Whoa. I made a mental note:learn magic card trick.
“Uh, thanks,” Ben said, holding Alice’s card gingerly by a corner, as if she’d slipped it out of somewhere other than her sleeve.
“Call me the next time you’re in town,” she sang over her shoulder, blowing Ben a kiss.
The minute Alice was out of hearing distance, Ben spun to me. “How did you recognize Eugene?”
I patted the side of his smooth, freshly shaved face. “Oh, sweet summer child. I have no idea what that man looks like.”
Ben’s mouth twisted, and I resisted the urge to let my fingers drift to his lips. “Just because you saved me in the end doesn’t mean I forgive you for the last hour. You’re the worst campaign partner of all time, you know.”
I grabbed his very full glass of wine and sipped it. “On the contrary. While you were making time with Alice, I gave outevery single oneof our pamphlets.” I spread my fingers over the empty spot on the table where the pamphlets had been displayed. “Really, you’re the slacker.”
Ben looked up at the tent ceiling, seeming to call for strength from some divine source. “Fine. You’re just the worst friend. How’s that?”
This was much better. First, he’d called me a friend. Second, I liked mean, quippy Ben. It was silent, distant, morose Ben—the Ben he’d been for the last two weeks, ever since Ely’s—that I couldn’t handle. Seriously. Every time I’d seen him lately, he’d looked upset and disheveled, and wouldn’t say more than two words to me. Tonight was a vast improvement. Thank you, wines of the world.
I put down the glass and gripped his hands. Ben cocked an eyebrow, but didn’t pull away.
“Don’t tell me you’re actually sad you had to suffer through a night of free booze.” I pressed his hands together. “The BenIremember would sit through three-hour law review meetings just to get the free pizza at the end. Old,funBen used to work the college lecture circuit just for the watered-down wine.”
Amusement curved his mouth into a smile, then spread, glowing in his eyes. “Oh, yeah? Old, fun Ben?” He lifted my hands and spun me like we were dancing. I stopped with my back to him, our clasped hands crossed over my chest.
“You’re remembering old,brokeBen,” he said into my ear, and I shivered with my whole body. I hadn’t realized he’d stepped so close. “And no, I’m not sad about the free wine. The only thing that hurts is the delight you take in feeding me to the wolves.”
“Guilty,” I said, resisting the urge to turn my head and close the inch of space between us. His arms around me were making my heart race. Oh, I was guilty, all right.
Because I, Lee Amelia Stone, had stacks and stacks of willpower when it came to fighting for Lise and Dakota and the environment. But when it was Lee vs. the forbidden? I was as wobbly as a Jenga tower missing half its blocks. No, scratch that. I was a Jenga tower missing half its blocks, who’d always wondered to itself how deliciously bad it would feel to just let it all go and topple. I needed to resist my natural instincts, before I did something that threw Ben and me back to square one.
Ben’s breath was a tickle at my throat. “Every time I looked at you for help, you winked and smiled that wicked smile that means you’re fully aware you’re doing something bad and you’re happy about it. Absolutely no empathy.”
“As a lawyer, you should know I can’t let you get away with slander. If I was to concede there was a little less intervention than there could have been, it’s only because—”When you turn red with embarrassment, my pulse races.When I watch you laugh, it reminds me of every time I’ve ever made you do it. Because I got to stand here and look at you, uninterrupted, for an hour.
“—I knew it would put me at a competitive advantage.” I brushed away the inconvenient thoughts and dropped his hands, stepping out of his arms and spinning to face him. “Who would have thought—Mr. Professionalism, getting drunk on the job. Now the work glory’s all mine.”
He smiled again. A lazy, sexy grin that was the best advertisement wine could ever hope for. “To quote a paragon of propriety, the festival’s over.” He hunched up his shoulders and started moonwalking backward. “It’s officially Laderman o’clock.”
I shook my head. “You are inrareform tonight. I’ve got an idea. Let’s keep you drunk all the time. I like you like this.”
Ben laughed. “I likeyoulike this.”
Just like that, the air between us lit with electricity. I froze, not wanting to make the wrong move. Ben had a girlfriend. And he’d tasted a lot of wine, so even if I wasn’t imagining this charge between us, that explained it.
I cleared my throat. “So. Who’d you have to sleep with to get us into this festival, anyway?” I was embarrassed by how weak my voice sounded, but I was doing the right thing by changing the subject. That was what mattered. For once, I was standing on the moral high ground.
And I was also genuinely curious. Ben’s idea to come here tonight was brilliant. The Hudson County Wine Festival was sponsored by Mendax Oil, and the event was full of Mendax employees. I’d seen enough interested, contemplative expressions when I’d passed out our Green Machine pamphlets—along with an on-brand glass of vinho verde, Portuguese green wine—to think maybe we had a fighting chance at winning over McBuck’s constituents. The mystery was how Ben had heard about the event,andhow he’d scored us a seat at the enemy’s table. Or a booth, to be exact.
The charge in the air disappeared with my question. Ben looked away, suddenly fascinated by a loose thread on his sweater, which was the exact cerulean of his eyes. “I may have overheard Sarah talking about it a while ago...and called the festival...pretending to be from McGraw & Klein,” he mumbled.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Ben, you dirty dog. Spying on your girlfriend for intel. Ice-cold. I approve.”
You’re doing the right thing for once, Stoner.This was good, really it was. Maybe I could explore this whole restraint thing—lean in to this upstanding-choices kink—like a new fetish.
Ben’s face radiated intensity. “I didn’t use anyone.” A lock of his dark hair fell over his forehead. “And there’s actually something I wanted to tell—”
“Benjamin?” called a high, familiar voice.
I ducked my head. “Incoming. Sexagenarian at twelve o’clock.”
