29. Ben #3
The ride back to the inn, Holly hummed softly in the passenger seat.
“What a night,” she said, rolling down the car window.
They passed through quiet neighborhoods in the charming little grid behind Main, and up toward Shore Road.
At the crest, they rolled to a stop at the sign, and the sky stretched out before them.
A full moon had risen, and it spilled onto Chatham Harbor, tinging all the fishing boats in gold.
“Holls,” Ben said, nudging her gently. “Look at that.”
Holly was sound asleep. Ben drove home extra slow, so as not to disturb her.
When he pulled into the horseshoe drive, he cut the engine and looked over at her.
There was the same ski slope nose that used to burn every summer, but gone was any other evidence of the scrappy little girl he’d chased down the beach.
The woman in his passenger seat was luminous, from the graceful curve of her neck to the full lips that still spouted sass when she felt like it. “Rise and shine,” he whispered.
Holly stirred and blinked. “Oh gosh. I’m home already?”
“You are, Cinderella.”
She smiled. “Thank you for tonight.”
“The pleasure was mine.” Ben hurried around the side of the car to get her door. When he helped her out, Holly wobbled. “Let me walk you in.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said, taking a lurching step toward the porch.
He grabbed her hand, steadying her just in time.
“Maybe that’s not such a bad idea,” she whispered.
When they got through the front door it was clear he couldn’t send her upstairs on her own. “Mind if I walk you to your room?”
Holly giggled. “Let’s see if you remember where it is.” Before he could stop her, she took off, impressively quick for her condition. Ben chased after her.
Laughing, she headed to the back of the inn, to the servants’ stairs that led up to the residence. Ben followed, arms out just in case. At the top of the landing, she fumbled with the door and he helped her.
The residence had changed little, and stepping inside was like stepping back in time. Holly dumped her purse on the couch and kicked off her shoes, wobbling precariously.
“Easy, tiger,” he said, which only made her laugh. “I’ll get you a glass of water before I go,” he told her.
He waited while she brushed her teeth and washed up. When she came out she was dressed in a pj set, the shirt on backward.
“Tuck me in?”
Ben set the water and two Advil he’d found in the kitchen on her bedside table. He pulled the covers back as she climbed in. “Good night, Holls,” he told her, reaching to turn out the light.
“Promise you’ll signal to me when you get home?” she slurred. Her eyes were already fluttering.
Ben knew what she meant. He looked across the bay, out her window, in the direction of his parents’ house. “Promise.”
When he bent to kiss her forehead goodnight, Holly wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was warm and sweet and full, and Ben found himself stirred to excitement. But she’d had too much to drink. He pulled away.
“Please,” Holly murmured, reaching for his hand. “Just one more kiss.”
Reluctantly, Ben kissed her. Again she pulled him in. They pressed together in her single bed, arms wrapped around one another, mouths fervent.
When things intensified, Ben sat up. “No, Holls. Not like this.”
“But I don’t want you to go.”
God, neither did he, but he couldn’t let things go further, either.
“Please stay,” she said, resting her palm against his cheek.
“Fine, I’ll sleep on the floor.”
He gathered a blanket from the foot of her bed and stretched out on the carpet beside her. Once she peeked over the side of the bed, like a child, to check he was still there. Satisfied, she lay back down. Soon a gentle snore came from above.
For a long time Ben lay awake, the moonlight spilling in gentle beams across her room. He was here, in some ways right back where he started. And there was nowhere else he would rather be.
In the morning, Ben awoke to the smell of coffee brewing. He rolled over. Holly’s bed was empty. When he checked his phone, it was already seven-thirty. He needed to get up and go. There was so much to do that day.
The door creaked. Holly stood in the doorway, holding a mug of coffee. She set it on the bedside table. “Still take it with cream and extra sugar?”
He nodded.
“You were a gentleman last night. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. But I really should get going.”
Holly lowered herself onto the floor beside him.
“I’ve got work,” he added. Her hair was tousled from sleep, and a blond strand fell lazily across her eye. He reached up and tucked it behind her ear.
“Me, too. Busy day.” She lay down beside him.
Ben rolled over to face her. They were nose to nose, her eyes bright and expectant.
This time when Holly kissed him, he let her.
He let her slip beneath the blanket and press her body up against him.
When she kissed the side of his face, down his neck, across his chest, Ben groaned.
As the sun rose over the bay, this time Ben gave in.