"No." Ben shook his head and waited impatiently for the woman to bag his order, ring it up, and pass it over the counter to him. He counted out the correct change and hurried out the door.
He had a thing or two to say to Hamilton Jordan, and he sure couldn't do it in this busy restaurant.
Ben yanked open the car door and resisted the urge to fling his purchases into the car. He wanted the food to be edible when it arrived, so he placed it carefully down on the seat. Then he slid in and closed the door.
"Have you been lurking around me all week?" he demanded as started the car.
Not around you exactly. In you.
That surprised Ben so much that his foot slipped off the clutch; he stalled the engine and had to start all over again.
This time, Ben waited until he had backed out of the parking slot and had merged back into traffic before he asked another question.
"Why aren't you done with me?" It felt odd to be talking to himself like that. But at least he wasn't answering, was he? He didn't think he was.
I don't know. Like you, I thought that if Cory and I could finally… uh… consummate our love, we would be released.
"But, you're still here," Ben concluded as he steered the Mustang onto the shell road that led to Venable House and Corrie.
Yes. I'm as perplexed as you.
"I guess you aren't done with all your unfinished business," Ben muttered as the stately pair of magnolias came into view.
I think so too, but I have no idea what else it could be. I thought Cory was my most pressing need.
Ben crunched up the drive between the huge old trees and remembered the last time he'd let Ham take over. "You aren't going to pull another one of those stunts, are you?" If Ham was, he might as well turn around now.
I heard that. And I promise we won't compromise you and Corrine again. But I won't promise not to take advantage of anything you and Corrie might choose to do yourself.
"Fair enough," Ben said as he parked the car. He collected his packages and headed for the house, trying to convince himself that he hadn't been carrying on a conversation with a ghost.
But of course, he had been.
He was clairvoyant, after all.
****
Corrie had heard the familiar sound of the Mustang as it turned into the driveway and was at the door by the time Ben reached the house. She flung open the door before he had a chance to open it himself.
"Hi," he said, startled enough to have to juggle his bags for a moment. He steadied his load, then handed one bag to Corrie. "I meant to call ahead for pizza, but realized I didn't know who to call. I got chicken instead."
The aroma emanating from the bag was enough to make anyone's mouth water. And Corrie's did. "This smells heavenly." Corrie drew in another deep breath and swallowed. "Do you want to see the picture first or eat?"
After barking her shins on it all week, she'd taken the painting into the library. Though she'd seen it and was fairly sure it was the one Ben had described, she assumed he'd want to see it right away to be certain.
"No. I've been smelling this all the way from town. I don't think the picture will go anywhere while we eat."
Corrie led him into the guest dining room. "I don't know," she said flippantly as she gestured toward the table she'd prepared in anticipation of Ben's arrival. "It would be just like our friendly ghosts to play hide and seek with it."
Eat your food. The painting will still be there.
She glanced around. "Please tell me you heard that."
Ben looked puzzled and shook his head. "Is something wrong? I didn't hear anything." His eyes shone with curiosity. "What did you hear?"
Corrie placed her sack on the table, already set with dishes, and carefully unfolded the top. "You're going to think this is weird," she said, keeping her eyes down as she transferred the chicken onto a plate. She'd already set out silverware and cloth napkins.
"Try me."
"Like I said, it's weird. Creepy." She shuddered. "But, I've been hearing someone talk to me this past week. A decidedly female someone. From inside my head." She might as well go in for the whole thing. "I think it's Cory."
Ben smiled that lopsided smile Corrie loved so much. "No, I don't think it's strange at all. Ham hitched a ride home with me and has been giving me unsolicited advice all week. I think those two have become even more intimately connected to us since they…"
He began busily transferring little foam cups of food from the bag to the table, and Corrie thought she detected a hint of color rising to his tanned cheeks.
"You know, you really didn't have to go to so much trouble. They threw in plastic." Ben held up the two cellophane-wrapped packets containing disposable necessities.
