And she really liked that part.
Before she could lose her nerve, she grabbed a pair of diet sodas from her fridge and slipped outside through the back door. There wasn’t any need to give the neighbors something to gossip about.
His house mirrored hers because of the duplex setup and the light was on in his kitchen. She climbed the three stairs to his back door. He sat at his table. A large sketchpad took up most of the table and a sweating beer sat at his elbow. Colored pencils and drafting markers littered the top of the surface. His long fingers moved quickly over the page before slowing.
She shook her head. Way to be a Peeping Tom. She knocked on the glass. He looked up with a smile. At least that was something. She smiled back and lifted her sodas. He opened the door.
Battered jeans with pen and marker drawings over every inch hugged his incredibly solid frame. He didn’t have on a shirt and the scrolling lettering of the tattoo along his ribs only emphasized his abdominal muscles.
“Hey,” he said quietly.
“Hi.”
“C’mon in, don’t just stand there sawing off that pretty bottom lip.”
Darcy stopped chewing on her lip. “I wasn’t sure if it was okay to come over.”
“Of course it is, why wouldn’t it be?”
She set the bottles on the counter next to the fridge. “I don’t know. The conversation in the hallway wasn’t…”
“I was just hoping to make you smile. I should have thought about how it would look.”
“I was just nervous about the Blackstones.” Darcy crossed her arms, tucking her hands away before she trailed her fingers over his chest and down to the artistic lettering. Faith, hope and love—such a deep part of this man. Not even two full days in his company and she knew they were his trinity.
Everything about Ben was there for the world to see. No excuses.
“I’m sorry I had to leave before I could talk to you.”
She rubbed her upper arms. His living room had been transformed into Christmas central. A huge tree sat beside the fireplace, this one a downplayed version of her store tree. But instead of the typical ball ornaments it was filled with handmade and individual pieces that obviously had been handed down through the years. “It’s okay. You had to work too.”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I had to rearrange a few clients and Cesar was getting bitchy.”
She frowned, meeting his gaze. “Was he okay with everything? I didn’t really think about how much of an inconvenience it was for you.” Darcy couldn’t stop herself now. She stepped into him and slid her arms around his waist. “I’m sorry.”
He rubbed his rough chin against her hair and leaned down until his nose slid behind the curtain of her hair. “Totally worth his tantrum.”
“I’m glad.” She rubbed her cheek along his until their lips lined up. He sighed into her mouth. The kiss was soft and easy. A hint of hoppy beer transferred to her tongue as they sank into the kiss. Already, he felt familiar and safe. Something she’d never thought to look for.
She drew her hands up the smooth skin of his back. The fluid bunch of muscles and Ben’s raw energy emptied all the worries that had settled on her shoulders. She wanted to touch and to taste, to explore him like he’d done with her last night.
He drew her t-shirt over her head, dropping it onto the counter as he led her through the kitchen to the living room. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hooked her knees around his waist.
He boosted her up effortlessly. “You like to look down at me.”
She laughed. “Not many people can lift me up like a toddler.”
He squeezed her butt. “You definitely don’t feel like a toddler.”
She hugged her knees into his sides with a grin. “To the couch, muscle man.”
He arched a brow at her. “You wouldn’t be steering me like a horse, would you?”
“I’ve never been on a horse.”
“Could have fooled me,” he said, sitting down in the middle of his leather couch. “I was going to bring you upstairs, but if it’s the couch you want…”
She maneuvered until one knee flanked each side of his thighs. “I want to make out on the couch.”