Chapter Seven
Ben drove his Tahoe where Charlotte instructed him before she fell asleep.
He drove to the end of the driveway at the address she’d given him.
Switching off the engine, he shifted in his seat to study his passenger.
Her head rested against the headrest, facing him.
Soft snores punctuated her breathing. Her bandaged hand rested in her lap while the other was trapped between her body and the seat.
Her blond hair fell in a curtain to shield her face.
He gave into the temptation to lightly push the tendrils back over her shoulder, noting how silky the strands felt against his fingers.
Her inky lashes brushed against her cheeks, creating an oddly fascinating contrast. Her lips were slightly parted and glistened as if her tongue had just swiped over them.
Something stirred within his chest, and he chalked it up to relief that she was no longer in pain.
He hadn’t joined her in the exam room out of respect for her privacy, but she’d given the doctor permission to update him on her care.
The cut stretched along her joint deep enough to require two layers of stitches to seal the wound and restrict movement.
The doctor had ordered something to manage her pain while they applied her stitches, but with the injury to her dominant hand, she would have a difficult time with everyday activities.
She had wanted to retrieve her car and drive herself home after the doctor released her, but Ben insisted on taking her home. He suspected she was still under the influence of the pain meds since she didn’t offer much of a protest. Now that they were here, he loathed to wake her.
Through the windshield, he eyed the steps leading up to her garage apartment. They were wide and evenly spaced, so he could carry her. She would hate it, but he rather liked the idea. He would have to somehow get the key from her though, and he wasn’t sure he could do that without waking her.
As he contemplated his next move, he noticed someone stepping from the house. With one more glance to ensure Charlotte was still asleep, he quietly opened the door and stepped out.
“Hello,” he greeted.
The woman eyed him critically behind the large lenses of her glasses.
If she measured over five feet tall, Ben would be surprised.
She carried herself with a careful elegance like a woman who only moved when it was necessary.
Her dark gray hair framed her round, wrinkled face, but her bright blue eyes were sharp as they regarded him.
“How is she?”
Ben glanced at Charlotte before eyeing the woman again. “You know what happened?”
“Wally called. I’m Birdie Miller. She rents the apartment from me.”
“Nice to meet you, Ms. Miller. My name is Ben Weston. I met Charlotte at the—”
“Motel,” Birdie finished for him. “Most men wouldn’t help the woman who gave him two black eyes and a broken nose.”
Ben smiled. “I’m not like most people.”
“We’ll see.”
Ben wasn’t sure what the hidden meaning was behind her words, but he decided not to concern himself with it. He walked around the front of his SUV and stopped, his hands settling on his hips.
“The cut was deep enough for her to need two layers of stitches. The inner layer will dissolve on its own. She has to keep the outer layer dry for the next forty-eight hours, and then she has care instructions to keep it clean and treated with ointment. The biggest concern is infection, so she’ll have to be careful until she goes back to the doctor to have the outer layer of stitches removed.
They gave her something for pain while she was at the clinic, but she can manage with over-the-counter meds from now on.
She was pretty tired when it was all said and done and fell asleep on the way home. ”
Birdie nodded as if none of the information was a surprise.
The woman watched him with an assessing stare, and Ben had an odd sensation that she knew everything about him, including the truth about his identity.
There was no way she could know that, but Ben decided Birdie Miller was someone he had to be very careful around.
“I was about to help her get settled in her apartment,” Ben added.
“Bring her in here for now. I’ll watch over her while she rests, and then she can go to the apartment when she’s ready.”
Birdie turned and shuffled back inside the house, leaving the door wide open. Ben wasn’t sure whether to laugh or run screaming from the odd woman, but since caring for Charlotte was his priority, the choice was taken out of his hands.
Charlotte stirred when he opened the passenger door. She turned groggy eyes to meet his, and he felt the power of those unusual eyes punch him in the gut. He waited until the remnants of sleep fell away, and she sat up straighter, wincing when she moved her injured hand.
“Hey. You’re home, but Ms. Miller wants you to come inside her house. I think she wants to be nearby, so she can help you with anything while you rest some more.”
Charlotte grimaced. “I’m surrounded by a bunch of mother hens.”
He grinned. “I don’t know. It’s kind of nice to know you have so many people who care about you.”
