Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
ISABELLE
My stomach growled. Again. The food I’d travelled with had all disappeared over the course of yesterday afternoon and this morning, while I avoided rejoining the men downstairs. The dynamic overwhelming between Ben’s visible discomfort and Alex’s evident displeasure.
Sipping at more water I waited. The sounds of movement through the house had been endless, the opening and closing of the bathroom door.
Soft voices carried upstairs from the open-plan living area, chatting, and every now and then the echo of laughter.
They were all much more relaxed in my absence, and why wouldn’t they be, I was an absolute stranger.
As the reverberation of male voices slowed, I sat up, with entirely nothing to do here I was planning on seeking out some books, some food, but only when they were all out, or away. Whenever. Just when it was quiet.
Legs crossed I listened, a door had definitely slammed to downstairs, silence falling through the property.
“Wake up, wake up!” A jovial voice called through my door, rapping lightly.
Bugger.
“Come on, Killer. You can’t seriously still be asleep?” He was almost singing through the door.
“I’m not asleep!” I called out before I could stop myself. That man had a way of coaxing communication from me and it had me frowning.
There was no warning before the door swung inwards, Seb wandering inside.
He looked the epitome of relaxation. Faded black jeans sitting loosely on his hips and a thoroughly well-worn band tee which sat unfairly tight around the muscles of his upper body, the cotton looking soft. He was well and truly at home here.
“It’s impolite to enter a woman’s bedroom without permission.” I could feel the scowl that was etched into my features. Fair given that he’d scuppered my plan to slip around the house without interaction today, and maybe forever.
“But you’re presentable?” He propped himself against the door frame.
“I may not have been.”
“More’s the pity, huh?”
My eyes widened as his dimples popped with a rakish grin.
“Do you speak to everyone this way, or just women?” I turned to allow my legs to hang over the side of the bed, the frame so tall and mattress so deep they didn’t reach the floor. I felt small.
“I’ve developed a fantastic bedside manner through my career to date, I know.” He strolled inside, collapsing on the end of the bed, knee cocked, facing my side profile so I mirrored him.
“Come and save me.”
I arched a brow at him, fighting a smile at his pout.
“From the brief time I’ve known you, I doubt you’ve needed saving in your life.”
“Incorrect.” He leaned towards me. “Alex is in one of his moods, and Benji is in the barn.”
“And you need saving why?”
“Because I’m feeling horribly neglected, and I was going to make us all lunch, and…” He chewed his lip, puzzling. “I’m bored.”
My hand rose to toy with my forehead, half in mock-exhaustion at his over-familiarity and faux complaints, but the other half to hide the damned smile he was coaxing.
“I’m not sure.”
He waited.
“I won’t exactly improve Alex’s mood. And Ben, well he’s…” I tried to pick my words carefully; Seb and Ben were clearly extremely close. “Uncomfortable around me.”
Seb looked surprised but schooled his features slowly.
“Alex is in his office, so that’s one down, and Ben isn’t uncomfortable around you, he’s just…” Another pause followed. “Figuring it out.”
“Figuring it out?”
“Correct.”
“That was a question, Seb.”
“One you might have an answer to if you help me make lunch, Killer.” He stood. “Aren’t you warm in that?”
My jumper was indeed too thick for the extremely warm house, leggings too, but I had only vest tops, and the other t-shirt I had was filthy from my journey here. So, I shrugged.
“Hmm,” he grumbled. “Well, up we get then, either come down with me or I can stay with you, in bed.”
I shot up and followed him from the room, his laughter echoing in the hallway.
True to his word, Alex was tucked away in the room that was his office, and Ben was nowhere to be seen.
Seb began giving instructions, pasta in the pantry, beside the dining room, which it turned out they had as well as the large kitchen eating area, veggies in the fridge, plates bottom right, knives behind the corner doors, out of sight.
Slowly, we began making pasta which turned into a pasta salad.
Seb had turned the radio on and was singing softly to the rock music that played, offering titbits of conversation or pop-culture facts.
I marvelled at his casual ease, the charm and cheek slowing while he focused on whatever he was doing.
The movement quickly warmed my body further, and I forced the sleeves of the offending jumper further up my arms to try to get some air to my body, I could feel my face reddening from the warmth.
“Take it off,” he murmured as he twisted past me to grab a colander, the steam from the stove not helping my situation at all.
“That’s extremely forward,” I muttered.
“I know.” His voice breezed past my ear where he stood closely behind me, making me jump and pulling a loud laugh from him.
“Jesus, Seb!” I paused. Cursing at my family home was frowned upon. Taking the Lord’s name? Well, Christianity ran strong in the country.
“He doesn’t mind.” He was chuckling.
I thawed fractionally.
“You’re too hot,” he continued.
I whipped to face him and he laughed harder.
“Well, that too, obviously.” He indicated my body, from head to toe. “But you’re also overheating.” A spatula was pointed towards my now beetroot cheeks.
I simply muttered an acknowledgement until he dropped the implement onto the counter.
“So, what is the issue here?” The way he appraised me had me shifting. “Either we have nothing else to wear, or we aren’t comfortable in what we do have.”
