This was what Bennett Wilder did to her. What he’d always been able to do to her.
Barely three minutes in his company and she was a wreck.
Jeez, God, did he have to be so damned handsome? Eden silently lamented. Was it too much to ask that he develop some sort of deformity or at the very least a serious skin problem since the last time she’d seen him? She let go a stuttering breath.
Evidently so, because he looked better than ever.
His dark, wavy hair was shorter than he’d worn it previously, and rather than keeping traditional sideburns, he’d trimmed his into the trendy edgy look she’d seen favored by hip urban professionals. If possible, they made him look even sexier. More dangerous. Hell, Eden thought with a miserable chuckle, he could have trimmed them into a fleur-de-lis pattern and he still would have looked like a badass.
Because that, in essence, was Bennett Wilder.
Eden sighed. And therein lay the attraction. Or at least some of it. Frankly, for her, there’d always been more to Bennett than his sex appeal. He was smart and interesting and talented and vulnerable. He had fix me written all over him and she’d tried to do just that three years ago and had gotten her heart filleted for her trouble.
Now that was not a mistake she’d be making again, Eden thought, glad that—other than that one little please-get-out-of-the-car-and-kiss-me moment when she’d been mesmerized by his mouth once again—she’d mostly kept her wits about her.
She waited for him to pull out into traffic, then dropped her head against the steering wheel and moaned with a combined cocktail of mortification, misery and self-disgust.
This was not good.
At least she hadn’t cried or ranted like a mad-woman, like the proverbial scorned lover. She’d kept her cool, kept it relatively professional—she hadn’t been able to resist asking about Grady or telling him that the rocker was beautiful. But ultimately she’d kept her head, which was nice considering it felt as if it had momentarily left her shoulders the instant she’d looked into those dark, brooding eyes. Eden knew he’d expected her to go off on him like a Roman candle, and there was something quite gratifying about the fact that she’d managed to surprise him.
Furthermore, the minute she’d found out that he was moving back here permanently, she really should have given him a heads-up on Artemis525. She’d started to but then had ultimately chickened out. How did one begin that conversation, anyway?
By the way, Bennett, after you broke my heart, me and some of your other exes started a Web site designed with the express purpose of maligning your character. One woman in particular seems to really hate you and wish you harm. Frankly she gives me the creeps, so you might want to watch your back. (Insert uneasy laugh.) Welcome home.
Ha. She didn’t think so.
Kate had volunteered to be the bearer of that news, not her. And as luck would have it, Kate was on duty and Bennett was on his way out to the retirement home. Talk about karma. Eden picked up her cell and dialed her friend, hoping that she’d be sitting at the nurses’ desk.
“Golden Gate, your home away from heaven,” Kate’s weary voice came across the line.
“Thank God,” Eden replied, relieved.
“Eden? What’s wrong?”
“You’re never going to believe who I just stopped.”
“Bennett?”
Eden gaped and felt her eyes widen. “How did you know?”
“Because Grady has been going around all day telling everyone that he’s moving out, that Bennett’s moving back and that Eva is a disciple of Satan.” She blew out a tired breath. “And not necessarily in that order. I had planned to call you, but as you can imagine, things have been crazy here. Grady’s friends threw him an impromptu going-home party, and somehow or other, several bottles of Southern Comfort were smuggled in. Drunk senior citizens, walkers and electric wheelchairs don’t mix, Eden,” she said darkly. “Believe me, it’s bad. Bad, bad, bad.”
Eden chuckled, imagining. “I’m sorry.”
“Let me guess. You’re calling me to give me the four-one-one on Bennett so that I can relay the four-one-one to him on Artemis525?”
Eden surveyed traffic, then aimed her car back onto the road. “You know me too well.”
“Coward,” Kate teased, rightly pegging her.
Yes, she was. And an ultimate fool, because seeing him again had energized her in a way that she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. One look into those old-soul eyes had knocked her so far into the hot zone again that she hadn’t been able to think straight, much less think cattily. She’d just been proud of herself for not completely losing it.
“We’ll need to call a meeting,” Eden told her, trying with difficulty to focus. And the first order of business would be what to do about the Web site. She didn’t want to shut it down, of course—and didn’t intend to—but keeping it up and running under BennettWilderSucks.com with him moving back to town felt…off to her. Had he softened her that much already? Eden wondered, analyzing her motives. Or, all things considered, was it the prudent move?
“How are we going to do that without tipping off the crazy chick?”
Good question, Eden thought. “I don’t know. Maybe call everyone?”
“That’s assuming this isn’t someone we see every day.”
Right again, but she simply couldn’t imagine that being the case. Then again, stranger things had happened. Many a murdering freak had appeared normal, right? “I guess that’s a chance we’ll just have to take. I’d still rather call than post it.”
“You aren’t afraid he’ll see it, are you?”
“No,” Eden told her with more force than was actually required. “I hope that he does.” And she did. He’d hurt her—hurt them all. If seeing their embittered musings and uncharitable thoughts made him a bit uncomfortable, then so be it. It was nothing less than he deserved. This would be a sentiment which would undoubtedly require many reminders, Eden thought grimly. She’d just seen him and already she could feel her grudge withering away. God help her if he apologized. Instead of game on it would be game over, and she knew it.
Kate chuckled with gleeful relish. “Oh, to be a fly on the wall.”
She wouldn’t mind finding a little wall for that one as well, Eden thought, her lips curling at the idea.
“You take care of getting everyone together and I’ll take care of bringing Bennett up to speed,” Kate said, practical as ever.
“Eight o’clock tonight at my house sound okay to you?”
“Sure.”
“Come early,” Eden told her. “And bring booze. Lots of booze.”
Knowing what was to come—the draining buzz and hoopla surrounding the return of Bennett Wilder—she was going to need some sort of alcoholic assistance.
5
“IT’ S ABOUT DAMNED TIME,” Grady snapped predictably as Bennett rolled to a stop beneath the portico. “I could have died waiting on you to get here.”
“And yet you’re well enough to complain,” Bennett replied with a droll sigh.
Eva Kilgore, every steely gray hair pinned into submission, stood with stoic resolve next to Grady and seemed particularly relieved that Bennett had finally made an appearance. He nodded a greeting at her. “Eva.”
“Bennett,” she returned with cordial chill. “He’s ready.”
And so am I hung unspoken in the