18 BEN
BEN
I burst in ridiculously, hoping to see those gorgeous eyes roll with the crinkling at the sides. I notice it more and more, her subtle smiling. My mission to lighten this woman’s heavy load seems to be working. She even FaceTimed me. I almost shit myself in front of three Japanese billionaires.
“Wifey?” I add as I walk into the house.
“Back here, boss,” she replies from a hallway off the main living room.
I rush forward and then move to hug her when I see her but stop myself. No cameras in here. I’m not sure how she’d react at the moment.
“Again with the boss?”
“Again with the wifey?” She sasses back.
Cheeky. Good to be back.
“I’m going to hug you hello now,” I say and grab her quickly. She makes a squeaky sound in protest but doesn’t pull away.
“Is this going to be another uncomfortably long one?” She asks into my shirt.
“Depends, what do you think of the house?”
She pushes me away and I let her, eager to see what expression takes over her stunning face.
She narrows her eyes, “You found my Pinterest board, huh?”
“What’s a Pinterest board?” I pretend.
She bats at my arm, a playful move I quite like, and says, “Of course I like the house. It’s beautiful.”
“Good! I told them to move you into the primary suite, is that all right?”
She shrugs jokingly, “No, it’s not alright. It’s your house, I’ll take the guest bedroom.”
We stop our walk in that direction, “But you’ll be living here all week, please, woman you—”
“Benedict. Do I look like I’m going to cave on this?”
She crosses her arms, lifting those perky tits even higher in her sweater. Hell, that sweater looks so soft…my hand starts to twitch.
“No, I don’t.” She finishes.
“Fine, let me show you around.” I bound down the hallway.
I show her the first guest bedroom, the office and the second guest bedroom, her room, apparently.
“This is directly across from the primary suite where I guess I’ll be.
Close by should you need, you know, a spider killed in the dead of night. ”
“I’m not afraid of spiders,” she replies.
“Now you’re just lying. Everyone hates spiders.
Honestly.” I huff as I move past her and her snarky smile to open the master suite door.
It’s just like the rest of the house, fresh and modern and lined in massive windows.
The original paneling has been painted over with a rich deep green, the fixtures are all brass and black, but the bedding and furniture is in soft whites and beiges.
Would have been perfect for her. Stubborn thing.
“The whole house has remote blinds in the Google Home app, lamps and thermostat too. I’ll show you,” I say quietly, watching her walk around in what looks like awe.
“Benedict…” she starts quietly. I don’t hide my smile. I had hoped she’d like it.
“It’s a good house, eh?”
“Good? I’ve never seen a house like this in Juniper Falls.”
“I’ll ask ‘round about the contractors the old owner used. They can do the same to your Gran’s place.” I say, proud of myself for thinking of it, but her face falls.
“Yeah,” she says, but she clearly disagrees with the idea. Hm.
I move to the master closet, excited to see her stylish girly stuff all set out on display before she moves it to the guest room wardrobe. The moving company has an extra service for professional home organizing as they unpack. Obviously, I paid for the upgrade.
“And in h—” I open the doors but the closet is almost empty. “Wait, where are your things?”
She comes in behind me and gasps, “Wow, this is a freaking Carrie Bradshaw closet.” I don’t ask what that is, instead waiting for a reply.
“I told them to unpack and organize all your clothes and shoes and so on, lazy wankers must’ve—” I get out my phone to call and complain.
“They did, it looks great,” she says, her voice a bit shy.
“They what? Where’s the rest?”
“This is it,” she rubs her arms, either from the cold or the sheer awkwardness around us. “Except, crap, I forgot my winter stuff from the coat closet.”
“What do you mean, this is it? You’re, you know, fashion-y. I remember, you had wicked shoes, a different dress every day and night event at Emerson’s wedding. There’s what, ten shirts here? One jumper?”
“Sweater, boss. We call them sweaters here. It’s weird you call them that, we don’t go jumping in—”
“For the love of—” I start to yell.
“I sold it all, okay?” She yells back. My mouth falls open. “I told you I had to pay off all my brother’s debt. And that’s what I did.” She storms out of the room and back out toward the living space.
“Janie,” I call after her but she doesn’t slow. “Janie!” She’s trembling a bit as she throws open the fridge.
“Did you pay for groceries, too? Of course you did,” she murmurs.
“Janelle!”
“Benedict!” She sasses at me, finally, and slams the fridge door.
I step around the marble island slowly, hands open in surrender. “Tell me what really happened. Please. Clearing out your savings is one thing but why? Why would you have to sell all your things?”
She stares me down and I stare right back, willing her to open up to me.
But she doesn’t. She blinks slowly and when her long, dark lashes flutter open again, I can see the walls are back. Whatever she’s about to say is not the full truth, not the worst of it. Not yet.
“Why does anyone sell their stuff? My savings wasn’t enough to help my brother again after moving Gran. When I said wiped out I meant it, so I had to sell everything I could, okay? Can you just drop it?”
I inhale and nod. Then I sigh, “But we’re going now to get your winter things. It’s getting cold.”
“To Gran’s? No.”
