Beauty and the Boss (Modern Fairytales 1)

Funny. That didn’t sound as appealing as it had a week ago.

“But still.” He sat back down, his knee brushing against hers. He clenched his jaw. All night long, those accidental touches had been killing him, and she suffered, too. He saw the tension in her growing with each soft touch. He felt it, too. “It’s a respect thing. Gentlemen shouldn’t curse in front of ladies.”

She snorted. “Lucky for you I’m not a lady. I’m just me.”

“Ah, but I disagree.” He turned Maggie’s way, and those gray eyes of hers were glowing with so much life. And, damn it, he wanted to feel that way, too. To remember what it felt like when he’d been…well, himself. “You’re more of a lady, and more deserving of respect, than anyone else I’ve ever met. You’re amazing Maggie, and don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.”

She swallowed hard and shifted closer to him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He glanced away, before he did the unthinkable and touched her cheek, or gave up resisting, broke the rules, and kissed her. The worst part was he could see the matching desire burning in her eyes, but she refused to give in. “And I’m sorry for my outburst.”

All his life, he’d been taught to hide his emotions. To never show happiness, fear, or even excitement. For a while, he’d balked against those constraints. He’d been alive. But then his father had died, and all that had changed. Around Maggie, the balance shifted again. Tiny pieces of the real him came out to play.

And it was good to get a portion of himself back.

“It makes me happy, seeing you so…” She set a soft hand on his arm. “Free.”

He couldn’t see it, since he’d refocused on the ice, but he could feel it deep down to his soul. It was as if when she touched him, she somehow made him brighter—which was ridiculous. “I’m not free.”

“And you never will be, with your mother on your back.”

He lifted a shoulder, watching the Zamboni smooth the ice. “It’s fine. She’s just got a set of goals in mind for me, and when I don’t follow through with her plans, she gets upset.”

That, and she hates me—for good reason. But he wouldn’t say that out loud. It would only sound like a pity party, and he didn’t do those.

“I get that,” she said softly. She sipped her beer, also watching the machine as it smoothed away the blemishes in the ice. Too bad they didn’t make those for your life. Benjamin could think of a few incidents he’d like to smooth over, too. Maggie went on. “My ex was like that. Overbearing. Controlling. Irrational.”

He glared down at his beer. “I hope you kicked him to the curb quick.”

“Not quick enough.” She side-eyed him. “Not before I needed a court order against him to make him to leave me alone.”

He growled deep in his throat, not even meaning to. The fact that she’d been scared enough—hurt enough—to need an injunction infuriated him. “What’s his name? I’ll kill him.”

“No need.” She smiled, but it was a sad one. “He did that himself, after writing me a note that told me it was all my fault.”

He swallowed. That kind of history explained so much about her reluctance to let him in. To trust him. Hell, he didn’t blame her. Not after what she’d been through. And the worst part was, Maggie was the kindest person he’d ever met. She didn’t deserve that. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said.

“Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t.” She lifted the beer to her lips. “Either way, it only proves how bad I am at relationships. It’s why I stopped trying. He wasn’t the first guy to show me that love isn’t worth the fight, but I swore he’d be the last.”

Which was why she refused to let him kiss her. She was scared they’d come to a messy end. And even with all of that, she had gone through a hell of a lot of effort to give him the best date he’d ever had. She’d shown him kindness he could never, and had never, shown another person. It was humbling, and embarrassing, and it made him like her even more.

He’d needed her to reminded him what it was like to open yourself up and let another person in. And, against all reason, he wanted that person to be her. He wanted all of her. Even if he didn’t deserve her.

“Christ.” He shook his head and glared down at his beer. “I’m sorry.”

She froze, her beer still at her lips. Lowering it, she swiped her hand across her mouth. “What for?”

“For not putting in even a fraction of the effort that you’ve obviously put into this date.” He reached out and caught her hand, and for once she didn’t pull away. “I’ll do better next time. I swear it.”

She swallowed hard. “It’s fine. I mean, it’s not like we’re actually dating.”

He’d become so good at hiding his desires and emotions that he’d forgotten how to voice them out loud. But with Maggie, he wanted to, and he wanted to stop pretending that she was just a way for him to keep his position. “So you keep saying.”

She sipped her beer, not meeting his eyes. “Well, that’s because it’s true.”

He had the distinct impression she said that out loud for her benefit instead of his. He also suspected that she didn’t believe it any more than he did, because it felt fucking real. Right here, right now, it did. “It doesn’t matter anymore if this is real, or if it isn’t. I think you’re fooling yourself, and me. Or maybe I am.”

Her breath whooshed out. “I’m not sure what you’re saying.”