Read The Accidental Boyfriend Online

Authors: Maggie Dallen

The Accidental Boyfriend (2 page)

Her chair made a loud creaking noise as she pushed it back and hopped out of her seat. She grabbed a box that was half packed and started heading toward the door. “Donna, I should go. I’ve got to see Benjamin but, uh, I’ll get back to you about the teaching job, okay?”

She was out the door before Donna had a chance to respond.

* * * *

Holly found Benjamin quickly. Of course she did. That was the beauty of Benjamin—he was predictable.

She met him in his driveway seconds after he pulled in. “Hey, what are you doing here?” he asked, unloading his briefcase from the passenger side of his car. “I thought I was picking you up tonight so we could celebrate the last day of school.”

She should tell him about the offer for a permanent job but she couldn’t seem to get the words out of her mouth. Instead, she tucked a stray curl behind her ear and sauntered over to him with a grin. “Aren’t you happy to see me?” she teased. She’d meant it to sound coy, maybe trigger a bit of flirtatious banter, but he ignored the tone and answered the question.

“Of course I’m happy to see you, I’m just surprised is all. I thought we’d agreed on a plan for tonight.”

She resisted the urge to sigh. After all, his ability to make plans and stick to them was what she liked about him. She followed him up the walkway to his front door and into the lovely comfort of his house.

He dropped his briefcase near the front door and led the way toward the kitchen. “So did Donna have any news on Mrs. Ferndale?”

“Um …” Before she could reply, Holly noticed the packed luggage sitting in the hallway. “Going somewhere?”

Benjamin never went anywhere. Ever. He was born in Oakdale and had lived there his whole life. His idea of an exotic vacation was to drive one hour north to a state park and go camping.

“Yeah, the company is sending me to Paris for a conference. I leave in the morning.”

Holly’s mouth fell open and it took her a moment to form words. “Paris? Really? That’s awesome.”

He shrugged, “It’s just a work trip.”

And then it struck her, “When were you going to tell me?”

“Tonight at dinner.” He glanced over to where she stood frozen in place by the doorway. “What’s wrong?”

Her hands clenched at her sides. Unbelievable. Benjamin—
her
Benjamin—was finally taking a trip, and to
Paris
, of all places, and he hadn’t thought to tell her, let alone invite her along.

He was watching her, his brows drawn together in concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she said, a little too quickly. She cleared her throat and tried again. “So why is your work sending you on this trip?”

Benjamin worked in IT and approximately three sentences into his story about the conference, her eyes glazed over. ‘Just a work trip,’ he’d said. Just a work trip…
to the most romantic city in the world
.

Holly had laid all the ground work. She’d dropped hints, flirted and instigated deep, meaningful talks about the possibility of a future together. For the love of God, she had done everything short of pounce on this man and beg him to marry her. And he couldn’t even be bothered to make one romantic gesture. Did she have to do everything around here?

“Holly?” He was eyeing her warily, like she might spontaneously combust.

She forced her hands to unclench and took a deep breath. She had to get out of there before she lost it. She had spent the past few months trying to prove to Benjamin that she had matured since they’d last dated, way back in high school, and that she was now emotionally stable and even-keeled.

Picking her purse back up from the table where she’d just set it down, she feigned a calm she did not feel. “I think we should take a rain check on dinner. You’re going to need your sleep before the big trip and I’ve had a long day.” She faked a loud yawn as she reached for the door. She would walk out of there without causing a scene if it killed her.

* * * *

Later that night Holly was camped out on the couch in her apartment. After living out of suitcases for so many years, she’d learned to get by with the necessities, which meant that all of her earthly belongings barely filled the spacious loft’s closet. Her parents had given her their old couch and she’d invested in a good bed. Other than that, her place was depressingly spare.

It was more depressing than ever tonight, with Chinese food cartons scattered around the couch and an empty bottle of wine beside her. What was she doing with her life? That was the theme of this particular pity party. Had she made the wrong decision coming back here to this town? To Benjamin?

Maybe. But what was the alternative? To go back to the life she had been living, a life filled with adventure and travel and new experiences . . . and men just as flaky and afraid of commitment as she was. While men like that led to a fun time—okay, a
really
fun time—she wanted more from a relationship than one night stands or casual flings. She was ready for a commitment.

