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Ben disagrees.
“Yeah, it was supposed to go to the oldest son. I wanted something else, though. Obviously,” he says, waving a hand down the stairs toward me, indicating his shop. I remember him mentioning it the other night. But I also remember thinking there was more to the story. More that my nosy ass wanted to know about.
“A tattoo shop is pretty far from a construction company,” I say. He tips his head to the popcorn ceiling and fluorescent lighting that lines the center hallway, exasperated with me. It's a look I’ve seen from him often, but this time it’s almost . . . endearing, a smile tipping up his lips.
“Yeah, babe. It’s different. Do you mind letting me finish this so I can get to my real job?” For a split second, I feel guilty. He’s doing this in his free time when he could be working or relaxing or sleeping or . . . whatever.
But then I remember he’s the one who broke the door, and it’s the least the man can do.
“Can you tell me the story later?”
“What?”
“The story about you and not following in your dad’s footsteps. The first son shit. Why did your brother get the company? Did you want it? Did you have a choice? Was your dad mean? Do you like your brother? How—” Ben laughs, still holding that drill and propping the door against the frame.
“Jesus, babe. Calm down. How about we make a deal?”
It’s kind of strange, this conversation happening up a flight of stairs, so I start walking up them, nearing where he stands at the top.
“What kind of deal?” I ask when I’m halfway up. Ben puts down the drill and moves the door until it’s steady with no risk of falling. When I reach the top of the landing, his thick arm wraps around my waist and pulls me to him.
That comfort takes over me.
That feeling that I don’t have to do it all, carry it all by myself.
This relationship—or whatever it is—-is new and confusing and so fucking messy, but whatever it is, my body likes it.
My soul likes it.
Both feel happy and warm when I’m here, in his arms.
My head tips back to look up at him, though the distance isn’t huge.
He smiles at me.
“Here’s the deal.”
“Okay,” I whisper, not knowing what the deal is, but if it includes being held by Ben, being in his arms, having that rare smile shine down on me, then I’m game.
He laughs, and it rumbles through me.
“I didn't tell you the deal yet, sweet girl.” I smile back. I could be embarrassed. And maybe I should be. But I just smile instead.
“Oh.” He shakes his head in that way he does, which means he thinks I’m a nut.
“Tonight. After my last client, we go upstairs together. You come over and hang with Hat and me while you wait. You will not be going upstairs alone, not until I’m sure everything is good.” I start to object, to roll my eyes or fight him, even if I’m sure if I look through unfazed lenses, all I’ll see is a normal request.
“Uh uh. You’re doing that part no matter what. But if you’re a good girl and do what I say, I’ll make it worth your time.” I quirk an eyebrow, a chill running through me.
“Oh?”
“Oh, I’ll take care of you in that way too. But I mean, if you do what I ask, when we get upstairs, I’ll tell you whatever you want. My brother, the company, my dad. It’s not juicy, but I’ll tell you because you’re nosy and it’s gonna eat at you. Plus, if I don’t tell you, you’ll probably ask Hat, and she’ll run you some crazy embellished version that is not even close to reality.” My gut clenches, knowing instinctively what’s coming next.
“And?”
“And you’ll tell me about the trouble you’ve gotten yourself into.” I take a deep breath, my chest moving against his.
“Ben—”
