Chapter 12
TWELVE
The restaurant was even nicer than Charlie expected—white tablecloths, candlelight, soft music playing in the background.
She felt suddenly, acutely aware of her tactical pants and the ponytail she'd hastily redone in the bathroom mirror. She wished she’d at least brought along some mascara and made a mental note to add it to her go-bag.
And yet, Ben looked at her like she was…well, a princess.
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as Ben held the restaurant door for her, and again when he pulled out her chair before she could even think to sit down. The gesture made her chest go warm.
“Thank you,” she said, settling into the seat.
“Of course.” Ben took the chair across from her, looking equally out of place in his flannel and cargo pants. But that quiet confidence he showed the ma?tre d' made it work.
Their server appeared with menus and water glasses. Charlie opened hers and tried to focus on the words instead of the fact that she was on a date—an actual date—with Ben Massey.
“The ribeye's good here,” Ben offered. “If you like steak.”
“Are you kidding? I love steak. Who doesn’t?” Charlie looked up from the menu. “You've been here before?”
“A few times. Shane’s dragged us all out here a couple of times for special occasions.” Ben's mouth quirked. “It beats Cocktails and Chicken Strips.”
“Oh, yeah, I actually love Cocks and Strippers,” she said without thinking, just as their server passed their table of course. He nearly dropped his water pitcher. Charlie slapped her hand over her mouth as her eyes bugged out.
Ben laughed, deep and low. He picked up his water glass.
“I would crawl under the table right now but the server might get the wrong idea,” Charlie practically squeaked.
Ben’s face turned bright red as he nearly spit his water out.
“Oh, God, I’m making a mess of this. You’re never going to want to be seen in public with me again.”
“Oh, quite the contrary. I haven’t had this much fun in a while.”
Charlie laughed, and some of the tension eased from her shoulders.
They ordered—ribeye for both of them, medium-rare—from a different server. Suddenly it was just the two of them, candlelight flickering between them, and Charlie's brain went blank.
Say something. Anything. Well, maybe not anything because see how that turned out?
“So,” Ben said at the same time she started, “How—”
They both stopped. Ben chuckled again.
“You first,” Charlie said.
“I was just going to ask how you ended up in Colorado. I mean, I know Shane recruited you, but that's a big move from the coast.”
Charlie nodded, grateful for a normal question. “I’m actually from central Ohio. Nowhere near the ocean, or even Erie.”
“Really? Where?”
Charlie hesitated. She never talked about herself like this. But Ben put her at ease. His questions didn’t feel like an interrogation. “Believe it or not, I grew up near a place called Dead Man Crossing, just outside of Chillicothe.”
His eyebrows rose, but not in judgement. More like curiosity. “Wow. Sounds like a haunted place.”
It is, but not for the reasons you think.
“A man named James Caldwell was killed in the eighteen-eighties in a railway accident. That’s about all I know, except for the ghost stories of course.
Weird lights, a man who calls for help then disappears.
Typical urban legends.” She grinned, trying to turn the subject back around.
“I’m sure you know plenty of ghost stories about lost miners and pioneers in the mountains. ”
“Yeah, one or two.” Ben grinned. “Arden ever tell you about Nancy Silks?”
“You mean her great-great-great grandmother who haunts the ranch? No, she hasn’t.” Charlie gave Ben a soft smile. “But Sean did.”
Ben's expression shifted—pain and understanding. They both missed their friend. He reached across the table and placed his hand over hers. Charlie marveled at how small her hand looked compared to his. Almost…dainty.
“On the boat, he talked about Lyons and the St. Vrain. He loved that river. I guess I wanted to see it for myself.”
And you. I wanted to see you for myself.
Ben's thumb traced small circles on the back of her hand. Charlie took a breath and looked at Ben through her lashes. She turned her hand over so their palms pressed together.
Their food arrived then, breaking the moment. Without meaning to, Charlie pulled her hand away quickly, but Ben didn’t seem to take offense. The server set down two enormous steaks with loaded baked potatoes and grilled asparagus. Charlie's stomach growled again.
She caught Ben's eyes on her as she cut into her steak, and for half a second she wondered if he'd prefer a woman who ordered salad and picked at it delicately. But then she thought, screw it, I'm hungry, and took a proper bite.
The steak was perfect—seared on the outside, pink and juicy in the middle. Charlie let out an involuntary sound of appreciation.
