“Good.” The waiter spotted a diner hailing him from down the counter. “I’d better get back to it. Tell her I said hi, will you?”
“Sure.”
May tried to be subtle as she glanced at Ben’s left hand. It was just as bare as it had been before. If he had a wife, he was hiding her well. If he had a girlfriend …
Sandy could be anybody. His sister. The dog from Annie.
And even if she was his girlfriend, Ben was allowed to have a girlfriend. They hadn’t made any kind of declarations to each other, except the one where he’d told her he didn’t want to get in her pants.
Somehow, she’d nearly managed to erase that one from her memory.
“Sandy’s my ex-wife,” he said.
So much for subtlety.
“Okay.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“No problem.”
/> She picked at the edge of the countertop, unsure what came next.
“Let’s go,” he said abruptly, and stood.
She nodded. Ben put some money on top of the check and gathered all her packages. She followed him. They hurried out the door, into the twilight.
“I can carry those,” she offered.
“It’s fine.”
He walked so fast, she had trouble keeping up, and she didn’t especially want to.
Because of course it was a problem, even if it shouldn’t have been. His refusal to talk about Sandy—whoever she was, whatever had happened—reminded May that she didn’t know him. His past could contain anything. Violence. Cruelty.
He could be anyone at all.
Her feet slowed, and she drifted to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk.
Ben reached the corner and turned, then kept turning when he didn’t find her right behind him. He spotted her half a block back and barked, “What is it?”
May shook her head. She wouldn’t shout down the street. She couldn’t speak. Her sinuses were full, eyes stinging, and she didn’t want to cry.
She hated this—hated drama and anger, disapproval, any kind of tension. Whatever Dan’s faults, he was thoroughly good-natured, and she’d always known what to expect with him.
Ben stalked back along the sidewalk, packages swinging, shoulders hunched. “Aren’t you coming?”
“I’m … not sure.”
“What’s the problem?”
What could she say—I don’t like you like this? I just realized I don’t know a single thing of importance about you, and I’m starting to scare myself?
“I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
Ben lowered his head, his eyes fixed on the sidewalk. He plowed one hand through his hair and exhaled, long and slow. “Because I’m being a jerk.”
At least he was self-aware.