Chapter 8
EIGHT
Monday morning light slanted through the kitchen window, bright and warm, turning the dust motes into tiny sparks.
Ben rubbed the heel of his hand over his jaw, listening to the faint rasp of stubble.
The kitchen smelled like coffee and his fingers smelled like silver from his latest jewelry project, still lying on black velvet spread across his kitchen table.
It had to be perfect. It was the only thing that could take his attention away from sketching out more designs for the Ember Sword.
Truth be told, he already knew exactly how he wanted it to look.
This is the chance of a lifetime.
Only one person could distract Ben from his task.
He’d been back at the Faire yesterday, pretending he wasn’t thinking about a tall blonde with eyes like hazel fire.
Even though she was working full-time as long as Viv and Rowan were in town, part of him hoped he’d see Charlie in the crowd, watching him like she had Saturday afternoon after the damn Caidansworn incident.
Ben sipped his coffee and chuckled, remembering Magpie and the others. He loved the way his Ren Faire family watched out for each other.
When those five assholes had started toward the costume shop, he hadn’t understood what the hell they were on about.
He’d hoped for a moment that he was overreacting and this was just some weird Ren Faire improv gone wrong.
Turned out it was fandom rage. Ben had spent an hour that night reading the comment threads on BattleLore fan sites like they were evidence from a crime scene.
Viv was apparently killing off Duke Holloway’s character, Caiden, and half the fandom had lost its collective mind.
He poured himself another cup of coffee and leaned on the counter as the mug warmed his hand.
He thought about the day ahead. He’d almost backed out of Viv’s invitation to join them but Rowan talked him up some more, telling Viv that Ben was a former Ranger, knew the Front Range like no one’s business, and he’d be helpful navigating the wilderness—as if they were going off on a quest to slay a dragon.
Now, the kitchen felt too quiet. It was too early to start for Viv and Rowan’s hotel in Denver, but he didn’t have enough time to get back to his jewelry project.
Images of Charlie started haunting him again.
During their getaway, he’d watched her move through that crowd like she owned the entire Faire. Calm, precise, eyes tracking threats before anyone else even noticed there was a problem.
Warrior Princess, through and through.
After the Caidansworn were banned, they’d all walked back from security to his forge.
Luckily, his friend Della, who ran the costume shop and had a sixth sense for trouble, had sent her son over to his stall to handle sales while he was helping to get Viv to safety.
Ben tipped the kid from the cash box and sent him back across the way as people gathered for his next sword-making demonstration.
He’d expected Viv and Rowan to want to wander the Faire, but they stayed for his show.
Ben had started in on his usual bad jokes as he forged another knife from a rail spike. The crowd laughed, but he only cared about Charlie’s reaction. She was still on her guard, watching the crowd and braced for another attack, but he’d gotten her to smile, and cover a laugh twice.
It made him feel like he’d found his way through a tiny crack in her armor for the second time that day.
The first was that moment before the trouble started—that moment with the dress.
Ben hadn’t meant to stare. But he’d watched her touch the silver-blue silk like it was holy. Like it was something she’d never allow herself to want.
That image had been looping in his head for two days.
Sunday before the gates opened, he’d gone to Della’s shop under the pretense of thanking her for sending her son across the way.
Della had seen right through him, of course.
“I can see you screwing up your courage. You’re here for something else, Benjamin Blacksmith.”
“W-what are you talking about?”
“Come on, out with it. It’s the ,” she said, chin lifted, eyes bright with gossip. “The tall one who looks like she could stop lightning from striking with a stern look at the clouds.”
Ben shook his head. “That’d be her,” he’d admitted.
“I saw her admiring the dress at my door.” She held up a finger calloused from countless needle pricks. “Among other things.”
“She’s got good taste,” Ben said.
“Yes, she does. And good taste in dresses, too.”
Ben’s eyes went wide. “N-no, that’s…there’s nothing…”
Cackling, Della had already turned on her heel and was weaving her way through the maze of crowded clothing racks. “Come along, come along. You’ve got good taste as well.”
He’d almost laughed. Instead, Ben followed Della, stopping every few feet to pick up a dress or blouse he’d knocked off a rack. He’d squeezed through wider hidden tunnels than this.
