hidden agenda.

Ben paused in a clearing to catch his breath. He had to stop thinking about her. He’d start following her around and trying to spend time with her if he wasn’t careful. It simply wasn’t the time. A voice inside his head that sounded an awful lot like his mom reminded him that it was never the right time for anything that could change your life, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t worth pursuing.

Mom.
Ben sighed. He turned around and ran home.

John still hadn’t returned by the time Ben finished his shower, so he decided to head down to the Beach Club for a late lunch/early dinner. He walked into town and let muscle memory take him straight to his favorite booth overlooking the lake. He didn’t realize the booth was occupied until it was too late.

Sitting in the booth, with papers strewn everywhere in front of her and a stack of photographs in her hands, was Darcy. Of course. She looked up, her face a mixture of surprise and confusion. As comprehension dawned, she smiled and cleared away some papers, making room for him.

“Hi, Ben please sit down. Sorry,” she apologized and gestured to the seat opposite of her.

Ben hesitated, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
Why can’t I seem to excuse myself and walk away?
He stared down at her, feeling his traitorous lips contort into a genuine smile.

“It’s okay if you’re busy,” Darcy rushed to add, turning a delightful shade of pink that stretched over her cheeks and over her ears.

“No, no. I haven’t eaten today yet,” Ben replied. He sank into the chair opposite her.

“Really?” she asked, her eyes wide.

Ben shrugged.

“I don’t think I could ever forget to eat,” she mumbled. Ben raised an eyebrow at her confession. “I actually haven’t even ordered more than an iced tea. We can eat together.” Darcy gathered up still more papers and shoved them into her bag.

“What is all this?” he asked.

“Work. I’m doing a pre-appraisal,” she replied.

Ben frowned.

“Oh sorry. Forgot that you’re not John. I work for an auction house. I’m putting estimates together for this property based on photos.”

“You can do that?”

“Well, yes and no. I’m making a lot of assumptions about quality and age based on these photos. But it’s still helpful. It gives me an idea of what the estate might be worth and whether or not it makes sense for us to help.”

“You don’t always sell?”

Darcy shook her head. “Sometimes the numbers just don’t add up. We still have to ship the estate to the Chicago office for sale. Packing up an entire house’s contents, from dishes and flatware to large armoires and dining room tables, takes a lot of time. And then unpacking, photographing and properly cataloging when the estate reaches the auction house takes even more. That’s a lot of work spread out amongst a lot of people. It gets expensive very quickly to sell property.”

Ben nodded.

“So this is what you do for a living? Look at pictures and come up with prices?” he joked.

Darcy furrowed her brow and scowled. His joke had missed its mark. But he wasn’t going to apologize. If she couldn’t take a little ribbing, then she probably wasn’t worth his time, he decided.

Why do I have to keep reminding myself to stay away from her?
he wondered. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.

“And how do you spend your time? Sleeping in?” she asked archly.

Ben opened his mouth to call a truce when the waitress appeared to take their order. As Darcy ordered , Ben couldn’t stop himself from assessing the waitress. Had the waitresses shorts always been that short? Or the shirts that tight? Darcy caught his eye and glared. The waitress took his order, unnecessarily put a hand on his arm, and then winked.

“Really?” Darcy asked. She didn’t meet his eyes. Ben bit his lip; he couldn’t help but notice how her eyes darted around the room, never quite meeting his face.

“What?” Ben aimed for ignorance. He slouched back in his chair. Teasing her could prove to be his favorite pastime this summer.

“I can’t believe you were flirting with her.” Darcy hissed. Her eyes fixed on the table.

“I was not flirting,” Ben replied, his eyes never leaving her face.

Darcy practically had steam shooting out of her ears. She looked adorable so angry. He wanted to laugh but didn’t want to send her over the edge.

“Come on, let’s make peace. I didn’t mean to offend you about your job.”

“Okay, fine,” Darcy bit out.

Ben refused to defend himself about the waitress. It wasn’t as if he were on a date with this girl. He had nothing to defend. He’d done nothing wrong. He hadn’t even been checking her out in the first place. At least, not in the way Darcy had assumed.

Ben cleared his throat. “Have you seen my brother today, by any chance?” Ben asked, trying to change the subject.

Darcy shook her head.

“Have you seen your friend today then?” Ben asked.

Darcy shook her head again.

“Are you going to answer me with words or have I not apologized enough?” he asked.

Darcy rolled her eyes and looked away. The waitress returned with their food, and as far as Ben could tell, she had pulled her shirt lower and somehow tighter. One whiff of pepper and an inopportune sneeze and she’d be arrested for indecent exposure. Darcy must have noticed. Her hands clenched into tight fists on the table. Ben wanted to reach over and smooth her hands flat. He wanted to let her in on the joke of how ridiculous the entire scenario was for him. But some other part of him wanted to let her suffer for the role she had apparently determined for him—lazy playboy.

“Thank you,” he told the waitress with a smile.

She beamed back at him and touched his arm again. “Anything you need, just ask,” she said in the huskiest voice she could probably manage.

