Totally and Completely Fine(71)

“Correct answer. You’re going to take a left up here.”

“Where are we going again?” he asked.

“I haven’t told you,” I said. “Another left at the stop sign and then a right just after the fence.”

“I thought you hated surprises,” Ben said as he followed my instructions.

“It’s not a surprise for me,” I said. “And I figured you liked them.”

He grinned at that, just barely visible in the dark. We were far from streetlights and window-lined neighborhoods.

I didn’t tell him that the actual surprise was that I’d agreed to go with him in the first place. I should have been home. Alone. In bed.

I was getting tired of shoulds.

“You can park here,” I said.

He did and shut off the pickup. All we had was the light from the moon, which was round and full and bright above.

“Now are you going to tell me where we are?”

“The Ridge,” I said.

“That actually means nothing to me.”

I smiled. “It’s the make-out spot in town.”

“I see,” Ben said. He undid his seatbelt, then without missing a beat, undid mine.

He leaned forward, but I put my hand on his chest.

“We should talk.”

“You brought me to the local make-out spot to talk?” Ben asked. “I’m getting dizzy from all the mixed signals you’re sending.”

He leaned back against his seat.

“But I’m happy to talk,” he said. “In fact, I’m pretty sure you like it when I talk too.”

I knew what he was referring to. He was very mouthy in bed. And I did like it.

“That’s exactly what we need to talk about.”

Ben waited for me to continue.

“I like you, but—”

“I like you too,” Ben said.

Those fucking eyes of his.

“It’s complicated,” I said, feeling like a broken record.

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said.

I held back a snort. “Sure,” I said.

“Go on a date with me,” he said.

“What?”

“A date.” Ben gave me a grin. “You know, those things you go on with other men and then shag me after.”

“I don’t—”

“Dinner,” he said. “That’s all I’m asking.”

“You make it sound so simple,” I said.

“And you make it sound so complex,” he said. “I like you. You like me. I really like having sex with you, and I’m pretty sure you enjoy yourself as well.”

The mother of all understatements.

“You’re only here for a few months,” I said.

“And?” he asked. “There is this thing called a telephone. You can communicate with it—in multiple ways.”

“I know how to use a phone,” I said.

“Do you?”

“Touché,” I said.

He shifted in his seat, fully facing me.

“A date,” he said. “And maybe we’ll go to my place afterward. And maybe we’ll go on another date. And another. And then maybe I’ll have to leave.”

“And then?”

“And then we figure it out,” he said. “I’m actually quite good at problem-solving.”

I had a sneaking suspicion that Ben could talk me into nearly anything if he kept looking at me like that. He made my reservations melt away, and it suddenly seemed silly that I wasn’t willing to give it a try.

He was asking for a date.

I’d gone out with far worse men already, why not give Ben a chance?

Because he was going to leave.

At least I’d have good sex until he left. Eventually another role, another offer would come along, and he’d have to go. And I’d have to stay.

But there was the part of me—that small, quiet voice in the back of my head—that whispered: What if he didn’t leave? What if it worked out?

That voice was an idiot, obviously.

He had a life—a career—that would take him away from Cooper. From this.

Ben was smiling at me.

“Okay,” I said.

There was a long pause.

“Okay?”

I nodded. “A date.” I held up a finger. “One date.”

“One date,” he said. “At a time.”

We sat there in the car.

“Does this count?” I asked.

He laughed. “Fuck no,” he said. “Maybe if we were teenagers, but we’re adults. I’m going to take you to dinner.”

“Not in Cooper,” I said.

He didn’t actually roll his eyes, but it was implied.

“Fine,” he said. “We can go to dinner somewhere else.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“I can be a gentleman,” he said.

I sighed. He was being so patient with me. I was being a dick.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

He leaned his head back against the seat and looked over at me.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I get it.”

“Small towns,” I said.

“Small towns,” he agreed. “Love ’em and hate ’em.”