Page 28 of Resisting the Fall

He shook his head. “Not happening.”

“Why?” I shot back. “Are you trying to make us both miserable?”

“And if I am?”

“Well, you’re doing a great job.”

His gaze did a quick, unimpressed once-over of me. “I’ve learned from the best.”

My mouth parted. “Oh, you don’t have even the slightest idea of how completely miserable I can make you.”

Ben laughed, but it was one of those ironic kinds, void of any humor. “Is that a threat?”

I barely resisted my tit-for-tat response. What was I doing? This butting-heads strategy never got us anywhere. “It doesn’t have to be.” I softened even more. “Ben, there’s no point dragging this out.”

“Maybe you’re wrong.”

The intensity in Ben’s brown eyes made me still, and I waited for his next words with a troublesome amount of focus.

He leaned in closer, making my skin prickle in anticipation. “Maven, this is likely our last chance”—his gaze moved to my lips, making my breath slow, before his eyes locked with mine again—“to make each other miserable.”

I flicked the back of my hand into his stomach, but he’d flexed his abs, clearly having expected it.

He laughed and pushed off the wall, then took a backward step, smiling like this conversation was over and he was the victor.

If only he knew what he was about to unleash.

“This has been fun, but I’d better get back inside.” He paused, pointing at me with a lazy sideways hand, his thumb extended. “But while you’re in town, we should probably get one of those shared experiences over with. Text me?”

“You’re going to regret this, Ben,” I called after him.

He paused and shot me a cocky smile. “I don’t think I will.”

I didn’t even wait a full breath cycle after he disappeared around the corner to follow him. My philosophy had always been that there was no time like the present for retribution.

Through the bakery window, I watched Ben settle back into his chair before I entered again. He glanced over his shoulder, but I ignored him and stepped to the counter. First things first. I wasn’t leaving here empty-handed.

New York had some decent bakeries, but none compared to Keller’s, so I had to take advantage. And my family wouldn’t complain if I shared. “Can I get a dozen maple cinnamon sticky buns?”

“Of course.” While the young woman went to work filling the box of sticky buns, I again tried to place how I knew her. Suddenly, an image surfaced of a little girl, several years younger than I was, with her same copper-red hair but in two braids, proudly displaying a big fat bullfrog at the Walkers’ creek.

“You’re Sadie Stevenson?”

The woman nodded, showing off her contagious smile. “You taught me to catch frogs.”

I glanced at Ben, then leaned over the counter toward her. “If you’re in need of some practice, let me know.”

Sadie’s eyes brightened, and she set the box of buns on the counter with a conspiratorial grin. “Are you going to put them in his boots again?”

I held my credit card over the reader, barely restraining my laughter. “A girl has to do what she can to get a boy’s attention.” Even if the attention I now wanted from Ben differed significantly from the kind I’d wanted when we were younger.

Which reminded me.

I tucked my card back into my phone case and patted the top of the box. “I’ll be right back for these.”

Sadie nodded, her gaze following me as I approached Ben.

Instead of pulling up a vacant chair to their table like I’d originally planned, I stepped behind Ben and wrapped my arms around his neck, leaning down next to his face like I’d done a million times.