Ryan stared at the closed door for a second, thinking about how symbolic it was: one door closing—a chapter ending—while Ben made her able to open another one. For the first time in a long time, Ryan had a future worth looking forward to. It was a feeling she could get used to.
Chapter Fifteen
After propping the pillows against the headboard, Ben stepped back from the bed and looked around the newly furnished spare room. He’d rented the apartment months ago and hadn’t even bothered to do anything with the second bedroom beyond pushing some boxes against the wall. But he couldn’t ask Ryan to sleep in a room without a bed.
He’d briefly thought about giving her his bed and telling her he’d sleep on the couch, but the thought of Ryan curled up and sleeping in his bed wearing God knows what would’ve had him wanting to climb in there with her. So he’d decided that now was as good a time as any to start decorating. And by decorating, he meant buying a queen bed, dresser, and end table. At the last second, he’d decided to top it off with a forty-seven-inch flat-screen, which he hoped would make the room appear more finished than it actually was. A big screen TV always made spaces better. At least to him.
A part of him wished he’d had more time to prepare for her arrival. But he only had himself to blame for that one. His offer to cohabitate had been blurted out so quickly that he didn’t have time to second-guess himself, let alone get ready to room with someone he had to pay to spend time with. What the fuck was he doing? At least they’d already worked out how much extra he’d pay her to live with him until the wedding and agreed that he’d tack it on to the total he still owed her. Handing her an envelope always felt awkward to him, and he wasn’t inclined to make this moment any more awkward than it already was. It also made him happy that she clearly trusted him enough to follow through with paying her. He wasn’t sure it made her the smartest businesswoman in the world, but if she was comfortable with how they were handling things, that was all that mattered to him.
His phone dinged with a text from Ryan, reminding him that whatever it was he was doing, he was doing it now. Apparently she’d just pulled up and was outside of his apartment building. He threw on socks and a pair of sneakers and was heading down the hall toward the elevators when one slid open.
“Hey,” he said when he saw Ryan stroll out casually. “I was on my way to come down.”
“No need,” she said. “The guy at the desk let me up when I told him I was here to see you. They might wanna step up the security in this place. How does he know I wasn’t coming up to rob you?” Ryan seemed to realize the implication of what she’d said and immediately added, “Not that I would.”
Ben chuckled. “I know. But don’t worry about security. I told them you’d be staying here and showed them a picture of you, so that’s probably how they recognized you. But since you’ll technically be considered a roommate, you’ll need to fill out some paperwork and show them an ID.” He reached out toward her bag. “Let me put this in my apartment and then we can get the forms taken care of and bring up the rest of your stuff.”
Ryan’s mouth opened hesitantly, making Ben feel a little guilty for dictating their immediate plans.
“Or we can fill out the papers later if you’d rather relax for now. Are your bags at the front desk? I can call down and have them brought up.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“It’s not a problem.”
“No. I mean you don’t need to do that because that’s all I have,” Ryan said, pointing to the duffel that she’d given Ben.
“Oh,” he said, surprised that she hadn’t brought more with her. When she’d agreed to move in with him, he’d figured that she wouldn’t be going back and forth between her place and his. But he didn’t want to push the issue, so he remained silent.
They stood awkwardly in the hallway as the elevator opened and closed without either of them getting on. Finally Ryan spoke, thankfully breaking the tension. “You hungry?” she asked.
“Starving, actually. I worked out a little while ago and haven’t eaten yet. By the way, you’re free to use the gym or any of the other amenities while you’re here.”
“Thanks,” Ryan said. “What else is there?”
“Rooftop deck with a hot tub and outdoor furniture and stuff, a Starbucks, pool, concierge. All the normal stuff.”
Ryan’s eyes widened, and it made Ben wonder what type of clients she’d had in the past. He didn’t expect her to seem so surprised when he’d mentioned all the perks that came with living in an upscale building like his. He’d assumed that a lot of the men she’d . . . spent time with would have been wealthy too, and that she’d experienced—or at least been exposed to—the type of lifestyle he led.
“So did you want to grab a bite to eat?” Ben asked. “There’s a great steakhouse only a half a block away. We can drop your stuff off inside my place, and I’ll call to let them know we’re coming.”
“That works. Whatever you’re in the mood for.”
Her words had him running his gaze along the length of her body—from her strappy sandals that laced around her ankles, up her smooth legs, to her jean shorts and halter top. He was certain from behind he’d be able to catch a glimpse of the bottom of her perfectly round ass as it peeked out through the edge of the fringed denim. Ryan began walking toward his apartment as soon as he made a move toward it. When they got to the door, he couldn’t resist. “Ladies first,” he said, extending his arm to hold the door open so she could step inside.
He had to smile as his eyes dropped shamelessly down to her ass to see if his prediction had been correct. Nostra-fucking-damus.
* * *
Once they’d entered Ben’s place, he showed her to her room—which was nicer than pretty much any place she’d ever stayed. She had her own private bathroom, complete with a Jacuzzi and heated floors. “This is amazing,” she said, unable to contain her excitement when she saw that the size of her closet rivaled most of the bedrooms she’d slept in. Though she wasn’t sure what she’d fill the space with since most of her possessions fit into the duffel bag she’d brought with her.