She sighed. “It is. Don't get me wrong. I love them all. They’ve been very good to me since I moved here, but it does feel like my life is not my own sometimes.”
Ben understood the sentiment all too well, but he kept that tidbit to himself. “I was going to carry you inside, but since you’re awake, I’ll give you the option of walking or being carried inside like a princess.”
Her look of horror made him laugh. “I’m capable of walking, thank you.”
He stepped back and held out a hand to help her step down from the Tahoe. She slipped her tiny palm in his but pulled back at the last minute.
“Before we go inside, I wanted to say something. I do appreciate your help today, but the kiss...”
Her voice trailed off, and he could imagine where the conversation was going. He wasn’t going to make it easy for her, so he waited. She cleared her throat and started again.
“I get you did it to get me to stop arguing, but—”
“That’s not why I kissed you. Well, not the only reason.”
Her shocked expression gave him some satisfaction. He pegged Charlotte as someone who needed to be in control of her circumstances. Being with her all morning gave him a glimpse into what she was like when she let down her guard. She was more approachable and receptive.
“I don’t understand. You said—”
“That I kissed you, so you’d stop talking. What I didn’t say was that I’ve been wanting to kiss you since we had dinner with Wally and Mona. I figured it would be one hell of a kiss, and for me, it was.”
The smoky irises of her eyes shifted from a steely gray to a deeper blue. Her breath hitched, and the pulse in her throat quickened. Hunger pooled in his belly, and he was sure the responding smile curling his lips held a hint of the predatory feeling he was experiencing.
“Ben, I don’t...I mean, it’s not a good idea...It’s...”
The way she stumbled over her words reminded Ben he was being unfair, laying his intentions out there the way he was after the day she’d had. He didn't regret telling her, even if it did throw her for a loop.
He liked Charlotte. A lot. He wasn’t in Ivy Springs to start something with a woman, but after hearing her painful cry that morning and seeing her hold onto her inner strength despite her hurt, he couldn’t stay away from her.
He barely knew her, suspected she held many secrets she may never trust him with.
But tasting her lips, seeing her smile, and feeling her eyes on him were enough. For now.
“I won’t kiss you again.”
Her head whipped up, her lips parting in a silent oh.
“You won’t?”
He couldn’t tell if she was relieved or disappointed, and he guessed she wasn’t sure either. He leaned in until their breaths mingled in the air.
“I won’t. Unless you ask me to. And Charlotte?”
“Yeah?”
The one word was breathless, and Ben had a sudden image of her in his arms, in his bed, lost in the throes of passion, struggling to catch her breath amid the delicious sensations she would feel when his hands and his lips explored every inch of her.
His cock stirred behind his zipper, but he ignored it for now. His focus was all on her.
“Make no mistake, sweetheart. I want you to ask me to. Sooner rather than later.”
Ben enjoyed watching the play of emotions across her face. He pulled back to give her some breathing room and reached out his hand.
“We’d better get inside before Ms. Miller comes looking for us.”
Charlotte visibly swallowed. “She’s been watching us. She can stand at her kitchen window and see everything on this side of the house.”
Ben chuckled, not at all surprised at that bit of news. “I get the impression she doesn’t like me, or at the very least doesn’t trust me.”
“She doesn’t.” Charlotte took his hand and slid down from the seat. “She doesn’t trust anyone, and she starts out hating everyone until they prove they’re worthy of being liked.”
He stepped back a bit, and she followed. Once she was clear of the door, he pushed it closed and tucked her hand under his arm.
“She likes you, though, right?”
Charlotte nodded and chuckled. “Yes. It took a few months to win her over, but we’re friends now. Sometimes she feels more like a mother than a friend, but — and don’t tell her I said this — I don’t mind. She’s a tough nut to crack, but she’s a good one to have in your corner.”
“Any advice on winning her over?”
She glanced at him with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Nope. You’re on your own.”
“Well, considering how much she cares for you, she has to be someone special. I look forward to getting in her good graces.”
“You’re planning to be in town a while?”
He was sure she meant it as a joke. “You saying it’ll take a while to befriend her?”
“It might. With Ms. Miller, you never know.”
He returned her smile. “I’m planning to be in town for as long as it takes.”
“As long as it takes for what?”
“As long as it takes to find what I’m looking for.”
He squeezed the hand snaked around his arm and led her to the open door.