“Can it be adjusted?”
“You mean tailored to fit her?” Della grinned as she took the dress off its hook and held it up.
“Of course, I do it all the time.” She studied the dress.
“She’s built long and strong. I can take out the hem in the skirt, make the sleeves three-quart length, and add a couple panels to the lace-up bodice.
That’ll make it hers.” She slipped into the Cockney she usually saved for the fair-goers.
Give me ‘til the end of the day, Benjamin Blacksmith, and you’ll have a fine gown for your lady fair, won’t you? ”
He’d left with a receipt and a smile.
Now the gown was in a garment bag hanging behind his workshop door, and he couldn’t decide if he’d done something brilliant or utterly stupid.
Probably both.
He drained the coffee, grabbed his phone, and hit Shane’s number before he could talk himself out of it.
Shane picked up on the second ring. “Moose. What’s up?”
“ When we went to lunch the other day, why didn’t you tell me that Vivienne Cross and Rowan McCrae were Charlie’s principals?” Ben asked without preamble.
Silence. Then Shane’s laugh came warmly through the phone. “You two bumped into each other at the Ren Faire.”
“You could say that. Rowan’s an old friend of mine. I met him the summer of my senior year when I was apprenticing for the blacksmith while the rest of you were off punishing your livers.”
Shane chuckled. “Good times.”
“So why didn’t you tell me?”
“Client confidentiality, brother. You know how it works.”
“Bullshit,” Ben growled. “You could have given me a heads-up.”
“And spoil the surprise? Where’s the fun in that?
” Shane was clearly enjoying this. “Besides, I’ve gone above and beyond already, trying to give you every possible in with Charlie and you haven’t taken any of them.
I’m done trying to set you two up. You’re both adults. You’ll figure it out yourselves.”
Ben scrubbed a hand over his face. “Shane—”
“Okay, okay.” Shane’s tone softened, turned serious. “What’s really going on? Something happen at the Faire?”
Ben took a breath. “I bought her a dress.”
A beat of silence. “You…what now?”
Ben ran his hand over his stubble. “It looks like the one Princess Evelaine wore the first time Aldric professed his love in the Forest Between the Worlds in book two.”
“I’m not a nerd so you just lost me.”
“Asshole. Then you’re the only person on the planet who hasn’t watched Legends of BattleLore yet.”
“Yeah, don’t I know? April can’t stop talking about it. I haven’t told her Rowan McCrae’s in town because I’m afraid she’ll trample me on her way to meet Sir…Aldric Dude or whatever.”
“I shouldn’t have called you.”
“I’m exactly who you needed to call, brother. So why’d you buy this dress for King?”
Ben paused. “I saw Charlie touch it right before she went into the costume shop across from my forge. Just for a second, but...” He trailed off.
“But you saw something,” Shane said evenly.
“Yeah. Like…”
Like she wanted to be a princess. Ben didn’t dare betray Charlie and tell Shane that. He remembered Charlie swearing him to secrecy over her arachnophobia. How much worse would this be?
“…like she wanted it or something.”
“You sure about that? King’s not much into dresses.”
Are you sure she’s not? he wanted to ask. But maybe Shane was right. He knew Charlie much better than Ben did.
“Rowan keeps calling her Sir Mariel,” he said half to himself.
“Again, Moose, I’m not the nerd you are and you’ve lost me.”
“She’s another character in the book.” Ben blew out a breath. “Never mind. It was a stupid idea. Maybe Della will take it back—”
“Dammit, Ben. You’re the smartest dumbass I know. Shane’s voice held equal parts pride and frustration. “You’re really doing this, you’re finally making a move and now you’re doubting yourself? Did you call me for advice or to talk you out of it?”
“I don’t know. It’s weird, right? Men are supposed to start with candy and flowers, not dresses—”
“Dude, stop.” Shane’s voice went firm. “First off, Charlie’s not going to think it’s weird. She’s going to think it’s thoughtful. Which it is.”
“But—”
“Moose. Listen to me. Ever since we were all kids, how many times have you saved our asses?”
Ben barked out a laugh. “More times than I can count. What does that have to do with anything?”
“Everything, brother. Back in high school, you kept Elias and Waylon from a life of crime, or at least dumb-assery.”
