22. Chapter 22
Avery
“There are only three boy cousins,” I explain to Benson as I turn onto a side street. “Sadie’s brother, Brody, who is the only grandkid older than me. Chloe’s brother, Gavin. And…”
I’ve been telling him stories about my childhood as we’ve driven from one Little Free Library to the next, and we got on the subject of my extended family when one of the libraries had a book we used to read all the time as a kid.
He’s been rereading the text thread when he chatted with my cousins during Riccardo’s reception while I’ve told him more about them, and I can’t decide if he’s enjoying this conversation or not because he’s been so quiet.
Maybe even thoughtful.
I wrinkle my nose and sigh as I name the last of my male cousins. “And Kaden.”
“What’s up with Kaden?” It’s the first thing Benson has said in at least half an hour that wasn’t a grunt or a hum, and I suppose I should thank Kaden for getting the man to talk again.
He hands me my phone, but not before I notice he had switched to looking at pictures in my camera roll instead of the text thread.
Pictures of Italy.
While I’d rather comment on where his attention has really been, I don’t want to push my luck. “Aside from Poppy, he’s the baby of the family, the only son of the only son.”
“What’s wrong with sons?”
I turn onto the street with our next library option and scoff. “Absolutely nothing! But Kaden? He’s kind of a terror. When he was a kid, he peed in my favorite pair of UGGs.”
Benson snorts. “UGGs? Seriously? I thought you were cooler than that.”
I whack his arm and then pull to a stop on the curb, shifting the car into park.
“It was the 2000s. Of course I had UGGs. But Kaden peed in them, and they were never the same.” I slouch in my seat, losing some of the lightness I’ve been feeling all morning.
Whether intentionally or not, Benson is good at making me forget about reality whenever he’s around.
“Our Grandma Sue is throwing a party for him this weekend because he graduated from Harvard a few months ago, and it’s been so long since I had time to go to a family function that I need to go. ”
“But?”
“But none of my cousins can make it, which means it’s just going to be me and all the adults.”
“And Kaden,” Benson points out with a chuckle.
I groan. “And Kaden.”
“Is he that bad?”
I drop my head against the headrest and sigh.
He’s not really the reason I don’t want to go, but I’m not sure Benson will get the real reason.
“No one understands why I called off my wedding so close to the day,” I say quietly, “so I’ve been avoiding everyone, but that isn’t helping anything because I’m the oldest granddaughter, and there’s always been that expectation to set an example and be involved.
” Not that I’ve always been good at that…
Benson lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head.
“I’m the youngest.” It’s the first time he’s mentioned his family, a subject I tried to steer clear of for fear of spooking him, and I hold my breath, waiting to see if he’ll say any more.
“Trust me, it doesn’t matter where you are in the family for expectation to weigh on you. ”
I wish he would keep talking because there’s some weight to his comment, but my boldness does not extend to pushing him about topics he actively avoids.
Without anything to say, I want to take his hand in a show of solidarity.
To offer comfort. To grab on and never let go.
But he opens his door and slips out of the car, and I’m pretty sure we’re done with that topic of conversation.
It’s okay. I’m slowly peeling back the layers of Benson West, and if I keep at it, I might find the gooey center of a man who is willing to take a risk. Or maybe I won’t. Maybe Benson will always be afraid of commitment, but at least I’ll know I tried.
That’s all I can do now.
As I get out of the car and follow Benson to this latest library, my jaw slides open.
“It’s gorgeous!” I say, almost reverently.
The owner took an old London phone booth and turned it into a bookcase, and it’s almost magical seeing all the books stacked behind the glass door.
“This is hands down my favorite one so far.”
Benson chuckles, hands in his pockets. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to top this.” But there’s something in his voice, something he isn’t saying, though it’s hard to tell what he might be thinking because his eyes are on the phone booth.
I fold my arms. “But?”
He looks at me out of the corner of his eye.
“But there are probably tons of people who come to this one. What if we picked a smaller library that might not get as much traffic? People don’t get any money from having these libraries, but I’m sure they would love visitors all the same.
Get the book circulating a little more, you know? ”
“That’s…actually a great idea.”
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
“Too late. The more I learn about you, the more interesting you become.” I grin when he blushes.