She and Benjamin didn’t have the kind of mad, passionate love that her sister had found with her new husband but so what? Passion wasn’t everything. Holly and Benjamin had history and, more importantly, trust. Weren’t her parents always telling her that was the foundation for a solid marriage? She and Benjamin could be happy together. She just had to make him see it.

If he wouldn’t woo her, she would have to do it herself. Adrenaline erased the lazy malaise she’d been wallowing in all evening. She sat up straight and threw off the quilt she’d been huddled under. She’d never been one to sit by and let an opportunity pass her by, why would she start now? Flipping open her laptop, she started to assemble a plan.

Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she sorted through flights with a well-practiced eye. Her heart was racing with excitement. She would be alone with Benjamin in the most romantic place in the world.

Her traitorous mind flashed on a certain villa in Tuscany. One of the most romantic places in the world, she mentally amended.

She took a deep breath and hit “Buy ticket.”

Paris, here I come.

* * * *

Sixteen hours and multiple cups of coffee later, Holly arrived.

She’d gotten some sleep on the plane but she was still exhausted, jet lagged and feeling the after effects of that bottle of wine she’d downed the night before.

She exited the train station near the Montmartre neighborhood, where she’d stayed the last time she was in Paris between teaching gigs in Prague and Istanbul. All symptoms of a hangover disappeared in a rush of excitement.

The sights and sounds of Paris were invigorating—a noisy bustle of people and cars filled her senses, and the smell—oh, the smell. Holly inhaled deeply. She had learned that every city had a unique scent and Paris’s
parfum
was intoxicating, a heady mix of fresh baked bread and exhaust fumes.

Holly had no trouble finding a room at a hostel. As soon as she was settled, she found a landline in the hostel’s common room and pulled out a pre-paid phone card. Ivy could spread the word to their parents; she’d always been the best buffer when breaking news to their parents. Like, for example, that she’d run off to Paris on a whim to find her future husband.

“I need you to tell Mom and Dad something,” she started the conversation.

Ivy groaned. “Oh no. What did you do?”

Holly ignored that. “First, how are you feeling?”

“Like a whale,” Ivy said. “A beached whale.”

“Well, if you’ve gotta be beached, you could do worse than a villa in Tuscany,” Holly said. Ivy’s husband was newly reunited with his family in Italy and the couple opted to stay there after the wedding to give Daniel a chance to reconnect with his relatives.

“True,” Ivy said with a laugh. “I’ve got a small army waiting on me, and they’re all being led by the General.” “The General” was Ivy’s affectionate nickname for Daniel.

“Is he driving you crazy yet?” Holly teased.

She could practically hear Ivy’s eyes roll. “The man is insane. He won’t let me do anything for fear I’m going to tire myself out. Holly, I swear to God…he tried to spoon feed me my cereal this morning.”

Holly burst out laughing at the image. “That’s kinda sweet in a weird way.”

“It really is,” Ivy said with a sigh that was so sappy and swooning, it was Holly’s turn to roll her eyes.

“So what’s up?” Ivy asked.

“Benjamin went to Paris for a conference,” she started.

“Yeah, I know, Mom told me.”

“Mom told you?” Incredible. Her mother had known he was going to Paris but he hadn’t thought to tell her.

“Yeah, his mom told our mom and you know Mom calls every day to check in on the baby. I get all the juicy Oakdale gossip.”

Holly took a deep breath and shut her eyes. “I followed him,” she said on a rush of air.

“Wait, what? You followed who?” Ivy asked.

“Benjamin. I followed him to his conference.”

There was a moment of silence before Ivy said, “But, why?” The sound of complete and utter incomprehension was as comforting as it was annoying. Ivy had always been the good one—she would never, ever go running after a boy.

“Because it’s romantic,” Holly explained.

“Oh my God, you have got to be kidding me. Are you still on this kick? You can’t honestly believe that you and Benjamin are destined to be together, I thought you were moving on. I mean, when I saw you and Jack at the wedding, I thought—”

“Nothing happened between me and Jack!” The phrase came out louder than anticipated and Holly rubbed a hand over her face.

The echoing silence was as obvious as if Ivy outright said the words, “Yeah, right.”

