Never Too Much Read online

  “No.” Sierra had no intention of telling him the foolish plans from her youth. They were long gone. “But I worked for a landscaper for a while and realized I loved it and had a knack for it.”

  “A summer job?”

  She shrugged. “A way to pay for school and rack up experience.”

  “You said you like physical labor?”

  He sounded puzzled by that. “Yeah, don’t you enjoy using your muscles?” She eyed his upper body. “You’ve got enough of them.”

  He smiled lazily. “Thank you.”

  Sierra caught herself. She’d sort of meant that as a gibe because with his open shirt and posture he all but flaunted himself and it kept distracting her—but it had come out as a compliment.

  She sighed, giving it up. “You’re welcome.”

  “I take it you enjoy using your muscles, too?”

  “That’s right. I’m small but strong, and I like staying fit.” To change the subject, she said, “Tell me about your motel.” If he talked, that meant she could eat, and she wouldn’t say the wrong thing again.

  “All right.” Hooking another chair with his ankle, Ben pulled it around and propped his feet up. “This place was a real dive when I bought it. Run-down, dirty, fights every damn night. There’s still the occasional brawl, but it’s better.”

  “You ever in those brawls?”

  His eyes glittered. “When necessary.”

  This time Sierra did laugh. “No doubt you enjoy yourself.”

  He shrugged but didn’t deny it. “I repaired the built-in pool for summer use, added a game room with two pool tables, a jukebox, some coin games. It’s been a challenge getting it in order, making a profit. No way in hell am I going to let a rowdy drunk tear stuff up.”

  “Sounds like a lot of work.” Sierra guessed his age to be somewhere in his late twenties. He’d accomplished a lot, and her admiration expanded.

  “True, but it’s been fun for the most part.”

  “You like a challenge.” He’d already labeled her his newest challenge.

  “Guilty.” His smile promised she’d like it, too. Sierra looked away, and he continued. “I had to hire a lot of new staff, but I started with an excellent evening cook. My brother runs an upscale restaurant, among other things, and he taught me how important it is to give customers good food. Horace may look like a mean son of a bitch, but he’s a whiz in the kitchen. Customers are always surprised by the quality of the meals.”

  “The sandwich is great.” She eyed it, considering. “It doesn’t taste like a regular old sandwich. There’s something different about it.”

  He looked pleased that she’d mentioned it. “Horace buys a special kind of bread, bakes it here, then uses his own sauce as a condiment; something he whips up when no one is looking. The recipe is real secret stuff. Even I don’t know what he puts in it. The customers love it. He’s training the morning cook, a younger guy, to do some special things with bagels and doughnuts and croissants.”

  Sierra nearly groaned. “Doughnuts are one of my weaknesses.”

  Ben gave her a casual, calculated look. “Is that right? Stop by in the morning and I’ll feed you again.”

  “More neighborly offerings?”

  He lifted one broad shoulder. “Could be the best way to a woman’s heart is through her stomach.”

  Sierra waved a pickle slice at him, determined to hold her own. “You don’t want my heart.”

  He laughed, and even his damn laugh was appealing. “True,” Ben said. “But if food can seduce the heart, maybe it can seduce the body, too.”

  “Need help with that, do you?”

  “Just trying to find a shortcut. I’m . . . impatient.”

  Oh, the way he said that. It made her impatient, too. Sierra forced a look of nonchalance to hide her turmoil. It was the absolute worst time for her to start flirting. “I know you don’t know me well, Ben, but let me clue you in. It’d take more than a doughnut to get me into bed.”

  “Ah, more challenge.”

  Sierra barely covered her laugh. He was a shameless rogue, and if she weren’t careful, she’d end up doing something really stupid.

  She needed to get away from him now.

  With her hunger mostly appeased, Sierra became more aware of her exhaustion. She stood and stretched. “Do all men in Gillespe move so fast?”

  Ben stood too, much taller than she, much more powerful. “And here I thought I exemplified patience. After all, I’ve known you”—he glanced at the watch on his thick wrist—“almost forty minutes now and despite a powerful desire, I’ve held myself in check.”

