How to Keep a Secret

Her mouth moved but no words came out. Ben had been married to the same woman for forty years. Lucille had died five years earlier, and now he lived alone in one of the smaller houses on Main Street. She knew there were plenty of women on the island who were interested in him. She’d never seen him interested in any of them. Nancy sus

pected he’d buried his pain under work, as she had.

Never in a million years had she suspected his feelings might go beyond friendship.

He was waiting for her to say something, and she had no idea what to say. She clutched the tomato plant like a lifeline.

“I’m not exactly relationship material.”

“You only think that because he crushed your confidence.” Ben picked up the spade and rammed it into the ground so hard Nancy expected the earth to shake.

“It isn’t about confidence. I’m too old and cynical to even think about love, Ben.”

“So let’s not fall in love.” He winked at her. “We can have sex until our bones crack.”

Suddenly she was laughing uproariously. She couldn’t remember when she’d last laughed so hard.

“Oh, Ben—”

“I’m not joking, Nancy.”

“Well you should be.” She felt flustered. Flustered and flattered. Sex? It was ridiculous to even think about it. But his eyes were so blue. And the way he was looking at her made her feel like dragging him inside the house and locking the door. “Imagine what people would say.”

“I don’t give a damn what anyone says. And you shouldn’t care either. This is your life, Nancy, not theirs. You should be living it.”

She felt as if she was teetering on the edge of something desperately exciting. “I value our friendship. I wouldn’t ever want to lose that.”

“Who said anything about losing it? Not all relationships go wrong, Nancy. Not all men are like Tom.”

Somehow he knew, and she was surprised to discover she wasn’t embarrassed. If anything she was relieved they had no secrets. Secrets, she’d discovered, were clutter. They filled a space inside you and gathered dust. They stopped you connecting fully with people.

She should say something. But what? Her feelings were unfamiliar and she wasn’t sure she could put a name to them.

Ben waited a moment and then turned away. “It’s getting dark. We should finish up here.”

She felt a flash of panic.

He thought she was rejecting him.

“Ben! Would you—” She stopped. How should she put this? “Would you like a drink? The house is empty.” Obviously. He already knew that. Oh, Nancy, you’re a fool. A fool!

“Are you really offering me a drink?”

“No.”

He smiled and cupped her face in his hands. “You can say what you mean, Nancy. You don’t have to choose your words with me, second-guess what I’m thinking or keep secrets.”

Secrets. Oh, how she hated secrets.

“Are we being hasty, Ben? Maybe we should—”

He kissed her.

She’d thought that part of her life was over and yet here she was being kissed in a way she wasn’t sure she’d ever been kissed before. His hands held her face while his mouth slowly seduced hers and it felt incredible. It felt right.

A thick, syrupy pleasure heated low in her pelvis and spread through her limbs.

Ben Winter. Kissing her. She felt strangely vulnerable and yet at the same time she knew Ben would never hurt her.