It is remarkably fun to be the cause of a reaction like that, and now I understand why Benson so shamelessly flirted with me in Florence.
I feel powerful and free. “But you’re right.
Choosing a smaller library would both bring other libraries in the area some attention, and it would also make the hunt more fun. Hopefully garner some good publicity.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“In that case, I liked the library before the last one we looked at.”
Benson nods, finally turning his head to look at me. “Busier neighborhood, so neighbors won’t have to worry too much about increased traffic, sturdy and clean box housing the books to protect against damage, easy to find. I think that’s a great choice.”
“Great.” Except, that means we don’t have any good reasons to stay away from the office. I glance at my phone, not sure if I want the time to move faster or stop altogether. “It’s too early for lunch,” I mutter.
“Yeah,” Benson agrees. He doesn’t make any moves to return to the car, which I’m taking as a sign.
“But it’s nice out today.”
He glances at the sky. “Yep.”
“It would be a shame to be cooped up in the office all day.”
A smile plays on his lips as he shakes his head at me, like I’m the most ridiculous person he’s ever met. “What are you trying to say, Baldwin?”
“Want to walk around for a bit? I hear it’s good for clearing the head and making it easier to focus.” Mostly, I’m not ready for our conversations to end, and if we go back, I’m worried he’ll shut himself up in Eric’s office the rest of the day.
Sighing, he holds his elbow out for me to take.
“So, tell me,” I say and loop my arm through his before he changes his mind. “When you’ve been doing your own thing and aren’t listening to me blabber on, what have you been working on?”
“No one in the world thinks you blabber.”
“Eric does.”
“Well Eric can be an idiot. I love listening to you talk.”
The warmth that blossoms in my chest rivals the growing heat of the day. It’s September, but summer is still in full force. Yet Benson somehow makes me feel warmer than the sun ever could.
I lean into him, tightening my hold on his arm as we walk. “Thanks. But sometimes I wonder if you and Eric are really friends when you say things like that.”
He chuckles. “Idiotic tendencies aside, he’s one of the best guys I know.”
“Before yesterday, I would have said the same thing. But he’s been…” I don’t know the right word to describe how Eric has been acting ever since I got back from Italy.
“Different,” Benson mutters. “Yeah, I was wondering if that was the case.”
“Maybe he’ll be back to his calm and content self after the conference.”
“Maybe.” He doesn’t sound all that confident.
“And to answer your question, I’ve been trying to build a solid business plan with standard operating procedures, working with Rogers on maximizing his investment, getting some tools set up so you and Eric have better performance metrics.
Things like that. Anything that will make your job easier when I’m gone. ”
Ah yes. When he’s gone. The reminder settles heavy in my stomach.
I’m dreading that day, especially because I don’t know if he would want to stay in Utah even if he does agree to a relationship, and I’m not sure I could handle long distance.
The couple of days in between leaving Italy and Benson showing up here were bad enough.
Do I want to put my hope in a man who travels for a living?
During my earlier questioning, I got the clear sense that he is rarely home.
And yet I don’t want to imagine a life without Benson in it now that I’ve gotten a taste of having him in my life.
“You’ve been able to do all that even when I keep talking to you?” I ask, trying to distract myself before I sink into a pit of despair. That’s being dramatic, but I don’t care. I’m going to let myself feel all the things because I’m tired of holding it in.
“I happen to be incredibly efficient,” Benson says. He pulls his hand out of his pocket, severing our connection and leaving me disappointed. But then his fingers lace with mine, and the disappointment fades. “And I meant what I said. I like talking to you.”
We round a corner as we fall into silence, walking hand in hand through a random neighborhood in South Jordan like we’ve done this a million times. It’s not nearly as exciting as Florence, but there’s a peace in walking side by side with another person.
My phone buzzes in my purse, interrupting that peace, and my watch shows an unknown number. Normally I would ignore it, but with Lynda out sick, I worry it might be business-related. Letting go of Benson’s hand, I dig into my purse and answer the call. “Hello?”
“Avery!” The familiar voice is louder than necessary, forcing me to pull the phone away from my ear.
“Poppy?”
“You’re going to be at Kaden’s little party thing, right?”
“Uh, why?”
“Because I have to work, but I have something to give to him.”