Corrie made a face, but she was grateful that Ben had switched to another topic of conversation, inane though it was. She really wanted to forget that night. If only she could. "I'd rather eat off the real stuff and wash the resulting dishes than use those." She gestured toward the collection of containers.
"All right. I'll dry if you wash." Ben pulled out a chair and motioned for Corrie to sit.
"Thanks, but I think the dishwasher can do all the work," she murmured as she slid into the chair. "I hope you like iced tea." She lifted a sweating pitcher and poured some into a glass.
Ben chuckled, his husky laugh sending shivers down Corrie's spine. "It's a good thing you made tea. I forgot to get anything to drink."
Corrie grinned. "That shows how well a man can plan. You guys seem to think that everything will be there when you need it."
"It was, wasn't it?" Ben raised his glass and offered a toast. "To the fairer sex, the planners of the world." He clinked his glass against hers.
Corrie had to admit that the toast had a lot of class, and she smiled as Ben raised his glass to his lips. She watched as he drank down the entire glassful in one long draught. So fascinated was she with the way his Adam's apple bobbed, and his throat contracted and expanded, that she left her own glass suspended in air.
She hadn't even thought to eat.
"Aren't you hungry?"
Corrie shook herself out of her trance and smiled. "Starved. I was just fascinated by the way you drained that glass all at once."
Ben smiled sheepishly. "My mother would be appalled, but I was parched. I don't think I had time to stop for a drink of water since lunch. I promise to behave from now on."
Corrie had her doubts about that, but she nodded and refilled his glass. She had seen nothing wrong with his behavior last weekend, and with the exception of the time she'd found him in her bed, he'd always been a perfect gentlemen. Well, almost always, she thought as she remembered his kisses in the kitchen. And the foyer. But then, that hadn't been Ben acting, she reminded herself. She wondered if she would ever be able to tell when it was really him. Corrie lowered her face to look at her food just in time to prevent Ben from seeing the color rising to her face.
****
The last dish was safely stowed in the machine, and Ben watched as Corrie added the detergent and switched it on. Fortunately, he hadn't had to follow through with his offer to dry. Corrie had put everything in the dishwasher while he deposited the paper and trash in the can.
The machine busily chugging away, Corrie turned to Ben. "Ready to see the painting?" she asked as she rinsed her hands and dried them on a paper towel.
"Yeah. I've waited long enough." That wasn't the only thing he'd been waiting for, he realized, but one step at a time. He knew he'd have to pace himself very carefully after what had happened the last time they'd been together.
Corrie tossed the used paper towel into the trash and pointed to the door. "The painting is in the library. I had to put it away because I kept tripping over it." She glanced ruefully toward her shins, covered in crisply pressed, yellow slacks. "I have the bruises to show for it."
Ben pushed open the door and ushered Corrie forward. She led him though the dining room, the sitting area, and the lobby, and down the short hallway to th
e library. He wasn't certain what to expect, but if the painting were the same one he had seen, it would be another link in the chain of evidence he needed to substantiate the ghost's existence.
Can't they just accept a man's word?
"Not these days," Ben muttered under his breath as he crossed the threshold into the room.
"Did you say something?" Corrie asked as she flipped a switch and bathed the room in brilliant light. She gestured toward the writing table.
"Uh, no. I was just thinking out loud." As Ben turned his attention to the desk, a chill raced down his spine.
The painting lying atop the table was, indeed, the one Ben had seen. Or at least, a very good copy.
He ran his fingers over the ornate frame, wondering why there was no dust in the many crevices in the carved surface. The painting, too, was immaculate and free from grime. He looked at Corrie. "Where did this come from? Did the ghosts conjure it up?"
It looked too new to have been here all along.
