“We need to get her a dress for my brother’s wedding.” He put an arm around Ryan, pulling her closer to him. “And anything else that catches her eye.”
Charlotte nodded. “How formal is the wedding?”
“Very.”
“What season?”
“Summer. In a few weeks. Will that be a problem if alterations need to be done?”
“We’ll see to it that it isn’t,” she said before directing her attention to Ryan again. “Are there any certain colors you’re looking for? I feel like with your skin tone, pastels would look fabulous.”
“Whatever you think,” Ryan said. “I didn’t have anything in particular in mind.”
“Perfect. I’ll start pulling some dresses, and you can take a look around to see what else you’d like to try on. There’ll be a dressing room started for you in the back when you’re ready.”
Ben and Ryan thanked her before she turned to go. Once Charlotte had disappeared to the front of the store, Ryan spoke. “I appreciate all of this. I really do. So don’t take this the wrong way—”
“Anytime anyone says not to take something the wrong way, that’s the only way it can be taken.”
“I understand that I need a dress for the wedding, but I have enough money to buy one. You don’t need to pay for that. And you definitely don’t need to pay for other clothes too.”
It didn’t surprise him that Ryan would decline his offer. He might not know her well enough yet to bring to his parents’ for an extended stay, but her independence and self-reliance had been clear from the moment he’d knocked her in the face with the door. She didn’t need anyone taking care of her, and a part of her was probably insulted by the fact that someone would even try to.
“I know I don’t need to pay for it, but I want to.”
Ryan rolled her eyes, though he could tell that she wasn’t as annoyed as she was pretending to be.
“Look, you told me yourself that the clothes you have aren’t really appropriate for the job I’m asking you to do. I’m asking you to spend a few days with the pretentious posse I refer to as my relatives, the least I can do is help you prepare for it. And if buying you a few outfits will make you feel like you fit in a little more, then it’s well worth it.”
Ryan shook her head, but he could hear her concession when she sighed heavily. She didn’t even need to say the “fine” for him to know he’d won. Ryan was going to get some new designer clothes. And she was going to look damn sexy doing it. He was certain of it.
Chapter Seventeen
Ryan’s reluctance seemed to dissipate with every piece of clothing she tried on. Not only did she look better than she’d probably ever looked, she felt confident in a way that she hadn’t before. “What do you think?” she asked as she emerged from the dressing room in black skinny jeans, heels, a textured yellow top, and a light blazer with a muted floral print. It was an outfit she’d never choose for herself—even if a less expensive version existed—but she had to admit it came together nicely.
Ben was sitting casually in the large slate gray chair outside the fitting rooms, his long arms draped on either side of him over the back of it. His eyes raked over her as they had each time she’d asked for his opinion. He didn’t look like he was studying the clothing so much as he was studying her. His gaze warmed her as she stood in front of him. “We’ll take it,” he said to Charlotte, but his stare never left Ryan.
Of the ten or so outfits she’d tried on, only two of them hadn’t made the cut.
“I guess I’ll do the dresses now,” Ryan said. She wasn’t sure why she’d opted to save the dresses for last when that was the only piece of clothing that was an absolute necessity, but she was happy she did. Trying on everything else had given her a chance to adjust to what apparently would be her style for Connecticut.
“Start with the gold one,” she heard Ben call once the door closed behind her.
She flipped through the hangers until she found the gown that Charlotte had insisted would look “fabulous” on her. But feeling as though the netted sequins were a little too much for her taste, Ryan had tried to disagree. The woman may have done this for a living, but there was no way Ryan would be comfortable walking around sparkling like Edward Cullen in sunlight. Especially since the last thing she wanted to do once she met Ben’s family was draw any more attention to herself than necessary.
Once she’d stepped into the dress, Charlotte helped zip it up and then clipped it in a few spots so she could see what it would look like when it was fitted. She emerged from the dressing room and looked into the tri-fold mirror so she could see herself from various angles. “It looks better than I expected it to.”
“You look absolutely stunning,” Charlotte said. “The A-line and sheer yoke complement your figure.”
Ben, who had risen from the chair to walk over to where Ryan and Charlotte were standing, looked at Charlotte and then to the dress and then back to Charlotte.
Finally, the woman seemed to understand Ben’s silent question. He had no clue what she was talking about. “I mean the cut of the dress and the sheer part on top look good on her.”
“Oh, gotcha,” Ben replied as he crossed his arms over his broad chest and nodded.
Ryan spent the next ten minutes or so trying on a few more. In her opinion, all of them looked good enough to wear to a wedding where she barely knew anyone, but she figured she’d try on all the ones that Charlotte had pulled for her before making any final decisions.
Eventually she’d gone with a white dress with coral lace overlay that came right above the knee for the rehearsal dinner—which she’d forgotten she’d have to attend—and a floor-length royal-blue satin gown for the wedding. From the moment she’d put it on, she’d loved it. The shoulder strap with rhinestone detail added enough glitz without making her feel too flashy. Because even though she was going to be someone else for a few days, she still wanted to be herself too.
