The Fix Up

by Tawna Fenske

  “Okay, so you’re snuggled up in a blanket nest on the sofa,” she said. “And you’ve got your snack.”

  “Yep. Got your remote?”

  “Yes.” She took another sip of her float. “My feet are a little cold. Can I put them on you?”

  Ben laughed. “Sure. Here, let me scoot over so you can snuggle under my arm and get warm. Better?”

  “Much,” she said, closing her eyes as she imagined herself leaning her head against Ben’s chest. She sighed with pleasure, the glass chilly in her hands, her feet somehow toasty now, and somewhere in the middle—right around her heart—she felt absolutely perfect.

  “Okay then,” Ben said. “Three, two, one, play.”

  Holly opened her eyes and hit the button, then watched as the 1977 version of the Twentieth Century Fox logo flashed across the screen. The image faded, giving way to a sea of brightly colored words on a black screen.

  “A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away—” Ben murmured.

  She closed her eyes again, giving herself over to the steady hum of his voice, the softness of the blankets, the smooth richness of her dessert.

  And the terrifying suspicion she was falling for Ben Langley.

  The next morning, Ben was still warm all over from his night of make-believe snuggling with Holly. Unlike his teen years when his social awkwardness and rapid advancement through school had made imaginary girlfriends the only kind he could get, Holly was all real. Even virtual-cuddling with her felt better than real intimacy with most women had.

  Of course, that didn’t detract from the fact that touching her for real had been mind-blowing. Both times. He ached to have his mouth on her again, to feel her writhing beneath his palms and hear those soft gasps of pleasure as he touched and tasted and stroked her.

  God, he was losing his mind.

  He kept himself busy all morning, working on spreadsheets and sales reports and going over the figures for a new client they were bidding on. Anything to keep his mind off having Holly again.

  When his phone rang at eleven and he saw her name on the readout, Ben’s heart nearly surged out of his chest.

  “Holly,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Is life vastly improved for you now that you aren’t the only person on the planet never to have seen Star Wars?”

  She laughed. “Yes. Losing my Star Wars virginity to you has been life-changing. I just finished doing my hair in Princess Leia braids.”

  “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

  “Now I almost feel guilty for disappointing you when you see me.”

  “I’m going to see you?” Ben winced at the giddy note in his own voice, but Holly didn’t seem to notice.

  “You are if you accept my proposal. I was thinking about the fact that you still don’t have a bed—”

  “This idea just keeps getting better.”

  “Down, boy. Remember when we first met at the furniture store and you were being eaten alive by that sales clerk?”

  “Vaguely. Was that when I got kissed by some strange woman I’d never met?”

  “You kissed me, Langley. Which was about the only assertive thing you did.”

  “Give me a break. I was jet-lagged.”

  “And now you’re not. Plus you’ve been working on being in control and commanding. Wouldn’t it be good practice for you to walk back into that furniture store and try out your new assertiveness in the same environment?”

  Ben wasn’t sure he loved the idea itself, but the thought of seeing Holly again was enough to convince him. “How about I pick you up in thirty minutes?”

  “Really? You mean you’re up for it?”

  “Sure, why not? You’re right, it’ll be good practice. Are you going to require me to beat aggressive saleswomen over the head with lamps, or is it sufficient to politely refuse their advances?”

  “I think I’m going to need you to stop short of actual violence.”

  “That’s too bad. I was looking forward to kicking some ass.”

  Holly laughed. “Say that again a few times and maybe it’ll sound less awkward coming out of your mouth.”

  “And this is where, as a gentleman, I politely refrain from twisting your words to remark upon the likelihood of coming in your mouth.”

  “Jesus Christ, Ben.” Her voice sounded more shocked and breathy than offended, but he still wasn’t sure if he should apologize until she spoke again.

  “You’ve got a good head start on the assertive vocalization,” she said. “Pick me up in thirty minutes and you can talk dirty to me all the way to the furniture store.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Despite what Holly had said on the phone, Ben refrained from talking dirty to her in the car. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. It was more that he wanted to prove to her this could be more than a surface fling. That he wasn’t just another jerk like his dad whose only use for relationships was as rungs on his career ladder.

