Chapter fifteen. Melanie felt infinitely better about the legal aspects of purchasing the bookstore after she'd gone over them with Ben.

MELANIE FELT INFINITELY better about the legal aspects of purchasing the bookstore after she'd gone over them with Ben.

Asking for his help had been a smart move. He seemed to be well versed in such things, and Melanie was happy to find out that she hadn't been that far off in her interpretations. According to Ben, everything looked to be in order, but he gave her the business card of his own attorney and suggested she double-check with him, just to be safe.

They'd spent almost three hours in a comfortable booth at a little Italian restaurant called Rizzi's, which was nestled just outside of the city proper. The food had been superb, especially the appetizer of greens and beans, which she'd suggested they share. Ben had warned against it, claiming that once she tasted them, she wouldn't want to give him even the smallest of nibbles. He was right.

She'd had to make a conscious effort to keep from bringing the bowl to her lips and actually drinking the buttery garlic broth that was left when she'd eaten the last leafy bite.

They'd talked almost exclusively about business, a little about the bookstore and a lot about Rucker and Steele. Melanie tried not to notice that Taylor was avoided as a topic of conversation, no matter how often she tried to bring up the woman's name. It was also rather obvious how quickly the subject changed when she'd mentioned the theme of the bookstore. He'd found a tangent somehow, and segued into an in-depth story about one of his clients.

In the two weeks she'd known him, Melanie had found Ben to be nothing but charming. Tonight, she'd found his behavior...odd.

That was the only word she could think of to describe it. Maybe she'd ask Taylor about it tomorrow.

For his part, Ben had seemed not to notice that Melanie had grown uncharacteristically quieter as the evening wore on. He'd been generally pleased at the way the evening had turned out. He'd patted himself on the back for sticking to general subject matter, avoiding his daughter like the plague. He'd known his shying away from the " feminist bookstore" topic was less than discreet, but she'd caught him off guard on that one and besides, he wasn't sure how he'd felt about it. Feminist bookstore? He didn't like the sound of that. The little voice in his brain giggled quietly.

Melanie was embarrassed now at the wave of relief that washed over her as they pulled into the driveway of Ben's picturesque home. Ben spoke as she reached for the door handle to let herself out.

" It's still fairly early. Care to join me for a nightcap? "

" Oh, " Melanie stumbled, flipping frantically through the Excuses File in her mind. " You know, I really have a lot of work to do if I want to get this bookstore in working order."

" But, tomorrow's Sunday, " he pointed out, his disappointment clearly written on his face.

She smiled, trying to make light of the situation. " Retail knows no weekends."

Realizing he wasn't going to change her mind, he relented. The last thing he wanted to do was push too hard. " All right, then. At least let me see you to the door like a proper gentleman."

Melanie was touched by the chivalrous gesture. " I'd like that." They began a leisurely stroll across the property. " Ben, thank you so much for looking over my papers. I really thought I'd be able to figure them out, but...God. I think lawyers must make up words as they go along, just to make the rest of us feel stupid."

Ben chuckled. " If you understood every word in a legal document, you wouldn't need a lawyer. Think of it as self-preservation on their part."

They reached the front door of the carriage house, Melanie bending her head to unlock it. Ben became suddenly uncomfortable.

" Melanie..."

" Mmm hmm? " When she looked up, he had trouble meeting her eyes. " What's the matter, Ben? What's wrong? "

He blew out a determined breath. " That's just it. Nothing's wrong." He fidgeted, searching for the right words.

Melanie felt the red flags popping up all over the place.

" I keep waiting for something to be out of whack, " he explained, " but it hasn't happened. I know there's quite a bit of difference in our ages, but..." He took hold of her hand. If only she knew how hard it was for him to open up this way. " I'm just really enjoying spending time with you."

There. He would leave it at that. If she didn't know what it was he was trying to convey, she must be thick.

Melanie stood blinking at him, not sure how to respond, trying to force a smile that didn't look forced. She must have succeeded because he smiled back and squeezed her hand.

" I'll let you get some rest." He needed to get out of there, fast. He always felt so vulnerable when he let somebody see what he was feeling. He wanted to run. " Thanks for dinner. I had a...magnificent evening." He kissed her softly on the cheek, absently rubbing his thumb over the spot. Then, he turned away, heading back to his house, leaving Melanie standing on the stoop, wondering how the hell she hadn't seen this coming.

She let herself into the house, leaning heavily against the door once she was inside.

" Shit."

She closed her eyes and shook her head, disgusted with herself for allowing things to go this far, for not politely shutting Ben down from the start. Isn't that what she should have done? What she'd wanted to do?

No, she admitted to herself. That's not what she had wanted. She had enjoyed his company very much. He was intelligent, as well as respectful. He talked to her like she was on his level, not like he was several steps above her and she should look up to him, wishing to be as large as he was someday, like so many of the men in Chicago. Ben was different. Ben was what her mother would refer to as " a good catch." Yes, he was nearly two decades older than she was, but so what? Such couplings were more and more common these days. She should be flattered and consider herself lucky to have somebody like Benjamin Rhodes interested in her.

Shouldn't she?

So why did she want to hide under the nearest piece of furniture and never come out?

Her mind reeled the entire time she undressed, pulling on flannel boxers and a long-sleeved T-shirt. It was spinning as she cleaned up the breakfast and lunch dishes she had left earlier, and it continued to spin while she scrubbed the bathroom until she could see her own reflection in the tub. She was just about ready to pull her own hair out when she noticed the book she'd left on the kitchen table.

That's it, she told herself. I'll just put all this crap away and lose myself in a good book for a while. Things will be much clearer later.

She made herself a cup of tea, carrying it to the overstuffed chair she had been drawn to that very first day she arrived. She curled up with the book and her tea, an afghan thrown over her feet, much as she had envisioned herself then. With a contented sigh, she opened to the first page of Curious Wine.