inside her vibrate.
Eden swallowed, felt her blood pressure rocket toward stroke level, her mouth parch, her empty belly roll. Oh, dear God.
Bennett Wilder was back. Her lips slid haltingly into a bitter smile.
Evidently Hell had frozen over.
4
PULLED OVER. FABULOUS. Just freakin’ fabulous. Less than five minutes back in town and he was already in trouble with the law.
Swearing under his breath, Bennett pushed a difficult smile into place and turned as the sound of crunching gravel grew ever closer. “Good afternoon, Offi—”
The rest of the sentence died in his mouth as recognition broadsided him. If he hadn’t been sitting down, he would have staggered under the weight of emotion that suddenly slammed into him.
Though her cap hid her hair—her most remarkable feature—there was no mistaking those wide green eyes, that pert nose and lush mouth. Nor the faint half-moon scar on her chin, a product of an early encounter with the edge of a coffee table as a toddler, if he remembered correctly.
And he knew he did, because everything about Eden Rutherford was memorable.
And just to make absolutely certain he recognized her, a firestorm of heat blazed behind his zipper, the same blistering, thought-singeing wave that had always let him know he’d gotten too damned close to her. Need ripped through him so fast it tore the breath from his lungs, making him momentarily unable to speak. So much for keeping a low profile and keeping a distance, Bennett thought, feeling himself inexplicably lean toward her.
Eden.
“Hi,” he said for lack of anything better.
“Bennett,” she replied coolly, despite being obviously jolted at seeing him again. Her pulse fluttered wildly at the base of her delicate throat, and he discerned the slightest tremble in her smoky voice. God, how he’d missed her. “This is a fifty-five-mile-an-hour zone. You were traveling ten miles per hour over the limit.”
“I know,” Bennett admitted, considering her with equal parts joy and trepidation. Unable to help himself, he offered a smile. “Sorry about that.”
Rather than return his grin—much less acknowledge that they’d been infinitely more than mere passing acquaintances—she looked away and consulted her ticket pad. “Is there any particular reason you’re in such a rush?”
Was this an official question or was she fishing for information? Bennett wondered, foolishly hoping for the latter. Given the tone of her voice, there was really no way to tell. Odd, that, when he used to be able to read her so well. “Actually, I’m heading out to Golden Gate to pick up Grady.”
A concerned frown emerged between her brows, and the first hint of the real Eden appeared behind her official cop demeanor. “Oh? Is something wrong?”
“Physically? No,” he quickly assured her, then he checked his watch and winced. “At the moment, he’s probably packed up, sitting curbside on his luggage and pissed that I’m not there yet.”
“Packed up? Where’s he going?”
“Home,” Bennett told her. “He’s, er…” He paused, felt an uncomfortable smile tug at the corner of his mouth. “Let’s just say he’s no longer a welcome resident at the retirement home.”
Eden gasped, reluctantly intrigued, he could tell. “Eva kicked him out? I knew she’d threatened to in the past, but I can’t believe she actually went through with it.”
Bennett nodded grimly. “Believe it.”
“Why?”
“Oh, a combination of things,” Bennett said lightly, hoping to thaw her a little with humor. It had always worked in the past, after all, he thought, his gaze inexplicably drifting over the smooth line of her cheek. “Inciting revolts over the menu, gambling, not respecting the curfew.” He sighed, tapped his fingers against the steering wheel and stifled a grin. “But ultimately it was the womanizing that Eva couldn’t tolerate. She said it was unseemly.”
Eden didn’t smile, but her eyes twinkled. “I’d heard about that.”
From Kate, Bennett thought, remembering that Eden’s best friend was a nurse on staff at the retirement home. On the rare occasions their paths crossed, she never failed to send him a death-ray glare.
Eden frowned thoughtfully. “I didn’t think Grady was able to live alone anymore.”
“He’s not,” Bennett confirmed. His gaze tangled with hers and he shot her a distinctly uncomfortable smile. “I’ll be living with him.”
Blind panic—which made him feel like the biggest dick in the world—surfaced in that too-green gaze before she managed to blink it away. “O-oh?” she asked, clearing her throat. “What about your work? I’d heard you were doing quite well in Savannah.”
“I can work from here as easily as I can in Savannah,” Bennett said, pleased that she’d been keeping up with him. The only fly in the ointment of his recent success was that he hadn’t been able to share it with her. When it came to his woodworking, Eden had always been his biggest fan. “I’m keeping the store open there but will do the physical end of the job here.”
“From your grandfather’s?”
“Yeah,” Bennett confirmed. “I’m renovating the house and barn. The barn will be my shop.”
Eden waited for a line of cars to pass before speaking again. The blast of hot air tugged at a loose strand of hair hovering distractingly around her mouth. “Aunt Devi bought one of your rockers the last time she was in Savannah.”
He actually remembered Eden’s eccentric aunt coming in. Devi Darlaston, he thought. God, what a character. While Eden’s mom had always been cold and calculating, Devi had been a sweetheart, a grounding support for Eden. For whatever reason, she’d always reminded him of his grandfather. She’d chosen one of his favorite pieces, too—a rocker he’d crafted from oak, its back an intricate design of corkscrew willow branches.
“I hope she liked it,” Bennett said, hating himself for fishing for the compliment.
“She did.” Eden considered him for a moment, seemed to thaw just a bit. “It’s beautiful work, Bennett.”
The remark made a warm dart land in his chest and expand. He’d received countless praise for his work, and yet, for whatever reason, her opinion counted more than any other. Then again, it always had. “Thanks,” Bennett murmured, swallowing.
Eden released a small breath, inadvertently forcing his gaze back to her ripe mouth. Just looking at it brought back snapshots of kissing her, stuck on fast-forward.
The first time, at her locker, and she’d tasted like butterscotch candy.
At her back door—they’d broken apart guiltily when her mother had turned the porch light on.
Fire Lake, their first time, and he’d softly pressed his lips to hers—an apology for that brief flash of pain he’d seen in her gorgeous eyes as he’d carefully slid into her.
Heaven, Bennett thought now. The only time he’d ever felt right.
With his eyes Bennett traced the woefully familiar lines of her face—that hot mouth—and felt both his heart and his loins catch fire. Like a match to dry tinder, his entire body went up in flames, scorching him from the inside out. His fingers involuntarily tightened on the steering wheel, and he swore inwardly, praying for an instant downpour to put out the blaze. He watched Eden’s suddenly heavy gaze drop to his mouth and felt himself harden to the point of pain.
Motherfu—
He couldn’t do this, Bennett thought, setting his teeth against the tide of longing rising up inside him. Hadn’t he promised himself that he wouldn’t do this? He didn’t deserve