Maybe she was protesting a bit too much but every time Jack’s name was mentioned—and it seemed like it was mentioned daily in her family—it was almost always followed by some comment about how great they looked together or what a wonderful couple they’d make. Jack was exactly the type of guy she’d have gone for in the past but now that she’d turned over a new leaf? Never gonna happen.

Benjamin on the other hand….

“We would make the perfect couple,” Holly said.

“You and Jack?” Ivy asked. She honestly sounded confused.

Holly gripped the phone tighter. Why was everyone so obsessed with that man? “No, keep up. Me and Benjamin.”

Ivy’s sigh was borderline condescending. “You
were
the perfect couple—
in eighth grade.
Times have changed. You’ve changed. There’s a whole big world out there filled with—”

Holly raised a hand to interrupt her sister as though Ivy was in the hostel room and not lounging on a veranda in Tuscany with half of Italy waiting on her hand and foot. “I’ve been out in the world, Ivy. I’m not some kid who’s never left Oakdale, okay? I’m older than you.”

“By one year,” Ivy said, most likely out of habit more than anything else. When she spoke again, her voice was softer. “What’s this really about,
Holiday
?”

There it was. Her old nickname, the one that made her feel like a seven-year-old with skinned knees and a deep desire to live in a treehouse. She considered telling her sister about what had happened the year before, the reason she’d returned to Oakdale. But then she pictured Ivy with her big belly and her doting husband and shut her mouth—there was no way she could understand. Ivy might be able to sympathize but she could never understand.

“Listen, I’ve got to get going. Just tell Mom and Dad that I’m in France and I’ll check in every few days so I don’t miss the big announcement, ‘kay? Tell them that I’ll meet up with you all in Italy—”

She heard Ivy start to protest, “Wait, France? But, Holly, Benjamin—”

Holly hung up with a grin. She’d known her sister would argue, it’s what sisters do—especially
her
sister.

 

 

Chapter 2

 

Jack was fairly certain he was hallucinating when Brunelli placed the open magazine in front of him and Daniel. After a month of seeing Holly constantly in his mind’s eye, he was sure he’d conjured her up.

Daniel cursed under his breath in a way that suggested Jack should fear for his life. No, he definitely hadn’t made this up. He and Holly were featured prominently in the center spread, she looking ethereal with her blond curls and pale blue gown, and him looking…well,
smitten
, was the only word to describe it. He leaned in to take a closer look. Good God, it almost looked like he was—

“You’re in love,” Brunelli declared, smacking the magazine with the back of his hand as though his words were a decree from above. The third partner in EverTech, the old Italian was the biggest romantic Jack had ever met.

“What? I am not in love,” Jack protested.

Daniel did not look amused. “How did this happen?”

“What do you mean, ‘how did this happen’? We were having fun.” Jack gestured toward the veranda as though the photographer was still out there. “How was I supposed to know there was somebody taking our picture?”

Daniel, who had been more and more on edge as his wife’s pregnancy progressed, looked just about ready to throttle Jack.

“Wait a second,” Jack said, feeling a tad defensive in the face of Daniel’s wrath. “Who am I dealing with here, overbearing business partner or overprotective brother-in-law?”

Daniel opened his mouth to answer but stopped as though stumped. Jack looked from Daniel to Brunelli, who just shrugged.

“I did nothing wrong here,” Jack said, pointing to the picture.

“Are you sure? Because it looks like you’re about to,” Daniel said. At that Brunelli nodded his agreement. Jack looked back at the picture. It did look incriminating. But for once, he could tell the truth, even though the truth sucked.

“I’m positive,” Jack said, giving them his best look of innocence. “I wouldn’t lie to you guys. We shared one innocent kiss”—okay, that was a stretch, it was passionate as hell and about as innocent as the devil—“but that’s where it ended.” He pointed to the beautiful blonde with blue eyes and the face of an angel. “We had a fun night together but even I wouldn’t try to seduce an innocent. She’s a second grade teacher from Ohio, for God’s sake, give me some credit.”

That much was true and Daniel knew it. The type of women Jack got involved with were worldly and experienced—the type who knew what they were getting into and had no delusions of happily ever afters. Jack didn’t do commitments; he wasn’t built that way. People who counted on him had a tendency to get hurt and he’d figured out long ago that it was best to keep his distance. The press may have declared him a heartbreaker but he had no intention of actually breaking hearts.

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