Chapter 21
REESE
He doesn’t notice me leaning against the frame of his door, he’s so intent on a file folder spread out on his desk. And so I simply stand there and watch him for a moment. Ben may not take two steps without having that charming little smirk on his lips, but when he’s concentrating on something, his brow is usually furrowed and his mouth is ever so slightly downturned. It’s another very handsome side to him. I almost don’t want to interrupt him.
“I finished these for you.”
Blue eyes shoot up to take me in, flickering downward over my body before returning to my face, as if it’s impossible not to check all of me out. For Ben, I think it may be. Then again, now that I’ve gotten a good glimpse of everything beneath his clothes, I’ve been taking every opportunity to check him out as he passes by my office, too. It usually ends with my heart rate quickening and me losing focus. Ben has become incredibly damaging to my concentration.
Setting his pen down, he leans back and heaves a sigh. “Hey, Reese.” The smirk is there, but there’s an edge of something to go with it. The same something that’s been lingering every time I’ve crossed paths with him this week. I think it’s wariness.
If I had to guess, Jack said something to him about dropping me off on Sunday morning. When I texted Ben about it, though, he denied that any conversation had ever taken place. And then he asked me what I was wearing.
Walking in, I place the folder on his desk. “Pages are all marked. I’ve also prepared the additional paperwork for your client to sign.”
“You’ve been busy.” The words that would normally be flirtatious from Ben seem almost clipped now. I want playful Ben back. I also think I want him to kiss me again. “Tired?”
“Yeah. This work just never ends.”
I slink into his spare chair and put my feet up on his desk. “How can I help?”
I don’t miss his quick glance out toward the left, where Jack’s office is. He leans forward and lowers his voice to a low crackle just above a whisper, because I don’t think Ben is capable of whispering. “Look, I’ve seen you completely naked twice now. Having you in here is giving me a raging hard-on that I won’t be able to hide if I get called into a meeting, which is about to happen. You need to get your cute ass out of here now so I can focus.”
I let my legs slide off and drop to the floor noisily. “Suit yourself.” A strange mixture of excitement and disappointment sweeps through me with his words.
Jack totally threatened him.
It’s my own fault. I should have had Ben drop me off down the street. Jack is always up that early and I knew there was a chance that he’d be on his treadmill, the one in the room above the garage that overlooks the driveway.
Standing, I head toward the door. As my hand grasps the doorknob, Ben’s heavy sigh fills the air. “Look, I just can’t risk losing my job over this.”
I pause to look over at him. “Over what? We’re just friends, right?”
The pen in his hand flicks back and forth as he regards me for a moment. And then he smiles. “Yup, just friends.”
I hold up a finger. “But don’t forget, fake boyfriend, we still have a deal.” I haven’t talked to Jared since that day at the café, more than a week ago. I hear that little voice screaming inside my head, the words “let him go” on repeat, but a part of me—the part that makes me open up Facebook and type in his name as soon as I wake up in the morning—isn’t ready yet. I just can’t figure out exactly why. Is it for the sake of pride? The promise of retribution? Or is it because I know all is not well in Caroline’s stolen paradise? Because I want my paradise back?
“Yeah . . .” That one word draws out of Ben’s mouth with another glance toward Jack’s office as he shakes his head, a strange frown marring his face. “Just don’t get your fake boyfriend fired.”
“Here.” I set one of Mrs. Cooke’s muffins down on his desk, my stomach doing a small flip at the sight of Ben’s arms, looking all the more defined in a fitted silvery-blue golf shirt. I think blue is my favorite color on him. It makes his eyes pop. “They’re going fast.”
Ben looks up from his desk, glancing at my offering, and then up at me. “That’s because I’ve already eaten three this morning.” Reaching out to wrap a giant hand around it, he says with a wry smile, “But thanks. I’ll gladly take this one too.”
“You’re going to grow a belly like Jack if you don’t slow down on those.”
Taking a bite, he watches me with curious eyes while he chews and swallows. “Will you still love me when I don’t look like this?”
“Absolutely not.” I turn to walk out, his snicker making me smile.
But then his words catch me at his doorway. “You know, you’re acting awfully nice to me. It’s out of character. People are starting to notice. They think Rancor is developing a little crush.” I look over my shoulder in time to catch his wink. “We wouldn’t want that, now, would we?”
