Seven Years of Bad Luck (8 page)

“See? You’re not well. You need to see a doctor. Come with me and stop fighting over it. It’s pointless. I don’t negotiate, but I believe you are aware of this.” Just then, for effect he winked at me and grinned, nearly turning me into a simpering idiot.

Oh boy! He’s really beautiful.

I couldn’t help but notice that Ben was not even remotely winded from carrying me. He was unruffled. I knew I was in deep trouble.

“What about my car? It’s in parking.”

“Give me your keys. I will have it delivered to your home.”

“I will do no such thing! I don’t even know you. I will concede to the point that I may need to see a doctor, but you are not going to have access to my car or knowledge of my home address!” Raising my voice at him was rather dumb because the effort it took made my head throb harder. I leaned in against his firm muscles. My head lolled against his pectorals—nothing to complain about. “My head,” I groaned.

“Come on.” I was in no condition to argue with his demand, so when a black Cadillac Escalade appeared before us curbside, I allowed him to usher me into his car, and he belted me in. He took the keys from the valet and got behind the wheel.

“My car.” My eyes were shut, but I could smell him beside me, and I could feel him looking at me. I could feel his arm resting against mine on the console between our seats. The contact between us was initiating a lightning storm of nerves deep in my stomach. It felt like butterflies on steroids.

“I’ll take care of it.”

“My sketches?” I began to worry at the thought of my beautiful sketches being scattered and lost in the large airport corridor.

“I have them.”

Man of many words.

“Do you take care of random strangers all the time?”

“No, just you.”

I had asked the question with intent to be sarcastic, but he seemed to answer with sincerity.

“Are you an artist? Did you do these?” I peeked through a cracked eyelid to see Ben shuffling through the many sketches while we waited at a red light.

“Hey, give me those, and no, I’m no artist, but those are mine. My friend is an artist, and this is his work.” I had both eyes open, and the sun was much too bright to keep them that way for long. I snapped my sensitive eyes shut.

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to intrude, but can I just say that these are beautiful? What will you do with them if you don’t mind my asking?” I cracked my eyes open again to attempt a fitting answer. He looked at me quizzically, and I couldn’t help but admire those beautiful blue-green eyes of his.

“I, uh, I will have them… permanently.” It was a highly vague response, and I expected him to push for a more specific answer, but he didn’t. He just nodded his head and focused back on the traffic around us.

“So, if you are not the artist, then who is?”

“His name is Fred.”

“Your boyfriend, I assume.”

“No. Not my boyfriend. Fred is a friend of mine. He lives back home in El Paso.” Even in profile, I could see Ben’s face grow serious, and his brows bunched together.

“I thought you said you lived here when we met in
Book Ends
.”

I felt the need to reassure him. “Well, yes. I only just moved to Dallas from El Paso. I had business to attend to in El Paso; that’s where I’ve come from today.” I put my fingers to my temples and began rubbing at the unforgiving pain there.

“I see.”

We arrived at the hospital a short while later. Ben sat beside me in the waiting area and did a good job of distracting me from the awful pounding headache I had.

“God, I hope this doesn’t take all night. You know you can leave. I appreciate your help and all, but really I’m fine, and I can call my friend to come get me.”

He turned his intense gaze on me. “I won’t leave you alone here.” The moment he spoke those words, I felt my face drop, and my heart clenched in my chest. I couldn’t help but remember that the last time I was in a hospital, someone else spoke those exact words to me but for far different reasons. I felt the threat of tears coming, and I did my best to battle them away. Ben noticed the shift in my expression.

“Hey, are you all right?” He leaned in close to me when he spoke and placed his warm hand on my knee. I could feel his breath against my skin again, and it had the same effect on me as it did earlier in the airport. It was warm and coaxing against my body. I felt the urge to wrap my arms around him, but ignored it.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” My voice sounded unconvincing.

“You don’t look okay.” I was getting uncomfortable and worried that if he kept pushing, I would start crying, adding to my humiliation.

“Really, I’m fine. Why are you even here? I don’t need a sitter.” My words came out more clipped than I had intended, and I felt a little guilt for it the moment I said it.

“Well, I beg to differ. As far as I can tell, you are perhaps the clumsiest person I have ever seen. If I leave you to your own devices, you’re likely to injure yourself further. Who knows, you could get run over by a city bus or something while juggling your lipstick around like you did that book.” With the mention of the book, my indignation began brewing again. I was glad to feel any other emotion beside sadness.

“I am
not
clumsy. I have a lot going on lately, and I’m… distracted. Besides, I don’t wear lipstick. I wear tinted gloss, thank you very much, you Book Thief!” He clutched his hand to his stomach, tossed his head back, and laughed uproariously. I was tempted to join in the laughing with him, but fought against the urge to enjoy the moment. His laugh was infectious and quite sexy. I felt a stirring between my thighs.

Kat, seriously? You’re a joke! This man has just insulted you, and you can’t seem to get a hold of your sexually deprived self?

“Do I amuse you? Am I some sort of joke to you? A comedian?”

He slowly gathered himself and came down from the moment. “No, I don’t think you’re a joke, though you are entertaining.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Go to hell, Ben.” I said flatly.

“They won’t have me,” he mumbled.

“What did you say?” I swiftly jolted from my relaxed position in my seat to look him in the face.

“Nothing,” he mumbled again and ran his large hands through his ridiculously beautiful chocolate brown, wavy locks.

Oh, back to being a man of many words.

