I sip my champagne, letting the breeze and the gentle slap-slapping of the waves against the hull fill the silence. It’s relaxing. Almost hypnotic. Not that I need to relax. I’m totally chill. But I know someone else who does. And he’s standing right next to me.
“It must be hard seeing him,” I say as gently as I can.
Not gently enough, apparently, because Ben still bristles, his hands gripping the rail so hard I swear I can see the whites of his knuckles. “He’s my best friend. I see him all the time.”
“I mean seeing him here. On the circuit.”
He polishes off what’s left in his glass and stares out at the shore, becoming more distant with each passing second. “Do we have to talk about this? It’s a party. We’re supposed to be having fun.”
“We’re supposed to be showing everyone what great pals we are,” I counter. “What better way to do that than actually getting to know each other a little better?”
“Fine. Ask me anything you want. Anything,” he adds quickly, “but that.”
“Okay.” I draw the word out, so it comes out sounding like “ooookaaaay.”
“And for every question you ask me, I get to ask you one.”
I turn to face him. He’s not staring out over the water anymore. He’s staring at me, his eyes dark and intense, boring into me like they can see into my soul. It’s unsettling. And intimidating. And hot as hell.
“Deal.” I resist the urge to stick out my hand so we can shake on it. If I touch him, I might never stop. And this isn’t about sex. It’s about making a different kind of connection.
“You first.” He inclines his head at me.
“Not so fast.” I hold up a cautionary finger. “You got to pick an off-limits topic. I want one, too.”
“That’s only fair,” he agrees.
“I choose—” I pause, drawing out the suspense. I know full well what—or who—my off-limits topic is going to be. I’m just enjoying making Ben sweat. “—my father.”
I hold my breath as I wait for his reaction. Ben is one of the few people who hasn’t brought up my dad within two minutes of meeting me. Or been obsessed with continuously comparing me to him. I mentally cross my fingers that isn’t about to change.
He shrugs and goes back to staring at the ocean. “Fine by me.”
My heart flip flops. It scares me, how much I want him to like me for me, not for my family connections or my money. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling—living in Archie Lewis’s long shadow is something I’ve had to deal with my whole life. But it’s like the dial has been turned up to full throttle.
I should probably examine that further. But right now I’m intent on examining Ben’s profile in the waning light. His strong brow, the barely noticeable bump on the bridge of his otherwise perfect nose, his chiseled cheekbones, the firm jaw permanently dotted with sexy salt-and-pepper stubble.
“I’m ready when you are,” he says, drumming his fingers on the rail.
Right. I’m supposed to ask the first question. I’ve been so preoccupied with his movie-star good looks, I haven’t come up with one yet.
“Do you have any pets?” I blurt. Okay I know what you’re thinking. As questions go, it’s pretty lightweight, right? Wrong. If he says he hates dogs or thinks cats are the devil, that could be a deal breaker. I don’t trust people who don’t like animals. In my experience, they tend to be dicks.
Besides, I’ll get to the really tough stuff later.
He faces me again. I can tell that he’s trying his best not to smile, but the corners of his mouth keep twitching upwards. “Out of all the questions you could have asked, that’s the one you chose?”
“Hey, it’s not that bad. You can tell a lot about someone from what kind of pets they have. Or don’t have.”
“I have two cats.”
Just like I thought. Totally not a dick. “What are their names? Do they travel with you? If not, who takes care of them when you’re on the road?”
“Not so fast. It’s my turn.”
“Okay,” I concede. “Ask away.”
He turns his back to the rail, crossing his feet at the ankles and hooking his thumbs in the pockets of his tuxedo pants. In that pose, he looks like he could have been up there on the runway tonight, and it’s all I can do to concentrate on the words coming out of his mouth.