Corrie chuckled. "No. Nothing as esoteric as that. It was among a bunch I had taken to Mr. Jessup to restore." She pointed to the seam at the upper left corner of the frame. "The wood had separated here, and the canvas itself was pretty filthy." She looked back up at Ben, her green eyes luminous. "He did an excellent job."
"And you just now remembered it?" Ben asked absently as he felt himself sinking into the depths of Corrie's eyes.
Glancing shyly away, Corrie answered. "No. I had forgotten all about it. When you described it that night, I remembered seeing it, but not what had happened to it."
"Then what made you get it from Mr. Jessup?"
"I didn't. J. R. brought it over the other morning when he came to fix the generator." She blushed then, and Ben knew with certainty that she was remembering what had happened between them — all right, Ham and Cory with them as proxies — the other night.
He reached for her and took her small hands in his. "You know that I'll be here for you if…" He closed his eyes. He understood why the ghosts had done what they had, but he didn't know why they were still around. And he couldn't help thinking that they might be manipulating them still in some subtle way.
And that made him nervous.
Very nervous.
****
"Look at them, Ham," said Cory from her spot near the roll top desk. "They're being so polite. Can't we just give them a little nudge?"
Ham had to agree that the two mortals were still being dreadfully slow at making amends. "No, Cory, we can't. I promised Dr. Chastain that we would not interfere this time."
Cory pouted prettily, but Ham could see that she understood. "That was certainly a stupid thing to do."
Sighing, Ham readily agreed. However, he wouldn't tell her. After that brief taste of the physical world, it was hard to have to return to just watching.
But he had promised…
"But, I did warn him that we would not hesitate to hop aboard should they take the initiative." Ham saw Cory smile. "You and I did agree to let them fall in love on their own."
Cory placed her hands on her hips. "Well, how can they do that if they treat each other as though they were lepers?" She indicated the couple standing an arm's length from her.
"Look at their eyes, Cory. See how he glances at her when he thinks she isn't looking."
"Yes. And Corrine does the same."
"So don't fret. They will be in each other's arms soon enough."
Crossing her arms over her chest, Cory pouted again. "It won't be soon enough for me," she said and ended her statement with a gusty sigh.
****
Corrie withdrew her hands from Ben's and looked away. It would be so much easier if he weren't so earnest. She thought she could handle the eventual rejection if he'd been a cold-hearted jerk about it. But he'd been so nice.
"It isn't going to be a problem," she said quietly. "There won't be a baby." And suddenly, the knowledge that she wasn't pregnant was worse than the uncertainty had been. Unbidden tears rose to her eyes, and Corrie blinked to banish the unwanted wetness. Embarrassed by her blatant show of emotions, she turned away.
There was no reason for her to be so weepy. It must be her hormones at work. This was supposed to be good news.
Is it?
Corrie stifled a sob. She'd gotten so used to hearing Cory in her head that she wasn't even sure whose thought that had been.
A strong hand fell lightly on her shoulder. Ben squeezed her comfortingly then proceeded to send her heart racing for parts unknown as he caressed her upper arm.
"That's good news, Corrie. But it doesn't mean that this is the end." There was a seemingly endless pause before he continued. "It can mean that we can begin fresh without any unwanted baggage."
Corrie could have jumped for joy, but Ben's surprisingly sweet gesture had truly overwhelmed her. She tried to hold back another sob, but it broke free, loud, and heart-wrenching, even to her.
Ben stopped rubbing, and for a moment, Corrie thought she had ruined it all with her unrestrained emotion. She stood there, feeling empty, and waited for the worst.
But the worst didn't come. Instead, Ben gently touched her shoulders and turned her around. He smiled at her and caught one runaway tear with a light touch of a knuckle.
Corrie drew in a ragged breath and closed her eyes, squeezing them tight to prevent the further spill of tears. But she sent them flying open again as Ben touched the tip of her chin and guided her face upward. "It's all right, Corrie. I didn't mean to make you to cry." He kissed her then, mingling his unique taste with the saltiness of her tears.