“Yes. I want to see it and I want us to get your stuff under the cover of darkness.”
She shakes her head, “I can go tomorrow.”
“Please, just show it to me. I want to see where you grew up and what you’re going to remodel.” I can see her wavering. “And I can always just go see it on my own. They won’t even charge me with breaking and entering, I’m too bloody likable.”
“Ugh, that’s true and it irritates me.”
“Everything irritates you, love.”
She sighs, “Fine. But you cannot comment on how bad her house is. And you can’t offer to help or fix it or anything, you get me? I already got a payment and this is what the payments are for. You can’t go be all….billionaire about this.”
“Done,” I say.
“You have to promise.”
“Fine, I promise.”
She nods and I grab the Range Rover keys Nigel tossed me as I walked up the front steps earlier.
I know her Gran’s is in a dodgy part of town.
I know the house is run down, one of Nigel’s men reported as much.
I know I’m a billionaire and it makes things awkward.
I just don’t know why she’d be so cagey about showing it to me.
It’s her Gran’s ancient house, not her personal dream home. It’s not some part of Janie herself.
“Can you even drive?” She asks me as we enter the garage. I force myself not to comment on the hideous decaying Lincoln in front of us. I head for my rental instead.
“You’ll have to tell me,” I reply and then wink. “Shit! Sorry. No winking.” She smiles a small smile so I carry on, “The wink is just too much charm, I understand. We can’t have you falling in love with me.”
She shakes her head and looks out the window as I start the car but she is smiling even wider as she says, “Absolutely no concerns there.”
I huff a wounded little sound, pretending to be hurt by her disapproval of me.
Well, if I’m honest with myself, I don’t have to pretend all that much.
_____
Damn it damn it damn it. Do not say anything. School your face, Ben. Neutral. Neutral!
I coach myself but it’s bloody difficult.
“This is it. Home sweet home from the time I was two until basically the second I turned eighteen.”
Her Gran’s house has got to be one more missing siding piece away from being condemned by the town. The whole street is the same. At least one of the nearby townhouses is abandoned. One further down the way burned down completely and no one repaired it or cleaned up the aftermath.
And it’s freezing in here.
“My stuff’s in here,” she says with a shiver.
“Well, bloody put it on!” I say, and then hold my tongue. There’s no way the heat is on in this place.
“I know it’s cold, the furnace is…finicky.” She says quietly, eyeing me and then the peeling wallpaper behind me. I can see she’s lying. I bet the damn furnace hasn’t worked in weeks. Months. Years.
Blood.y.hell!
This kills me.
“Hm,” I manage to say.
It kills me that I’ve been spending the couple weeks we’ve been married in penthouses and presidential suites and she’s been here, literally shivering. Thank God I haven’t sorted her remote work contract yet or else she’d have been here all day!
She puts on a heavy sweater and grabs a basket with maybe a blanket and a hat or scarf? Gloves, maybe? And two coats, the long, thin puffer one she wore for the scarecrow contest and a more stylish—if a bit old—pea coat. Both black and both not very warm.
“I left my backpack too,” she almost whispers.
I show myself around as she runs up the stairs.
We only moved over Janie’s things, so the house is still very lived-in.
There are many adorable photos of my stubborn wife and her brother as kids.
There are a few of the two of them with her Gran, a lovely woman with Janie’s gray eyes, sun kissed cheeks and dark brown hair.
Finally, I find the image I’m looking for.
A tattered family photo by Lake Juniper.
A woman who looks, wow, exactly like Janie, if a bit darker-skinned, stands next to a tall man whose hair is almost blond in the summer sun.
The woman, who has to be Janie’s mother, holds the baby and Janie’s father is holding a toddler, which must be her.
“I was a chunker, huh?” Janie says behind me.
I turn and take her in.
She looks tired.
Her all-black ensemble is faded at the seams. Her boots are nice but the toes are worn. Her backpack is black leather that’s long since lost its sheen.
I turn and stalk toward her. I put my hands on her biceps and grip just barely.
She doesn’t pull away, but I can see she’s about to tell me off. The urge to kiss the words out of her gorgeous mouth is strong, but I ignore it.
“I’m not going to help with the house,” I say quickly.
“I’m also not going to rip you a bloody new one for living in a house without heating, even though I really, really want to.
But I am, as your friend and your contractual husband, and technically your boss,” her eyes go wide and I lean in until our breaths dance dangerously together.
My voice lowers at the proximity, “Oh yes, darling, I’m going there.
I’m pulling the boss card. All my cards.
Because I will be buying you new clothes.
” I lean back a bit to look at her. “New boots, thicker coats, warm sweaters. Hell, you can take my card and get it all by yourself if you want, but you are going to get new things. With my money.” She starts to protest but I lean down again, closer still to her full, pink lips.
More dangerous. More tempting. I grit my teeth, and almost growl the words, “ Right bloody now.”
“F-fine.” She says, eyes still locked on mine.
I nod but don’t back away.
Even a bit worse for wear, she smells divine. I want to inhale her. I want to hug her. I think I’d like to bite that sass right off her bottom lip.
But I finally release her instead.
“Let’s go shop then.”