Charlotte took all her measurements so the dresses and a few of the outfits could be altered, and Ben paid the astronomically large bill, reminding Ryan once again how out of her element she truly was.
Ben grabbed the bags, and they headed back out to the street, where he had an SUV waiting for them.
“We can walk,” Ryan said. “It’s only a few blocks. I’ll help you carry the bags.”
Ben smiled as he set the bags down and helped Ryan into the car. “We could if we were going home.”
“If we’re not going home, where are we going?” Something in Ben’s eyes told her she probably didn’t want to know the answer, but her curiosity had won out.
“An acting class.”
* * *
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Ryan said, her eyes wide as they stared at each other in the back seat of the car. “I can’t act.”
“Then we’re going to the right place,” he answered simply.
“No. We’re not. This is going to be humiliating.”
He cocked his head to the side, urging her to be realistic. “Have you ever gone to one?”
“No.”
“Well, then you have no prior experience to base your assumptions on. You might be the best one in the class.”
“That’s insulting to everyone else who’s going to be there.” She let her head fall back against the headrest and blew a frustrated sigh through her nose.
“I think you’re exaggerating. I think you’ll like it.”
She turned toward him, her head never leaving its place against the back of the seat. “Are we just stating what we think? Because if so, I want a turn.” She stared at him like she was trying to decide on an appropriate insult. “I think you’re psychotic.”
Ben laughed softly. He knew she was being overly dramatic on purpose, which only made him want to torture her more. But he also had a feeling some of her reservations were deeply rooted inside her. “I disagree. I’ve never worn a straitjacket in my life.”
“Well, maybe it’s time you start.”
/> Though Ryan’s reaction amused him, Ben grew serious. He slid a little closer to her and reached an arm around her, squeezing her shoulder. “I know you’re worried about not being able to pull all this off. And I don’t want to dismiss that. I figured doing something like this might set your mind at ease a little. You’re embarrassed now, but at least you’ll probably feel more comfortable once we get up to Connecticut.” He raised his eyebrows at her and waited for her to agree. When she didn’t, he added, “Plus, it can’t be worse than ice-skating, right?”
He could tell she was trying to fight a smile. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because this time I have no idea what the hell I’m doing either.”
Ryan stared blankly at him for a moment before responding. “Well, that’s comforting,” she said as they pulled up in front of a brick building and the driver put the car in park and got out.
Chapter Eighteen
The acting class had been a sweet way for Ben to show her how much the whole ruse had meant to him. They’d gotten into a circle with the other participants and played some game where the group tells a story one word at a time, and everyone mimes the action happening. It’d felt strange at first, but seeing Ben down on all fours, barking like a dog without even a hint of embarrassment had revealed a side of him that Ryan hadn’t seen before. And despite its initial goofiness, they’d actually learned a thing or two from the class. Unfortunately, her new acting skills didn’t transfer into real life quite yet. There was no pretending that some of the things Ben did didn’t drive her insane. And now, two days after she’d watched this handsome hockey player deliver the Pledge of Allegiance in the acting class as if he’d just put his dog to sleep, she was getting ready to call a time-out on the whole living together idea.
“I’m surprised you haven’t blown a fuse,” Ryan said when she saw Ben come into the room. She put the last few strokes of nail polish on her toes before screwing the cap on.
“What’d you say?” Ben asked.
She turned around so she could see him as he looked around in the fridge for something. “I said, I’m surprised you haven’t blown a fuse.” She’d raised her voice so he could hear her over the music.
“Why do you say that?” he nearly yelled back.
Ryan held up her arms and gestured around her, thinking that she wouldn’t need to actually explain.
When Ben’s eyebrows raised, she realized she was wrong.
“You’ve turned on nearly every electronic device in every room. It’s bright enough in here that I practically need sunglasses.”
Ben laughed as he took a swig out of the orange juice container. “I think you’re exaggerating a little. Plus, you turned some of the lights on too.”
“Yeah. But I turned them off when I left the room.”
Ben shrugged before taking off the shirt he’d just worked out in. He tossed it in front of the door to the laundry room, causing Ryan to clench her teeth together so she wouldn’t say something.
She knew she didn’t really have a right to comment on anything he did in his own home. She was a guest here. But still, watching a grown man treat his luxury apartment like a teenage boy’s bedroom caused some sort of a physical reaction in her. Not to mention the fact Ben seemed to use every available opportunity to get rid of any extra clothing that might be weighing him down. He was shirtless so frequently that she could probably take a pretty accurate guess as to how many hairs the man had on his chest.
She did her best not to look his way, but it was impossible. His chiseled physique glistened with a subtle sheen of sweat that his shirt hadn’t absorbed, and his black mesh shorts sat low enough that she could see his hip bones. She rolled her head against the back of the couch, hoping to relieve some of the tension she was feeling. And though she knew some of it was caused by all the annoying shit Ben did, the rest of it was most likely directly linked to the fact that she wanted to bang his brains out again but couldn’t.
“I’m gonna go take a shower,” Ben said, causing Ryan to roll her head to the side so she could see him. As he left the room, he flicked the switch to turn on the ceiling fan above her. “To get rid of the nail polish smell,” he said with a smirk before heading down the hall to his room.