He drew back and looked down at her with an expression that Corrie could only define as adoring. "I never want you to cry," he repeated huskily.
Then he kissed her once again.
With feeling, Corrie couldn't help thinking. She placed her hands around Ben's neck as he wrapped her in his powerful embrace.
****
Reluctantly, Ben unwrapped his arms from around Corrie's slender form and stepped back, ending the embrace.
Thank you.
That wasn't for you, old man, Ben thought pointedly in Ham's direction. That was for me. And you know, I really wouldn't mind being alone with my woman once in a while.
My woman? When had Corrie gained that position in his life? He looked down into her shimmering, blue-green eyes, moist and slightly red with tears and knew he was lost. How could any man not want her?
Then you must let her know.
Ben closed his eyes and sighed, willing himself to be patient. How can I do that? I'm sure she'd be constantly wondering exactly who is kissing her. Me? Or you?
Understood. I'll speak to Cory. But you realize that we'll be here until we learn what it is we have left to accomplish.
You're better equipped to do that than I. Any suggestions?
Not a one, but I'll think on it.
Good, now leave me alone.
"Ben?" Corrie's voice quavered, weak and uncertain.
"Yes, Corrie." He smiled gently down on her, and for just a brief moment, he wondered how much of her actions were due to the influence of Cory Venable. His smile faltered, but he recovered it quickly. "I…" He cleared his throat. "I thought you would prefer if we move a little slower than the pace Cory and Ham had set."
Corrie's eyes brightened with a smile. "Yes, I suppose you're right." She stared dreamily off into space. "We did sort of put the cart before the horse. Or Cory and Ham did it for us."
"Exactly. And if I interpreted your earlier remark correctly, there isn't anything to worry about." This so was hard. Ben ran a hand through his hair. He knew that if they'd been further along in a real relationship, this particular conversation wouldn't be so awkward.
Corrie stared down at the floor, seemingly scrutinizing the pattern of the oriental carpet.
"Corrie? Are you all right with this?"
She looked back up. "Yes. At least, I think I am." But she sighed. "I just wish those ghosts would leave us alone."
"Amen
to that." Ben smiled down at Corrie, careful to keep his hands at a safe distance from hers. "If we only knew what they have left to do."
Corrie backed up half a step, and was halted by the writing table. Ben could see that she was harboring much the same doubts as he. It wasn't the best way to begin a relationship, he couldn't help thinking.
Would there even have been a relationship without the intrusion of Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton Benjamin Jordan? It was odd, Ben realized suddenly, that Ham hadn't stuck in his two cents' worth in the past few minutes. Maybe he was finally going to leave him alone.
"Do you think you have enough evidence to write your story?" Corrie had turned to look at the painting and was staring at it with studious concentration.
Ben lowered himself to one of the wing chairs and sighed. "I have enough evidence to say that I believe there are ghosts here. You and I have both seen concrete proof. But, I don't have a story."
Corrie's head popped up from her examination of the painting, but she said nothing.
"To have a story, I need to find resolution or, at least, know why they are still here." He shrugged and shoved himself back out of the chair. "I would have bet anything that they… Apparently, there's more to it than…"
"I see," Corrie said simply. "They still have something else to do." Her expression clouded, and her face puckered with a frown. "You don't suppose they're still lurking just to make us miserable?"
Ben was as unhappy with the status quo as Corrie, but he didn't really think that Ham and Cory were trying to ruin their lives. "I don't get that from Ham."
Corrie sighed. "I didn't think so. I don't get anything like that from Cory either." She clasped her hands awkwardly in front of her. "What are you going to do?"
About us or the story? he couldn't help wondering. "I don't know. I have to go home and finish the book if I can. I just hope I'll be able to piece something together that makes a readable story." He drew a deep breath and walked toward Corrie. "I wish I could write a happy ending for them." And us, he didn't say.
Bed, Breakfast, and Beyond Page 17
