Page 4 of Candy Hearts
But his career wasn’t floundering any longer. He was doing well for himself and didn’t feel the ache of wanting more, more, more. He was finally at a point where he could slow down, and rolling into his thirty-fifth year of life seemed as good a time as any. Too bad every date he’d gone on in the last month had been a circus and a half.
His best friend, Wren, had suggested thinking long and hard about what William wanted in a partner, to pinpoint the type of person who would mesh well with him—it certainly hadn’t been Wren when they’d been together. William had always excelled at homework, so he’d created a list of criteria for his perfect partner using a template from the back of a self-help relationship book from the library. The template wasn’t unlike the consumer profiles he and his business partner, Tina, made before opening a new bar or planning a big event.
But the last thing William wanted was for the bright and bubbly Benji to find all his hopes and dreams scrawled on a piece of copy paper.
He had just scooped up his dating profile and library book when Benji rounded the corner.
“Oh, you’re dressed,” Benji said.
William glanced down at his chinos and button-down. “Disappointed?”
“A little. You don’t have to get dressed on my account. Hell, I was thinking of joining you. In pajamas. Not joining you in getting undressed.”
Benji blushed, and William gobbled the man up with his eyes.
The wild, dark-blond hair. The wide mouth and freckled nose. The long, long legs and broad chest. His impressive height and huge hands. The overalls.
“Nice overalls,” William said, his voice coming out a bit ragged.
Benji grinned. William couldn’t stare at that smile for too long. It was like gazing at the sun. Something was blooming inside him, and intellectually he knew it was lust, but damn.
He skimmed the dating criteria in his hand, phrases jumping out.
Thirty-five or older
Business professional or business owner with high investment in career
Must enjoy nonfiction,The New Yorker, and true-crime podcasts
At the moment, his criteria felt like a pipedream, and it wasn’t what hewanted. Not with Benji Holiday right in front of him wearing a tight white T-shirt, denim overalls, and a smile. William wanted to see Benji kneeling on the rug in front of the fireplace. He wanted to reveal all Benji’s secrets.
That was probably not a good idea.
Was it?
No.
Well, maybe.
No, it definitely wasn’t.
William turned on his heel, strode into his office, and deposited his dating criteria onto the futon. He probably had ten years on Benji. He needed to get control of himself.
When he returned, seconds later, he croaked, “Lunch?” They had limited food options, what with the power out, and he’d expected to be alone, so he hadn’t gone to the grocery store. “I have the stuff for peanut butter sandwiches, and I put drinks in a cooler on the deck.”
“I ate on the way, but I’d take a drink. Whatcha got?”
“Let me show you.” William led Benji to the deck by taking him through the sunroom, which was a glassed-in room full of wicker furniture. William had planned to sleep out there on an air mattress once everyone else arrived.
The porch had a door that opened onto a large deck. The deck led to a short boardwalk that transitioned into a private dock. When William had bought the place, he’d imagined himself sitting out on that dock with his feet in the water, drinking up the sunshine, but he rarely made the trek out of the city to enjoy this place. He hadn’t truly settled into any of the rooms except the office. And if that wasn’t sad, William didn’t know what was.
“Wow. This could be so pretty,” Benji said.
“Could be?” William said, a laugh escaping. It was a lake. What wasn’t pretty about a lake?
“Yeah, I mean, the water just looks cold and muddy. Is it prettier in the summer?”
It was true that Copper Lake wasn’t exactly a tourist destination. That was one of the appeals to William. Property out here wasn’t in high demand despite the waterfront. It was simply a muddy fishing lake, partially iced over at the moment, and surrounded by willows and scrubby grass. It had its fair share of snakes and catfish, but William had fallen in love with it the minute he’d seen the murky water lapping at the shore. He’d thought he could feel at home here one day.