She’d never been one to purchase more than she needed. Especially when it came to clothing. She had all the staples: a few pairs of jeans and shorts, some classic solid shirts she could layer with a sweater when it got colder, and a couple of dresses and skirts. Though most of those were better suited for the inside of a strip club than . . . well, than anywhere else.
She hadn’t even brought them with her when she’d packed because Camille told her it was fine to leave some things there if she wanted to. The last thing Ben needed was to explain to his mother why his girlfriend owned something like that. Especially when she was pretending to be a librarian. Or pretending to be an escort who was pretending to be a librarian. She couldn’t even wrap her brain around all of it sometimes.
She pulled out her skinny jeans and shimmied into them before tossing on a navy-and-white striped T-shirt and heading out to the living room. “So I have an honest question,” she said to Ben, who was reclining with one leg up on the chaise at the end of his sofa.
He raised an eyebrow. “I feel like honesty’s overrated.”
“I’m not surprised by that.” She laughed quietly before she grew more serious. “That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“What do you mean?” Ben pulled himself up into a seated position and rested his forearms against his thighs.
“What if I blow your cover? Or . . . whatever you want to call it. What if your family finds out I’m an escort?”
“How could they find out? Even if they suspected something, it would be impossible for them to prove anything. I tried looking up your website. You don’t even have one, do you?”
Ryan shook her head, aware of the fact that she probably should. Well, she shouldn’t. But her escort persona should.
“Haven’t you taken jobs where you’ve had to pretend to play the part of someone else?”
“Nope
.” She took comfort in the fact that at least her answer wasn’t a lie.
Ben looked surprised, though she wasn’t sure why. He’d admitted to not knowing much—or anything at all—about escorts. “I guess I figured pretending was part of the job.”
“Well, I mean, I guess I’ve had to attend functions and pretend to be someone’s girlfriend before.” And we’re right back to lying. “But I’ve never had to interact with other people long enough to convince them I’m a different profession or share my past with them or anything. I have a shitty memory and a wardrobe that doesn’t exactly scream ‘college librarian.’ It feels like a lot of pressure.” She’d never felt anxious like this before, and the emotion made her more uneasy than she already was. She couldn’t put her finger on why it was so important to her that this go off without a hitch. After all, the whole thing seemed a little extreme to her anyway.
“I don’t mean to put pressure on you,” Ben said, looking concerned in a way that had her feeling guilty she’d even brought it up. “Sorry if I made you feel like that.”
Ryan took a deep breath and let her shoulders sag when she exhaled. “You didn’t. I’m putting pressure on myself. I just want this to go smoothly.” He was right—it was a job. It shouldn’t feel any different than any other job she’d taken. If she could pretend to give a shit about the slimy assholes that frequented Daisy’s, she could certainly put on a good show for Ben’s family. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t picture herself convincing anyone that she was some conservative bibliophile with a decent upbringing and a college degree.
She’d been staring at her hand as she spoke, spinning the ring on her thumb over and over nervously. When she finally shifted her eyes up to look at Ben’s, she saw a spark in them that both terrified and excited her at the same time.
“I think I have an idea that’ll make you feel a little better about all this,” he said.
* * *
Despite Ryan’s near constant pleading over dinner, Ben had managed to keep his plan a secret. Part of the reason was because he wanted it to be a surprise, but the other, more practical part of him needed to do a little research before he revealed where he was taking her.
Thankfully, once dessert arrived, Ryan seemed to have forgotten about her CIA-level interrogation and instead chose to focus on the cheesecake that had been set down in front of her.
“Good, right?” Ben said, a satisfied smile on his face as he listened to Ryan make noises that were more appropriate for the bedroom than a crowded restaurant.
“So good,” she said slowly, finally opening her eyes to look across the table at him. He raised an eyebrow, prompting her to speak again. “What?”
“Nothing,” he replied, thinking how a piece of cheesecake had never turned him on so much in his entire life. “Watching you eat.”
“That sounds a little creepy,” she said with a smile. Then she gripped the fork with her lips and pulled it out slowly.
Ben leaned back against his chair and laughed. “Only a little?”
She thought for a minute. “‘Moderately’ may be more accurate.” She took two more bites before sliding the small plate across the table toward him and nodding. “Have some.”
“One bite. I try not to eat many simple sugars, especially during the off-season, because it’s harder to stay in shape.”
“I’ve seen you naked,” she said. “You can definitely afford to eat a piece of cake once in a while.”
“Maybe we should make you a nutritionist instead of a librarian.”
Her eyebrows pressed together in thought. “Is that an insult or a compliment?”
“I think it’s somewhere in the middle,” he answered, not really sure himself. He took two bites of the dessert and set his fork down.
“Has anyone ever told you that you have really good self-control?” she asked as she toyed with her fork on her lips.
Her observation made the corner of Ben’s mouth lift into a grin he was trying his damnedest to suppress. “You really have no idea.”