When she looked up, Ben was grinning at her.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.” But his eyes were warm, pleased. “Just good to see you enjoying it.”
“Are you kidding? This is amazing.” Charlie cut another piece. “On assignment like this I usually live on protein bars.”
“Then I'm glad we're fixing that.”
They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Charlie found herself relaxing into it—the easy rhythm of the meal, the way Ben didn't seem to need to fill every silence with conversation. He just... was. Present. Comfortable in his own skin in a way that made her want to be comfortable in hers.
“Can I ask you something?” Ben said eventually.
“Sure.”
“The drawing thing. How long have you been doing that?”
Charlie swallowed her bite of potato. “Since I was a kid, I guess. But I got serious about it in the military. You know how it is. I needed something to do with my hands during down time. Considering we were in different parts of the world I’d probably never see again—some of them I’m glad I’ll never see again.
” She added that last part ruefully. “I wanted to capture them. I took photos for a while, but that sort of thing can get you in trouble, right?”
Ben nodded knowingly.
“So I picked up a sketchbook and some pencils instead.” She paused. “Why?”
“Just curious. You mentioned it earlier—about wanting to draw Loveland Pass. I liked seeing that side of you.”
Charlie shrugged. “I think it's kind of silly. A bodyguard who sketches.”
“I don't think it's silly at all.” Ben's gaze was steady. “I'm a former Ranger and a blacksmith who reads fantasy novels and makes medieval armor. I don't get to judge anyone's hobbies.”
Charlie felt herself smiling. “Fair point.”
“Besides,” Ben continued, “I meant what I said earlier. About bringing you back up there to draw. Whenever you want.”
“You really mean that?”
“Yeah.” He held her eyes. “I know all the best spots. Good light, good angles. And I promise I won't hover. I'll just... keep you company. If you want.”
Charlie's heart did something inconvenient in her chest. “I'd like that. A lot.”
Ben's answering smile made her forget about her steak entirely.
They talked through the rest of dinner—about the mountains, about the Ren Faire, about books they'd both read. Charlie found herself laughing more than she had in months, found herself leaning forward across the table, found herself not wanting the meal to end.
When the server brought the check, Ben reached for it immediately.
“I’ll get it,” Charlie offered. “I have an expense account.”
“Not a chance.” Ben's voice was firm but gentle. “I asked you to dinner. I'm paying.”
“Ben—”
“Charlie.” He looked up at her. “Let me do this. Please.”
She could have argued. Probably should have, just on principle. But the way he was looking at her—like this mattered, like she mattered—made her relent.
“Okay,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
“Walk you home?” Ben said with a grin.
“I don’t know. It’s pretty far.” Charlie grinned back.
“I think I can manage it.”
They walked back through the lobby toward the elevators, not quite touching but close enough that Charlie could feel the warmth radiating off Ben's shoulder. When the elevator doors opened, they both stepped inside.
Ben pressed the button, then stepped back beside her. The doors slid shut, leaving them alone in the small space.
Charlie could feel her pulse in her throat. Ben was close enough that she could smell the faint scent of cedar and woodsmoke that seemed to cling to him. Close enough that if she turned slightly, they'd be face to face.
The elevator dinged and opened onto her floor.
The doors opened and Charlie stepped out, Ben following. They walked down the hallway toward her room in silence. The air felt charged. Every last cell in her body screamed for her to drag Ben into her hotel room and spend the rest of the night working off dinner.
Remember you’re on the job? This isn’t a hook-up.
“I should probably let Shane know I’m back.” She looked across the hall at his door. “I’ll text him when I get inside.”
Just then, her back spasmed and she hissed through her teeth.
“Charlie?” Ben was immediately on alert. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, nothing.” She rolled her shoulders, feeling the familiar ache settle between her shoulder blades.
The drive had been long, and sitting in one position for hours always made her back stiffen up.
“I’m just stiff. Spending years speeding across waves like speedbumps in a little boat out on the ocean takes a toll on your body.
” She twisted at the waist and her spine popped like gunfire.
“Do you have anything for it?”
“I have some muscle relaxants, but I don’t take them on the job. A couple ibuprofen and I’ll be fine.”
Ben shook his head. “That’s not good enough.”
Charlie tilted her head. “No?”
“No.” He lifted his chin at the door. “Let me help you.”
Charlie’s eyes widened.
“N-nothing like that, I p-promise.”
Charlie felt her breath speed up. “No, of course not.” She smiled and tapped her key card on the pad, then opened the door.