When I relaxed my arm on the arm rest between the two of us, I noticed Ben glance down at the hospital bracelet on my wrist. He scrunched his brows together and looked confused.

“You know you shouldn’t do that to your face. You’ll get wrinkles prematurely.” He looked up at me and relaxed his face into a charming smile; his eyes were sparkling at me with something unspoken in them.

“Why, Miss Kathleen Cooper, are you worried about my appearance?”

My eyes went wide at the sound of my full name rolling off his tongue. “How do you know my name? I never gave you my full name.” His eyes glanced downward to the bracelet on my wrist which held enough information for any proper thief to steal a person’s identity.

“Oh, I see. I should have caught that. Are you planning on murdering me or something? Because only stalkers or murders pay attention to things like that.” I lifted my wrist with the bracelet and waved it at him. “Oh, and why were you at the airport?” He beamed another panty- dropping smile in my direction, one that made the butterflies in my stomach flutter at Mach speed.

“No, Kathleen Cooper, I am none of those things. I assure you I am a law-abiding citizen, and I was at the airport for the same reasons you were. You know, to fly to and from a predetermined destination. I had just returned from a business trip when I saw you trip and fall.”

Smartass!
“So what do you do?”

He paused for a moment and returned his amused look to meet mine. “I’m a lawyer.” The minute that bit of information passed over his lips I let out a dull chuckle. He looked at me with confusion riddled across his features. “Does my occupation amuse you?”

“No not at all. I just find it… fitting that you’re a lawyer. I could have guessed that one.” He playfully narrowed his eyes on me, and then he, too, laughed.

Ben never inquired about my occupation, so I didn’t reveal any details. He grinned at me and patted the bracelet on my wrist. We didn’t speak much more while I waited to be seen. After seeing the doctor and undergoing a few tests to make sure that I had no serious head injury, I was released from the hospital with the diagnosis of a monster headache.

“Well, Ben, thank you kindly for your help, but I can take it from here.”

He looked down at me while we stood in front of each other at the hospital entrance. I had my hand outstretched to shake his, but he made no attempt to shake my hand.

Well, Kat, don’t you feel like a blooming idiot in spring.

“I will take you to your home. You shouldn’t be alone.”

I shook my head subtly to avoid more pain. “I am quite capable of getting myself back to my apartment Ben. I will be sure to avoid the city buses.” I shot him a half-grin at which he chuckled in response.

“Fair enough. Would you like me to return you to your car?” I smiled at him while I privately reveled in my small victory over Mr. Pretentious Sex-on-Legs.

“Yes, please. Thanks.” Once we arrived back at the airport parking lot, I said adieu to Ben after expressing my thanks to him once again. He scribbled down his phone number on a piece of paper and gave it to me with instructions to call him if I needed anything. I didn’t give him my phone number, nor did he ask for it.

Wednesday, May 15, 2013. Day 218 since Aidan. I slept like the dead after returning from El Paso. I was both physically and emotionally exhausted, and sleep came easily for once. Cheyenne was still in bed shortly after 8 am when I heard a knock on our apartment door. I abandoned my coffee on the kitchen counter and crept to the door.

I opened the door to a delivery man who held out a clipboard and pen to me.

“Kathleen Cooper?”

“Yes, that’s me. What’s this?” I quickly signed for the delivery, which was a rectangular package about the size of a shoe box.

“Ma’am, do I look like a psychic?” The delivery man drawled in a southern accent.

I glanced up at the irritating oaf and shook my head. The old me drew back her metaphorical privacy curtain and let loose on the jerk. I cocked my head to the side and quirked up one eyebrow.

“No I don’t suppose you are psychic, pal. Just talking out loud.” With that, I slammed the door on the delivery man.

Who the hell would be sending me a package? No one has this address yet.

I opened the package and removed the tissue paper to discover what the box encased.

The book.

I was a bit speechless when I removed the cookbook Ben and I verbally tussled over. There was a handwritten note in the bottom of the box as well.

‘Kathleen, for your someone special. –Ben, the Book Thief.’

I couldn’t believe that Ben the Book Thief and supremely arrogant lawyer would be so… nice.

He probably just took pity on your pathetic self.
There was no return address or information about the sender on the package. Just a simple label addressed to me and the note from Ben inside. I did, however, have his name and number scribbled on a piece of paper. I entertained the idea of calling him for a moment before I decided against it. I was relieved to have gotten the book in the end for Cheyenne’s birthday, but had no intentions of seeing or talking to Ben ever again. I would need to stay as far away from him as I could. The last thing I needed was another Aidan in my life. Ben had trouble written all over him, and I knew to stay as far away from trouble as possible, at least for the time being.

I quickly repackaged the gift and hid it beneath my bed. Cheyenne’s twenty-eighth birthday was in four days. I made a note to myself to start planning what we would do for her day. I chose not to tell Cheyenne anything about my encounter with the handsome book thief. She would only ask questions that would surely lead to spoiling her birthday surprise.

We spent the majority of our Wednesday hanging out and talking, while both of us sat in front of our own laptops in the living room. Cheyenne was busy looking for employment and I was aimlessly browsing the internet for birthday celebration ideas. I didn’t even get to research the three firms I had applied to.

Thursday and Friday came and went, and I didn’t accomplish much at all. I had Ben on my mind. I was undeniably attracted to the man, but couldn’t understand how he could be so smug yet still kind enough to attend to me at the hospital and send me the book I wanted for Cheyenne. I had to remind myself that he was a lawyer, which in my opinion, made him as sneaky as a snake.