  Sierra snorted at that idiotic remark, then stuck out her hand. “Thanks again for the meal and the . . . warm welcome to the neighborhood. I appreciate it.”

  Ben took her hand, but rather than indulge in a friendly handshake, he enfolded her fingers in his own and held on. “Doughnuts tomorrow?”

  Would it really hurt anything? She was new to the area, and she’d noted the convenience of his diner right away. Since she wasn’t much of a cook but loved to eat, it’d be handy to have a friendship with the owner.

  Still feeling undecided, she warned, “I have to start working by eight.”

  “We’ll be open. A lot of truckers come in early.”

  Still she hesitated. He allowed her to tug her hand free, holding to his promise that he wouldn’t push her. At least not too much.

  “Sierra?” He leaned down to see her. “Stop by and I’ll have some coffee ready, too.”

  She hadn’t even unpacked her personal things yet, much less her coffeepot. She had a hard time starting the day without coffee, and she’d intended to drop into a coffee shop somewhere anyway . . .

  At least, those were the reasons she gave herself, and damn it, they were good reasons.

  “All right.” She turned away, determined to make her escape before she found another excuse to linger. “Now I really need to get going.”

  Ben fell into step beside her. As they reentered the bar, he took her elbow. Most of the customers had left and only one waitress remained. The place was now quiet and subdued and it felt as if those still in attendance again made note of Ben’s stroll across the floor. Sierra thought of how she was dressed, her messy hair and dirty hands and sweaty face. She wanted to cringe.

  Amazing, that Ben—such an incredibly handsome man—claimed to want her. When she cleaned up and wore makeup and had her hair fixed, she supposed she made a nice enough appearance. But it had been ages since she’d bothered because it had been ages since she’d had the time or inclination to worry about attracting a man.

  She shook her head. She wasn’t interested in attracting a man now, either.

  Ben glanced at her. “What?”

  They stepped through the door into the humid night air. “I was just thinking it must be a full moon, even though it’s so dark I can’t see the moon.” She stopped, which forced Ben to stop.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “No reason.” She wasn’t about to explain that she felt different, sort of unsettled. Because of him. She forced a smile. “Well, good night.”

  He looked down at her, his expression enigmatic. Somehow, he shifted closer without seeming to move. “I’m walking you to your truck.”

  Sierra felt his nearness in the gloomy night, and it felt different than a mere physical positioning. It was . . . warmer, almost static.

  “I’m not going to my truck.”

  One brow rose high. “No? Then how do you expect to get home?”

  She looked across the lot and into the darkness toward her new home. “I guess I didn’t explain that part. I live in the small house next to the shop.”

  “Small house?” Ben turned, too, to peer through the darkness. A flood lamp in her parking lot barely lit the surrounding area. “You mean that . . . hut? I thought that was just a building to store flowers or something.” He turned back to her with a frown. “You can live in there?”

  Because that had been her fi
rst reaction, Sierra didn’t take offense. In fact, the original owner had intended the building as a mere convenience for the workers, not as living quarters. But it had a fully functioning, if minuscule, kitchen, complete with phone hookup, and an apartment-size stove and refrigerator. The bathroom had a shower stall, and there were two other rooms that had been used for storage but would now be her living room/office and bedroom. That is, if she ever got unpacked.

  “It’s small, but it’s not a hut. Actually, it’s kind of nice. And cozy. And I’m only one person, so I don’t need a lot of room.”

  Not quite convinced, Ben shook his head. “I’ll walk you to your door then.”

  “Not necessary.” She gestured at her legs. “Everything is operational. I can make it there all on my own.”

  Just as she finished speaking, lightning flashed close by, making them both jump. The accompanying thunder was loud enough to shake the ground.

  “Wow.”

  Ben took her arm. “Come on. We better get going before we get soaked.” When she hesitated, he sighed and said, “Okay, have it your way. I’ll just follow behind to make sure you get inside okay.”

