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“Did you see anyone else come down here?”
She shakes her head quickly. “No. Why?”
“No reason.” Just concussion-induced paranoia is all. “I just thought I heard something. But I’m sure it was nothing. Anyway—” I scoot by Penny and move out of the room, desperate to get back upstairs. “I couldn’t find it. I’ll go talk to Mrs. Plimpton and explain.”
Chapter 6
THEA
I’ve almost managed to put the basement incident out of my mind by the time Ben arrives for our date.
It helped that my day was so busy. After my brief bout of paranoia in the basement, I apologized to Mrs. Plimpton, who was surprisingly nice about it. She patted my arm and said, “It’s okay, Thea. On your first day back, I shouldn’t have asked.”
I guess walking around with a purple bruise on my forehead has some benefits.
The rest of the morning was a flurry of activity, followed by an afternoon of story times and events. By the time I got home from work I was ready for a nap, but there were much more important things to do. Like deep conditioning my hair and using two face masks and shaving every inch of my body—not that I think Ben is going to see most of those parts tonight, but still. Better safe than sorry.
But even after two cups of coffee, I’m dragging, and I hate that I’m not feeling my best for our date. All day I’ve been so excited to see Ben, to have an entire evening with him, and now I’m worried I may fall asleep over dinner.
No. I’ll get my second wind. Or my third. Or however many it takes to enjoy our date.
I glance in the mirror one last time as I head toward the door, feeling slightly gratified that although my face is an array of interesting colors, at least the rest of me looks good. My curls are behaving and I’m wearing my favorite sundress that Ari swears makes my breasts look bigger—I’m not sure about that—but I love how the color matches my eyes.
Ben is grinning at me as I open the door, his green eyes sparkling and crinkling up at the corners. “Thea.” He holds out another bouquet of flowers to me—this time an arrangement of white and yellow tulips. His gaze quickly moves up and down my body, darkening in appreciation. “You look beautiful.”
“Ben.” I beam at him. “You look great, too.”
It’s actually a massive understatement. His short-sleeved button-down exposes his muscled forearms and biceps, the fabric stretched just enough to hint at the strong planes of his shoulders and chest. Dark jeans accentuate his long legs, toned from the jogging he told me he does five days a week. And his hair looks sexy as usual, the dark brown glinting with bronze and copper, slightly messy as if he’s been running his hands through it.
Before I can say anything else, Ben wraps me in his arms and hugs me. His lips press against the top of my head, his breath soft as he says, “I missed you.”
I smile against his chest. “It’s only been one day since I saw you.”
“Maybe so.” He pulls back a little so he can look down at me. “But I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day.”
“Me too.” A yawn tries to force its way out but I stifle it, hoping Ben doesn’t notice.
His gaze sharpens, his brows come down in a V. “Let’s sit down for a minute.” Keeping one arm around me, he leads me over to the couch and sits down beside me. He turns toward me and cups my cheek gently. “Are you feeling alright?”
“Of course.” I widen my eyes, trying to look as alert as possible. “Why?”
“Because it’s six o’clock and you’re yawning.” His tone is gentle as he continues. “When you’re in pain, you get a little line right here—” He strokes his finger between my eyebrows. “And it was your first day back at work. So I want to make sure you’re feeling okay.”
“I’m fine,” I retort, somewhat defensively. “And I’m not tired. Or yawning.”
And of course, this would be the time a giant yawn nearly cracks my jaw. “Okay,” I amend. “One yawn. But I’ll have some coffee. I’m not canceling our date.”
Ben stares at me for a second, a small frown pulling at his lips. Disappointment seeps through me—now he’s going to insist on going home because he’s a good guy and a caretaker and I’m going to miss out on my date.
Instead, he says, “I have an idea. How about if we stay in tonight? We can order delivery and watch a movie and spend the evening here.”
“But what about our first real date?”
“This is a real date. We’re going to eat and talk and watch a movie. Just here, so you can get some rest. And then I’ll take you out for dinner later this week, when you’re not so tired. What do you think?”
I’m torn. Part of me stubbornly wants to insist on going out like we planned. I built up this date in my head and the idea of changing it makes me want to stomp my foot in dismay.
But then again, I am tired. And it’s not like I won’t be spending time with Ben. So I give him a little smile and squeeze his hand. “Okay.”
