CHAPTER 14 BEN
I drive the four of us to lunch on Monday a little after noon.
We could go somewhere a little more private, but this place tends to be a celebrity hangout in Vegas, which is why Ellie suggested it.
It’s not a long walk from the parking lot to the door, but I spot at least five cell phones pointed in our direction as people snap photos of the four of us out for lunch.
Our photos will be all over the gossip sites. We’re controlling the narrative—a phrase I learned from Ellie—and I like the story we’re telling.
I like how the images of me down on one knee on Friday night are everywhere.
I thought it would scare me to see that splashed all over the place, but instead…it fills my chest with an unfamiliar and unexpected warmth.
We’re seated and the ladies each order wine while my dad and I each order a beer. We peruse the menus as Carol leads the conversation—mostly unimportant small talk about the menu offerings, but appreciated all the same to ensure we avoid any awkward spells of silence.
When one of those spells arrives after we order our food, I fill it. “We were going to tell everyone this tonight, but we’re heading to Montana tomorrow morning.” I glance at Kaylee, who agreed earlier this morning that it’s fine to tell them.
My dad looks unsurprised, but Carol gasps. “You’re what?” she says. “What about Jack’s wedding?”
“It’s still over two weeks away,” Kaylee points out. “Don’t worry, we’ll be back for all the events.”
“What are you going to do up there?” she asks.
I lift a shoulder. “A whole bunch of nothing. It’s always what I do up there.
I’ve got a few horses, so maybe we’ll ride.
I’ve got a lake, so maybe we’ll fish. I’ve got walking paths, so maybe we’ll hike.
I own a gym, so maybe we’ll stop by and check in on it.
We’ll eat fresh eggs and breathe in the fresh mountain air. ”
“I’m officially on Ellie’s payroll now, too, so I’ll have that to work on. I think we just both want to escape the circus around here a while,” Kaylee says.
As if to prove her point, a fan approaches me. “Are you Ben Olson?” She’s young and excited and trembling with nerves.
I grin. “That’s me.”
“Oh my God!” she squeals, and she takes my picture. “Can I get one with you?”
“Of course,” I say, and I stand and smile as her friend snaps the two of us and then as she snaps me with her friend. I sign a napkin for each of them and they go on their way.
Sometimes I just want to eat in a restaurant and not be interrupted to take a photo…but I would never, ever make a fan who had the balls to come up to me feel that way.
It’s part of what I signed up for, and as I glance at Kaylee, it’s plain to see on her face that it’s not what she signed up for.
It’s not the first sign that things might not work out the way we’re hoping, but it certainly doesn’t help.
I know part of Kaylee’s reason for wanting this lunch was to observe the interaction between her mom and my dad. If my dad says they’re just friends, I tend to believe they’re just friends. My dad’s a pretty straight shooter, but I have also never really seen him date anybody.
I’m sure he has. He’s been divorced from my mom for well over two decades at this point, and I don’t believe a man would really go that long without getting something somewhere…but anyone he’s ever dated has been kept a secret from me.
I guess I don’t really know what he’s like with a woman. On the other hand, he’s my dad. Just because my dating life is no secret doesn’t mean he holds those same values. Maybe I’m more like my mom in that regard even though it pains me to admit I’m anything like her.
My dad sits quietly and lets everyone else lead the conversation, and that is completely in line with who he is. He offers his opinion when he’s directly asked and is part of the conversation but never holds the center of attention.
Another way we are nothing alike.
Our food arrives and Carol asks more questions about my place in Montana. I wonder if she genuinely wants to know about it or if she’s trying to get a pulse on what Kaylee and I are going to be doing up there.
The way she looks between us tells me she doesn’t believe the lie were telling.
I have to admit, even though I wrote off anything more than friendship between the two of them at first, I definitely catch more than one meaningful glance between the two of them. Maybe there’s more there than they’re letting on.
They’ll tell us when and if they’re ready. Until then, it’s not my concern.
Apparently, it is Kaylee’s concern, though. She brings it up several times as we prepare to have her family over for dinner and as we pack up whatever shit we want to bring to Montana. We’re driving there and we’ll have the Scout, so we can stuff the back full of all the luxuries of home.
And she takes full advantage of that.
I’m a fairly simple guy. I’m used to traveling, used to being a nomad—and I’ve got everything I need at my place up there, anyway. I don’t have to pack anything except my wallet, keys, phone, and my dog.
It’s my home away from home. The place I flee to whenever I need an escape.
My focus today is less on packing and more on tying up loose ends so the key people in my life know that I’ll be out of town for the next few weeks, while her focus is on making sure she has enough clothes and make-up to last her the month we’ll be there.
I remind her that there are, in fact, both laundry machines and stores in Montana, and her reply is just a laugh.
I decide to keep dinner simple since we’re leaving in the morning, so I’m planning to grill steaks for the family dinner.
I pair it with some roasted broccoli and garlic focaccia.
Kaylee is a good sous chef in the kitchen as she takes direction easily, and all our prep work is done just as the doorbell rings.
My dad arrives first, and for as much as I credit my Gramma with teaching me how to cook, it’s my dad who taught me how to grill.
“I feel like I just saw you,” I say when I open the door.
He chuckles. “You did.”
I open the door wider to let him in, and he walks through to the kitchen. He nods toward Kaylee, who makes her way around the counter to give him a hug.
“You get it started up?” he asks once he sees the steaks on the counter.
I shake my head. “You want to take over so I can entertain my guests?”
He chuckles. “I’m the only guest here. Care to join me?”
The doorbell rings. “I’ll get it,” Kaylee says. “You two go on out.”
My dad raises an eyebrow at me the minute we’re outside, and somehow even at thirty-two he can still make me feel like a little kid about to get a stern talking-to.
“What?” I challenge.
“I see the way you look at her, son.”
“Yeah.” I glance through the slider doors as she walks into the kitchen with Luke and Ellie, who holds Nolan in her arms. They’re talking animatedly and laughing, and Kaylee gestures at something in the kitchen. I turn back to my dad. “I’m in love with her.”
“Thought as much,” he says. “Is it mutual?”
“Yes, but she doesn’t want her family to know.”
“Why not?” he asks, his brows furrowing.
“We agreed when things first started between us that it was just easier to keep it a secret. Feelings started to get involved, and then Ellie suggested the media ploy.” I shrug.
“It’s complicated. Telling her family puts expectations neither of us wants on what we’re starting, and if it all blows up, nobody ever has to know.
If they know and it all blows up, they’ll have to choose sides, and I can’t have that shit running through the locker room. ”
“Just be careful,” he warns.
I laugh. “Have you ever known me to be careful?”
He shakes his head a little ironically. “That’s why I said it.”
The slider door opens and Luke joins us, effectively ending our conversation.
Jack shows up a few minutes later, and the men stand near the grill regaling each other with tales of the grate.
I head inside to check the broccoli, and once the steaks are done, we gather around the brand-new table that just arrived this afternoon when we got back from lunch.
And through it all, I can’t help when I keep glancing at Kaylee. I can’t help but catch her eye and give her a secret little smile or wink.
I can’t help but slide my hand onto her thigh under the table and give it a little squeeze. I can’t help but brush my fingertips a little higher on her leg than necessary.
I force myself not to toss my arm around her shoulders. I force myself to keep all above-the-table activity appropriate.
But the second her family leaves tonight…her ass is mine.