  “You intend to follow me?”

  “You make me sound like a stalker.” He chucked her chin. “I’m not that desperate. It’s just that my mother raised me as a gentleman.”

  “And you think to protect me from—what? The rain? There’s no one out here but us.”

  A gusting wind that was both refreshing and a bit alarming in its ferocity swallowed up her words. Sierra felt a fat raindrop hit her nose, then another and another until they were spattering the ground all around her. Not willing to get caught in a downpour, she started away, leaving Ben to do as he pleased.

  The rain started in earnest and she broke into a jog. She could hear Ben trotting along behind her, resolute in his gentlemanly purpose, despite the downpour.

  They reached the shelter of a large elm that shaded her front door and the small overhang on her new home. Ben crowded in close to her, trying to get out of the rain. They were both soaked and breathing hard.

  Sierra fished her key out of her pocket, got the door open, and reached inside for the light switch. A dim, bare bulb glowed, lighting the small stoop.

  Feeling safer, she turned back to Ben—and stalled. His raven hair, now wet, hung over his brow and stuck to his forehead and temples. His black lashes were spiked from the rain, his shirt clinging to his chest, shoulders and upper arms.

  He was so appealing he took her breath away.

  Not even trying to hide his curiosity, Ben leaned toward her—nearly stopping her heart—but he only peeked inside her new home. Boxes sat everywhere, nearly hiding the unmade twin bed that had been placed temporarily against an outside wall, directly under a large window. The bed was the only thing she’d set up so far.

  His gaze came back to hers. “Cozy, huh?”

  “Good-bye, Ben.” To her chagrin, her voice sounded like a croak. But she could smell him, musky and sensual and male. She could feel his heat and his vitality. It shook her.

  Of course, Ben noticed. A slow smile curled his mouth as he looked down at her. “Damn.” His voice was low and deep. He brushed a wet tendril of hair away from her cheek, and his hand lingered, his fingertips rough, warm on her skin. “I want to kiss you, Sierra.”

  Rainwater dripped from her nose. She swiped it away with an impatient hand.

  “I don’t understand it,” he continued, sounding almost as confused as she felt. His hand opened, cupped her head. “I barely know you, and it’s not like you’re trying to turn me on. Hell, you’re not even being all that nice. But you’re making me nuts.”

  The look in his eyes, the things that he said, nearly undid her. Sierra believed he wasn’t trying to seduce her with words, but rather telling her truthfully how he felt, spelling it out. He’d been open about his intentions since meeting her—and that wasn’t something she ever expected from men.

  She swallowed hard. “This isn’t a good idea.”

  “Just one small kiss?” His voice was hot enough to turn the rain to steam. He leaned closer. “A peck. Very brief.” Closer. “I promise it’ll be over with before you know it.”

  His provocative words faded away into the storm, and then his mouth touched hers. Sierra went still, holding her breath, her body hot with a riot of sensations.

  Oh damn, he smelled so good.

  And his mouth was so warm . . .

  “Sierra?”

  Devastated, she blinked and saw his small smile, the intensity of his expression. Well, shoot. He was right.

  It had ended before she realized. “Hmmm?”

  He drew a breath. “See you in the morning.”

  And like the walking temptation she now knew him to be, Ben strolled away. He seemed unconcerned with the rain that pelted him and the wind that tossed his hair. Sierra thought she even heard a faint whistling.

  She stepped inside and slammed her door. Damn, damn, damn.

  Ben walked into the bar, soaked to the skin and sizzling with sensation.

  He was frankly dumbstruck.

  One tiny kiss, not even worthy of a grade-school kid, and he was hard. Unbelievable. And exciting.

  But if that one tiny, almost avuncular kiss had burned so much, what would it feel like to get on top of her? To feel her hands on him, her mouth on him?

  It would be incredible, and he could hardly wait. He understood her game of advance and retreat, and now he was positive that he’d eventually have her. But waiting was going to be pure hell. He closed his eyes and tried to regain his control.