Chapter Sixteen
Ryan’s arms stretched up above her head before she’d even opened her eyes. She could tell from the brightness and angle of the sun that it was earlier than she usually cared to wake up. But she wasn’t surprised. Not only had she slept in a place she wasn’t used to, Ben had promised that they were going to do . . . whatever it was he was taking her to do today.
She stayed in bed a few more minutes before finally swinging her feet over the edge of the bed and planting them on the cool hardwood. As she headed toward the kitchen, the scent of coffee and bacon grew strong enough that she could almost taste it in the air. “Should I get used to this?” she asked, referring to Ben standing in front of the stove cooking.
He spun around to face her, a spatula in his hand as he moved to lean against the countertop. “That depends. Should I get used to you walking around without any pants on?”
Ryan had forgotten that she wasn’t wearing any, but since her white T-shirt covered all her important parts—albeit barely—she didn’t think it mattered. Shrugging, she gave him a playful “probably” before grabbing a mug and pouring herself a cup of coffee. “You have any cream?”
“No. I actually drink mine black.”
“That’s disgusting.”
Ben laughed. “I like it. There’s milk in the fridge, though. Will that work?”
Ryan moved some sports drinks around and grabbed the half-gallon jug in the back. “No,” she said, noticing the date. “It expired two days ago.”
“Really? Let me see.” Ben moved closer to her, pressing up against her as he looked over her shoulder. “That’s the sell-by date, not the expiration date. You can still drink it.”
“I’m sure I could, but I’m not going to. It’s probably been in there for weeks.”
Ben laughed her comment off like the notion was ridiculous. “No, it hasn’t.”
She put the container on the counter and crossed her arms to let him know she was challenging him. “Okay, when did you get it?”
Ben stared blankly as his eyes looked to the ceiling. He bit his lip as he thought.
“Okay, this is going down the drain,” she said, already unscrewing the cap and heading for the sink.
“Wait. I didn’t even tell you when it’s from.”
“I know. That’s the problem. You’re not doing advanced physics. It shouldn’t take you this long to come up with the day you went food shopping.”
“It’s only because I wasn’t the one who did the food shopping.”
Ryan’s head jerked back in confusion. “Who did it?”
“There’s a company in the city that I use. They go to different stores and pick up what I need and deliver it.”
She was sure her expression must’ve looked like he’d spoken Mandarin because though she was certain words were flowing from his mouth, she couldn’t seem to understand them. “But you still had to order it,” she said.
“I paid for it, but I don’t tell them what to get. I’ve been using them for years, so by now they know what I like and how quickly I go through everything. It’s all computerized. It basically creates a genius playlist for food, and the delivery people buy what’s on it. I don’t have to suggest anything unless I need something specific.”
“You need milk,” Ryan said, causing Ben’s eyes to crinkle with a smile.
“I’ll add it to the list,” he said with a nod. “Now go get ready. We can stop at Starbucks downstairs if you want.”
Ryan was tempted to tell him that she didn’t even know what was on the menu at Starbucks because she never had the money to go there. She was also tempted to ask again where the hell he was taking her, but managed to keep her mouth closed as she turned around and headed back down the hall to her new room. If this was how Ben Williamson lived, then it was how she lived too.
At least for now.
* * *
Ben held the thick glass door for Ryan so she could enter, and then he walked casually
over to the marble counter in the back of the store. “We have an appointment with Charlotte,” he said. “Benjamin Williamson.”
Giving him a warm smile, the woman nodded politely. “I’ll let her know that you’re here, Mr. Williamson,” she said before heading into the back.
Ben thanked her and then turned back toward where Ryan was standing, looking at the racks of clothing that ran along each of the two long walls. He’d never been in L’une before, but Jace had told him some of his teammates’ wives shopped there, so he figured he’d give it a shot.
“What is this place?” she asked, her eyes still drifting over the racks and freestanding shelves placed around the middle of the shop.
“Ummm . . . a clothing store?” Ben answered.
“I know that much, smart-ass. I mean, is L’une some designer or something? I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s not a single designer. They carry all different ones. Do you have certain ones you prefer?”
Ryan looked like she’d been asked to recite the alphabet backwards. Her mouth opened slightly as if she were about to speak, but she hesitated for a few moments before finally formulating a thought. “I like lots of them.”
Ben almost laughed at her response but before he could, another woman approached them.
“Good morning. I’m Charlotte,” she said, extending her hand toward Ben. “It’s so nice to meet you.” Then she turned to Ryan, who looked oddly uncomfortable, though Ben wasn’t sure why. “And you must be Ryan.”
“That would be me,” she replied.
“Neither of you have been here before, correct?” Charlotte asked, glancing between the two of them.
“No. It’s our first time here,” Ben said.
“Well, let me tell you a little about L’une before we begin. The store’s name means ‘The One’ in French. We take pride in the fact that no matter what you may be looking for, L’une has it. So tell me, what brings you in today?”
Her question was to Ryan, but she looked too stunned to respond.
The Proposition Page 11