I huffed, grabbing the veggies and placing them into a bowl.
He fell back into sync, draining the pasta and shaking it, slowly, not looking at me and I assumed, incorrectly, that he had dropped it.
“Do we need to borrow a t-shirt?” He kept his eyes on the task, allowing me the concession of thinking it over.
“Thank you, but I’m fine.”
“So, it’s a discomfort issue. Want to talk about it?” The pasta was poured into the bowl I’d prepared and I stepped back, happy to let him finish it off.
“No, thank you.” I placed the plates onto the table, turning to find Seb watching me, all jokes wiped from his face, his gaze rolled over me again and I blushed.
My body confidence was never high, but not this low. Something about my circumstances. This environment. Right now, I needed to be wrapped up.
The door opening broke the silence between us and Ben joined the hushed watching, his observation flitting between Seb and me. Discomfort turned over in my stomach and I frowned, the action breaking the spell.
“Lunch is ready!” The call was for Alex’s benefit and I steeled myself when the study door creaked open and he slipped out. The man could express his grump through his stomping, even bare-footed.
Ben placed himself at the chair at the furthest end of the table and I mirrored him, again.
The light tint of his glasses didn’t hide the way his eyes crinkled with the lightest of smiles, and I relaxed a fraction.
The scrape of the bench, followed by the thud of Alex dropping onto it remedied that. Despite each man being imposing in height and build, Alex created a vacuum. It radiated from him, consuming the air.
Seb slid onto the bench opposite him; each one must have been made to fit at least three people but both men spanned the seat. Seb pulling closer to me, Alex closer to Ben.
The thought that the discomfort of both was directly attributed to me had me staring down at my plate, adjusting the cutlery.
A portion of food was ladled onto my setting before it was shared with the others. Cautiously, I began eating. This was why I wanted to stay in my room.
“Eli made it back to the group home okay,” Alex offered.
“I told you he would have been okay,” Seb replied.
I stared at my food like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.
“Well, if the storm hadn’t taken down the lines I would have known yesterday.” He sounded angry rather than relieved.
“You know they’re under-funded. I don’t know why you let it irk you so much. The place is a dump, the utilities are appalling, and they’ll never be anything but.”
Alex grumbled under his breath.
“Benji, how has your morning been?”
I waited for Ben’s reply but didn’t hear one, finally I looked up catching the back end of a small shrug.
“I take that to mean perfectly fine?”
“I managed what I set out to,” he offered as a concession. “You managed to get Izzy out of her room.”
Ben was big on observations it seemed.
“She’s responsible for our lunch.”
I raised a brow at him; I absolutely was not.
“Sous-chef at best,” I muttered, returning my attention downward. I could feel Seb’s pleasure in having dragged me into the conversation.
“Thank you, Izzy. It’s very nice.”
I took in Ben, his face was open, earnest.
“Do you have a clotheshorse I can use?” I dug up the courage to ask. The need wouldn’t change, only my smell would.
“There’s a washer-dryer.” Seb pointed his fork to the boot room.
“Oh, no, I don’t need to use your machine, I can hand wash my stuff.” I couldn’t stop myself from eating their food, at some point I’d need to use other items, but I drew the line at using their house like a hotel. I’d hand wash my belongings while I showered.
Alex scoffed and I bristled.
“I’m running a load later, my clothes got wet and dirty from rolling in the snow yesterday.” Seb successfully cut through my frown at the reminder I’d launched him the day before and I bit my cheek to stop a smile.
“I can wash our smalls together.”
I audibly sighed at that.
“Is there anyone you don’t flirt with?” Alex growled.
“You?” Seb’s reply was instant and a laugh burst past my lips as Ben openly smirked opposite me, his light eyes dancing at the joke at his brother’s expense.
“Something I’m thankful for every single day.”
Alex stabbed the pasta slightly too hard, the fork clanking against the plate.
Ben stood quickly, collecting his now empty plate and turning his attention to cleaning up, diligently tidying the surface while the other men ate in silence. My plate finished, I sat quietly, until finally everyone had also eaten.
By that point the surfaces were spotless and Ben had taken up residence at the sink. Alex rose and the bench slid backwards, the screech making me shudder. He approached the sink, Ben allowing him to slip the plate into the water, a quiet word exchanged and he left.
Seb then followed, collecting the rest of the items on the table and sliding the plates into the bowl of soapy water. I heard his thanks and Ben’s reply that he needn’t thank him, Seb’s charm softening into a sincere smile.
I stood, approaching as Seb shifted away.
I stopped short, at the distance I was coming to realise was the closest Ben could accommodate.
One that meant we could reach out fully and not really come into contact with one another.
A comfortable distance because it was his preference, or because he couldn’t interact with me in such a way from any greater distance, I didn’t know.
He paused what he was doing, shaking off his hands and dabbing them carefully on a cloth by the sink before he turned, fully, to face me, giving me his full attention.
The corner of his lip quirked and he extended his arm, I mirrored him, passing my plate.
“Thank you, Ben.” He took it from my hold.
He tilted his head, looking at my feet and the distance between us. “Thank you, Izzy.”