I can’t tell if he’s just teasing me or if people are actually saying that and noticing a difference in me. But I do know that we definitely don’t want that kind of rumor floating around. “You know better, though, right?” It almost comes out as a warning.
Grinning broadly, he holds the muffin up and says, “No worries here, Reese. Thanks for this.”
I didn’t realize I was holding my breath but I guess I was, because I release it in a heavy sigh. Just to be on the safe side, I add in a calm but loud—loud enough for half the office to hear—voice, “I hope you choke on that and die. Have a nice day!”
Reese MacKay does not “crush” on anyone.
Ben’s laughter trails me past a dozen nosy clerks and admins, all the way into my own office.
Life at work has taken a turn down Dreadfully Boring Street. It’s not that I ever particularly enjoyed it, but the last few weeks had felt different. More lively. Now, my office feels empty and dull. Not for the lack of file folders or coffee cups, though.
It’s because a certain six-foot-three-inch blond guy ensures he’s never in a room alone with me anymore. I’m still focused 100 percent on Natasha’s and his cases, but he has started going to the other paralegals—who aren’t half as quick or efficient as I am—for answers.
For a while there, I was worried he might believe these “rumors” that I have a thing for him and was intentionally avoiding me because he doesn’t want to lead me on. But I catch those blue eyes on me all the time. He’s not embarrassed about it, either. I know because he winks at me every time our eyes connect.
I can’t even corner him in his office, because he’s in meetings with Natasha all the time.
And now I’m starting to get paranoid that there’s something going on between him and the law bot, even though she’s engaged and I’m pretty sure she’d never agree to casual sex. She’s probably as militant in bed as she is with everything else, something I doubt Ben would be into.
I hope he wouldn’t be into.
Unless she’s one of those people who tie their men up and whip them. Ben might be into that.
I hate this.
I don’t even want anything with Ben besides what we already have. I just don’t want him to have that with anyone else.
So now I find myself looking for every excuse possible to stop by Ben’s office. That’s why I’m standing in line, buying a cup of this dreadful coffee—a joke, really—and some scones.
“I’ve seen you here before. I can’t believe I didn’t realize who you were.”
People say that southern drawls are beautiful and relaxing. At nine a.m. and coming from its source, I would describe it more like nails-on-a-chalkboard grating.
I glance over my shoulder to catch Caroline’s sour expression and wonder why she’s here so late. The four times I waited on that park bench outside for her, the girl walked in at eight thirty, like clockwork. Though, by the sharp look in her eyes, I’m starting to think that she may have been doing the waiting today. “Sorry, can’t say I ever noticed you.” I pay for my purchase and step away from the counter. “Have a great day!” I offer in the most annoying, chirpy voice I can manage as I pass by her and head out the door.
A vice-like grip latches onto my arm. “You don’t think I know what you’re doing?” Caroline hisses.
I glance down at her hand and she releases it quickly as if suddenly spotting lesions. “Was that a trick question? Because I’m heading to work. It’s not exactly surreptitious.”
She stabs me with an icy glare. “There are an awful lot of coincidences at play here, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Aside from us having the same taste in men and cafés, I’m not seeing it.” She’s standing so close to me that I can smell her breath. It smells like watermelon. The simulated-flavor gum kind. I hate watermelon. Figures.
Her eyes narrow. “How did your number end up in Jared’s phone again?”
I struggle to hide my surprise. Jared has a thing about his phone and keeping people out of it. Or maybe it was just keeping me out of it, because he was texting his ex.
Her next words answer my confusion. “That’s the thing about knowing someone since you were six years old. They’re pretty predictable. Even with their passwords.”
“What’s wrong, you don’t trust him?” I doubt Jared would be happy having his jealous wife snooping through his things, and she’s jealous all right. I feel the spike of joy deep inside.
“You will never get him back,” she says slowly and evenly, with the kind of confidence that can’t be faked. “Jared has been in love with me all his life. He was so crushed when we broke up that he would have taken anything. Why else do you think he’d marry a motorcycle-riding psycho like you? You were a mistake that he regrets every day. He’s mine and he always will be.”