The waitress sauntered away, leaving her hand on his arm for as long as possible.

Darcy huffed and stared daggers at her retreating figure.

Ben couldn’t help but laugh. Finally, Darcy turned to look directly into his eyes. The anger simmering behind her eyes took his breath away. He’d let it go too far.

“Ben, this is not funny. I can’t believe her behavior.”

“Oh come on Darcy, she’s just being nice. She works for tips,” Ben replied, shrugging his shoulders.

“That’s not all she works for,” Darcy muttered under her breath.

Ben roared with laughter at that.

“What if this had been a date? Could you imagine?” she sputtered with her righteous indignation.

“A date?” Ben asked, he quirked an eyebrow at her.

Darcy squirmed and turned pink again. She seemed to do that at the slightest provocation, Ben noted. How annoying that must be for her.

“Not with you. But you know what I mean.”

Ben didn’t reply. He rather liked watching her discomfort.

“I know better now than to bring a date here.”

“You have a lot of dates coming up?” Ben teased.

He’d meant it lightly but found himself hanging on to her response. The shrug she offered did not satisfy him. Not at all.

They tucked into their food. Darcy raced to eat. She looked to her watch in a big show of needing to hurry out of there. But her actions were utterly transparent. Ben enjoyed the entire ridiculous scenario, but maybe Darcy didn’t. She practically ate her sandwich whole.

“I’ve got to get going,” she told Ben, pulling out her wallet.

“Sure. Me too. I’d probably better find John.”

Ben signaled for the waitress.

“No, no. You can stay,” Darcy protested.

But Ben ignored her and signaled for the waitress. Before Darcy could pull out her purse, Ben had asked the waitress for a to-go box and given her his credit card.

“Ben you didn’t have to do that.”

“Not at all. Now we’re even after the s’mores,” he replied.

The waitress came back with the box, the check, and an extra piece of paper. Ben slipped it into his wallet, doing so rather obviously to get a rise out of Darcy again. He couldn’t resist.

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t say anything.

“Shall we go?” he asked.

Darcy got up from the table and left, Ben followed in her wake. They walked down Main Street in silence.

“I can’t believe you took her phone number.”

“She seems like fun.”

“She seems like she’s easy,” Darcy muttered under her breath.

Ben chuckled.

“It’s true.” Darcy said. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. “Besides, relationships in which the girl aggressively approaches the guy never work out.”

“Oh? You’re an authority on this?” he asked. Ben couldn’t keep his voice steady. Her silly statement threatened his composure.

She reddened. “No, of course not. I’ve read about this sort of thing, and they say that if you don’t let him chase you, you’ll never earn his love or his respect.”

“Ah, let me guess.
Cosmo
told you this,” he replied. Ben nudged her shoulder with his.

She blushed even more.

“And who says she’s looking for love,” he continued. “Maybe she’s after something casual and fun.”

Darcy snorted. “Ben, do you honestly believe that? That there are women who aren’t looking for someone to settle down with?”

“Sure, why not?” he asked.

“Because that’s against our very nature. The desire to fall in love, settle down, and pop out a couple of kids comes along with the ovaries. I think a woman, any woman, let’s take the waitress as an example, might pretend to have everything under control. Your waitress probably fooled herself into thinking she only wants a fling or casual sex.”

Before he could even think of how to respond, she reddened.
Had saying the word sex embarrassed her?
Ben didn’t know if that was charming or alarming.

“But for a girl,” she continued after a moment’s pause, “it’s never casual. It’s emotional and complicated, not as purely physical as it is for a guy. So, you can call her and ‘have fun.’ But you’ll get bored instantly because getting her wasn’t difficult at all. Before long you’ll be looking for someone new, and that’s when she’ll begin to stalk you.”

He chuckled at that.
How had this conversation gone so far astray?

“Stalking? Don’t you think that’s a little extreme? Don’t you think you’re being a little too hard on your gender?” he asked.

“No, not at all. I speak as I find,” she replied with a shrug.

He laughed harder.

“What do you think Facebook’s for?” she asked. “Or Instagram or Twitter or anything? She’ll befriend you and then start a constant vigil, following your every status update and scouring every picture you’re tagged in, analyzing each detail. She’ll try throwing herself at you again after enough time has passed and she can assure herself that you have no clue what you’re missing. But the truth is, you’ll sleep with her but never be interested in her because she made it too easy. She never gave you a challenge, so you’ll never respect her enough to even try to go after her. You’ll let her do all the work however many times she chooses to go after you.”

The comment hit its mark and sobered him up. His laughter abruptly stopped as he considered her outspoken opinions.

“You have a very low opinion of me,” he said.

Ben kept his voice low in an attempt at masking his emotion. He didn’t find it cute and no longer wanted to goad. Had he forced her to speak like this? If so, he regretted it. But he couldn’t pretend to like this part of her personality. Maybe honesty had its limits.

“No, not at all,” she rushed to correct. “I have a low opinion of her for pathetically throwing herself at you. I think you’re a guy, and you’ll act accordingly.”