Ben laughed. Yeah, maybe he did.
Shane went on. “You pulled Gabe out of his funk when he came back to Lyons. He’d probably still be sitting at home alone feeling sorry for himself if you hadn’t reached out to him.”
“He would’ve sorted himself out without me.”
“That’s bullshit. And if you wanna go way back, I remember you beating the shit out of those little assholes who picked on Bear in middle school.”
Ben smirked. It was hard to believe Bear had once been a scrawny little kid who couldn’t defend himself.
“He saved me as much as I saved him back then. You all did. You were the only ones who didn’t think I was a d-damned idiot.
” Bitterness had crept into his voice, remembering how cruel the other kids had been, making fun of his stutter and calling him stupid.
Shane ignored him. “And brother, you helped me out the most. If it weren’t for you…that day April left…”
“You couldn’t help that, Shane.”
“Look, what I’m trying to say is, you’ve always been our voice of reason.
You’re the smartest out of all of us. You see things the rest of us miss.
So with King, you saw something real when she touched that dress.
You paid attention to what she wanted—something that in a million years would’ve never crossed my mind, and I’ve known her a lot longer than you have.
So, you not only recognizing that, but giving it to her?
That’s you seeing her. Really seeing her. ”
Ben was quiet, turning Shane’s words over.
Not just the warrior—the princess too.
“And she’s going to appreciate it,” Shane continued. “I don’t have to tell you she doesn’t give anything away about herself. She doesn’t let a lot of people in. But she’ll let you in, Ben. You do this, and she’ll have no choice.”
“I don’t want her to feel obligated—”
Shane laughed. “Shit, Moose. Sometimes you’re too smart for your own good.
You remember what you told me? Back when I was dancing around April?
You told me to stop overthinking it. Right now, you are overthinking the hell out of this.
You told me to just show up. So show up, brother. Give her the dress. See what happens.”
“And if she hates it?”
Shane sighed, exasperated. “Then at least you tried.” Shane’s tone softened. “But I’ve seen the way she looks at you, Ben. When you’re not watching. She’s interested. She’s just waiting for you to make a move.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. King’s one of the toughest people I’ve ever met. But around you? She softens. She smiles.” Shane paused. “Now all you have to do is loosen up around her.”
Ben scoffed. “Easier said than done.”
“That’s the other thing I’ve never understood about you, Moose. You’ve got all the confidence in the world except when it comes to women. Even when you scored at the bar and took someone home, you always talked yourself out of thinking it could turn into more.”
“Keep telling yourself you don’t notice things, Elk.”
Shane laughed, then grew serious again. “Look. You two would be good together. You both love those fantasy books, you’re both uber-nerds, and you are about to give her something that will make her little nerd heart go pitter-patter. She’s going to love it.”
Ben couldn’t help but grin. “Maybe.”
“Maybe nothing. Stop second-guessing yourself, dumbass.”
As Ben laughed, he felt something in his chest unclench. “Thanks, brother.”
“Anytime. Now go give her that dress.”
“Hang on. How do you know I’m seeing her today?”
“I know because I already talked to King about you, among other things.”
Ben almost dropped his phone. “You what? So you already knew everything when I called.”
“I did. Ain’t I a stinker?”
“You suck. So why’d you talk to her?”
Shane laughed. “We do work together, remember? I was at her debriefing about what went down on Saturday. She spoke highly of how you helped with getting her principal to safety. Highly. You hear what I’m saying?”
Ben’s heart sped up. “Yeah.”
“You better. Like I said, Moose—you two are adults and it’s up to you to work your shit out.”
“I hate it when you’re right, Elk.”
“It’s for the record books, I know. And Moose?”
“Yeah?”
“When she says yes to going out with you—and she will—don’t make me regret giving you this pep talk by chickening out again.”
Ben grinned despite himself. “Deal.”
He looked toward the dress bag. The morning light spilled through the doorway, catching the faint glint of the zipper. He should leave it alone. Let it hang there, like a secret he’d keep forever.
But the thought of Charlie’s face when she saw it—surprise first, then that reluctant, wary smile she tried to hide—that was worth every risk.
He rinsed the mug, set it in the sink, and reached for his jacket.
“Warrior Princess,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”