She’d have been lying if she said she didn’t watch every muscle in his body flex as he walked away.
* * *
It had been less than a week, and already Ben was starting to have buyer’s remorse about asking Ryan to move in. But he wasn’t even sure if she was the one to blame. It wasn’t like she was in the way or that she got on his nerves. It was more that having someone in his space was an adjustment. And it wasn’t necessarily one he welcomed.
Ben squeezed some body wash onto his hand and began to lather his skin as he thought about what it might be like to share a hotel room with Ryan. They could barely share his large apartment without him feeling claustrophobic. Still, as difficult as it would probably be, he had no other options. It wasn’t like he could go out and find another escort.
Well, technically he could. But his interaction with that person wouldn’t be any better than it was with Ryan. And the two of them certainly had an undeniable chemistry that would be nearly impossible to fake.
Maybe being together out of the confines of his own home would be beneficial. Maybe more neutral turf would help. Or maybe they’d wind up killing each other, and the police would find their remains spread out across a room on the eleventh floor of their hotel.
Only time would tell.
Ben turned off the water and dried himself with a clean white towel before wrapping it around his waist and sliding open the glass door. He brushed his teeth, put on a little deodorant, and headed toward the laundry room to grab his clothes.
He hadn’t even made it to the kitchen when he heard Ryan clear her throat in a way that was obviously meant as a notification of her presence. Not that he’d forgotten she was there. “What?” he asked, pausing to stare at where she was seated in the living room.
“Do you have some sort of aversion to clothing?”
He looked down at himself—and his white towel that he’d draped around his waist before leaving the bathroom. “No. What would make you think that? I’m covered.”
“With a towel,” Ryan added.
“So what?” Ben continued toward the laundry room. “It’s the same thing.”
“It’s definitely not the same thing. If you wouldn’t wear it outside of your house, it doesn’t count as clothing.”
“That argument’s flawed,” Ben yelled out as he dug through the dryer for his favorite pair of sweatpants.
“Would you wear a towel to the store?”
“Of course not.”
“Okay,” she replied. “That’s exactly my point. That’s how you know it’s not an article of clothing.”
Ben pulled on the faded gray pants and headed out to the living room, plopping himself in one of the big comfy chairs. “I never claimed that a towel is clothing. That’s ridiculous. I claimed that there are holes in your argument.”
“How so?” She sat up straighter and crossed her arms under her breasts, pushing them together in a way that made him need to remind himself to keep his dick in check.
“You said that if you won’t wear it out, it doesn’t count as clothing. That’s untrue. There are plenty of clothes I wouldn’t wear out: boxers, pajamas, those fuzzy socks I wear that you hate because they have a hole in them.” He counted the examples on his fingers in satisfaction as she stared blankly at him. “And I have a horrible Christmas sweater that my grandmother sent me when I was in college. I’m not going anywhere covered in ornaments and reindeer. Oh, and you wouldn’t go out of the house in only a bra, would you?”
“Okay, you proved your point. You can stop now.”
Ben relaxed back on the chair, giving her a victorious grin.
“My point—which apparently I did an awful job of making—is that you shouldn’t be walking around in a towel when I’m here.”
<
br /> “Well, just so we’re clear, I put the towel on because you’re here. I would’ve walked around naked otherwise.”
He thought he noticed Ryan blush a little as her eyes darted to the floor briefly. “Well . . .”—she let out a frustrated huff—“it makes me . . . uncomfortable is all.”
“Okay, well, that’s all you had to say. I’ll make sure I at least have underwear on when you’re around.”
She glared at him.
“Shorts?”
“That would be preferable.”
“Okay. I’m glad we had this conversation. See? We’re getting somewhere. This is us learning how to live with each other, finding out each other’s pet peeves and stuff. We’re making progress.” She shook her head playfully at him. “And as long as we’re being honest, I should tell you that it doesn’t work both ways. If you want to walk around in your bra and underwear—”
“That won’t happen.”
“Well, there’s no need to decide now. If you wake up one morning and you want to spend the day naked, I’m totally fine with it.” More than fine, actually. He smiled broadly at her. “Your comfort is my top priority.”
She rolled her eyes at him, but he could tell the irritation in her had died a little. “I’m sure it is,” she said.
Chapter Nineteen
“Excuse me,” Ben grumbled as he tried to squeeze past Ryan so he could get to the refrigerator.
She was washing dishes in the sink. At his words, she moved closer to the counter, but his back was still right up against hers as he pulled the refrigerator doors open.
Normally Ben wouldn’t have complained about being pressed up against Ryan, but it was early and he was still adjusting to sharing his space. Or not adjusting may have been more accurate. “Why don’t you use the dishwasher? That’s why it’s there.” Ben pulled a carton of milk and some eggs out of the refrigerator.
“You’re kidding. Is that what a dishwasher does? Washes dishes?” Ryan deadpanned.
Ben went to retrieve a pan from where it was hanging above the island. “If you know what one’s for, why do you insist on washing the dishes by hand?”
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