  Molly, a female truck driver who also happened to be one of his best customers, strolled up to him. “It takes a real reprobate to be out fooling around in that storm.”

  Ben cocked one eye open. He thought all the customers had left. “I wasn’t fooling around.”

  “Uh-huh. Honey, I’ve seen that look on more male faces than I care to remember.”

  “ ’S that right? And what look would that be?”

  “The look of Lust, sweet cheeks, with a capital L.”

  “Unrequited lust, Molly.” Though no music played, Ben caught her hands and swept her into a formal dance, gliding her across the floor, around the tables.

  The waitress dodged them, smacking at Ben’s behind with the dishcloth she’d been using to wipe off the tables, so she could go home for the night.

  Molly was easily fifty-five, very hard edged, and what could only be called sturdy. But she laughed like a schoolgirl, and her eyes twinkled at Ben’s attention. He loved women, all ages, all kinds—and they knew it.

  She batted her eyelashes at him. “Say it ain’t so, Ben. You’ve actually been turned down?” She rolled her eyes and patted his chest. “The girl is a fool.”

  “The girl is . . . different.” Ben dipped Molly back, laughed, and then kissed her cheek. He straightened them both.

  Molly tugged her extra-large T-shirt back into place. “Different, as in odd?”

  “Different, as in unique.” Ben rubbed his hands together. “Very unique.”

  Molly said, “Ah, I see. Different, as in special.”

  Ben froze. “Did I say special?”

  “You don’t need to.”

  Ben felt momentarily stunned.

  The place was now empty except for the waitress who applauded them both on their dancing skills. She said, “Why don’t you go call your special, unique new girlfriend so I can get the hell out of here?”

  Thankful for the distraction, Ben saluted her. “Yes ma’am. But take an umbrella. It’s raining like hell and I don’t want you to melt.”

  “I’m not sugar, Ben.”

  He winked. “Close enough.”

  Molly shook her head at him. “I gotta get on the road.” She peeked outside, squared her broad shoulders and shouted back to Ben, “See you in a week or two, honey.”

  “Take care, Molly. Don’t run over any possum.” He pushed in a few remaining chairs. The waitress came ou
t, bundled in a slicker, umbrella in hand. “Go on,” Ben told her. “I’ll lock up.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.” He wasn’t ready to settle down yet. He was still charged, still tingling from that pathetic little kiss. A unique kiss but not special. He scowled and held the door open. “Drive careful, hear?”

  “Of course, Ben. Don’t worry about me.” She patted his chest, then disappeared out the door.

  Ben watched till she made it to her car and got inside—as he’d told Sierra, he was a gentleman—then he went about securing all the locks.

  Like Sierra, he lived at his business. His living quarters connected to both the diner and the motel, located between them. It had taken a little time to get used to the noise, the lack of privacy, but it was a lot cheaper than trying to maintain a separate residence and with all the improvements the place had needed, cheaper definitely meant better.

  He went through the back door of the diner, secured it, and stepped into a hallway leading to the front desk. Two clerks were on duty, Wendy handling some paperwork, Gary talking on the phone. Ben gave them both a wave before unlocking the door to his suite.

  Unlike the rest of the rooms, he had a regular key rather than a key card. He’d learned the hard way that some of his female employees liked to surprise him by making use of the key cards and waiting in his bed. Naked.

  Ben grinned, just remembering. It had been a hell of a shock, one he didn’t want to repeat. Not that a naked woman was a bad thing, and he’d definitely enjoyed the show. But as far as he was concerned, employees were off-limits. Besides, he preferred to choose who would be in his bed, rather than have the matter taken out of his hands.

  Before deciding to convert the rooms into his living space, they’d been two separate rentals with a connecting door. Ben had removed twin beds from one room and added a sitting area, a television and stereo unit, a very functional desk and computer system, and a tiny kitchenette where the bathroom used to be. The kitchenette housed a microwave and small fridge for the sake of convenience, which was all he needed since he generally took his meals in the motel kitchen. He’d also had a round table and chairs moved in.