  Okay, so that crack he’d made about coming in her mouth had been taking it too far, though she hadn’t seemed to mind. Hell, if he read things right, it even turned her on.

  But was he wrong for wanting more than that? For thinking they could be more than just a business-based dalliance?

  Ben shushed his inner critic as he hit his turn signal and took the exit toward the furniture store. The vehicle was new, an embarrassingly flashy sports car his father had urged him to buy a few days ago. Ben had been perfectly happy with his old Volvo, but his dad insisted the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company shouldn’t be driving a car that still had his college bumper stickers on the back.

  “Get a real car, dammit,” Lyle told him. “Something that’ll make people sit up and take notice.”

  Ben had to admit, the car was pretty nice. Or maybe it was just the view of Holly in the passenger seat with her long legs bare against the leather seat and her dark hair rustling in the breeze from the air conditioner.

  “Are those your golf clubs in back?” she asked.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “I thought you hated golf.”

  “I do.”

  She gave him an odd look. “So you’re driving them out into the country to leave them for dead?”

  “Nah, I’m trying to build a relationship with them. I figure if I carry them around for a while, maybe play some nice music and show them a bit of scenery, we’ll warm up to each other.”

  “Sounds like a good dating strategy. If you’re lucky, maybe they’ll put out.”

  Ben laughed. “I’ve been playing a little bit after work lately. Just a few holes here and there, trying to get the hang of it. I’m actually pretty good.”

  “I’m not surprised. It’s a good game to know for business. I had to learn a few years ago.”

  She sounded less than thrilled about that, and Ben wondered if there was a story behind it. “I’m playing Tuesday night if you want to join me,” he offered.

  “Thanks, but I’ve got a client meeting.”

  “I’ll be on the Vandermeer Course,” he said, hoping to tempt her. “Normally it takes months to get a tee time there, but I pulled a few strings. If you want to blow off your client meeting—”

  “I don’t,” she said, and her sharp tone seemed to surprise them both. “I mean it’s an important meeting. I make it a policy never to set aside my business interests for someone else’s.”

  “Sorry,” he said, annoyed with himself for ruffling her feathers. “I wasn’t inviting you for business, though. Just for fun.”

  “Everything’s about business,” she said. “Isn’t that why you’re learning to play golf?”

  “True.” Ben glanced over to see her studying him. “What?” he asked as a trickle of self-consciousness dribbled through his veins.

  “I never realized how much you look like your dad.”

  “You’re the second person who’s said that to me this week.”

  “Who was the first?”

  “Parker,” he admitted. “It was after I
showered at the gym, and he pointed out that he’d never seen me comb my hair with anything besides my fingers. Then he grabbed the monogrammed brush my dad gave me and chucked it in the toilet.”

  Holly laughed. “I can’t decide if that’s really sweet or really weird.”

  “Maybe a little of both. Parker’s not a big fan of my father, in case you hadn’t guessed.”

  “Of your father, or of you becoming your father?”

  “All of the above. I think he’s annoyed I blew off another boxing workout to play golf a few days ago.”

  “Huh,” she said, and Ben heard the dark note again in that single syllable.

  “Boxing might be more fun, but golf’s a game I have to master if I’m going to fit in as the CEO of a major corporation.”

  “I suppose so,” she agreed. “Still, if you hate it, there are plenty of other hobbies you can take up in the name of being a well-rounded CEO.”

  “You mean like skirt chasing and day drinking?”

  “Maybe stick with golf. But if I catch you wearing any of those really ugly golf pants, we’re going to have a talk.”

  “Deal.”

  Ben eased the car into a parking space, the same one where he’d parked his old Volvo the last time he’d been here. Had it really been less than two weeks since he’d first met Holly?

  “So how are we playing this?” he asked after he’d switched off the engine and turned to her. “Are you my wife again?”

  “Might as well stick with the original story, right?” She fished into her purse and pulled out the big fake ring she’d donned the first time they’d played this game.

  Ben plucked it from her hand. “May I?”

  “Be my guest.” She stuck out her left hand with a flourish, and Ben slipped the ring on. He didn’t let go of her hand, though.

  “So as your husband, I’m allowed to hold your hand in the store.”

  “Why not?”

  “And maybe kiss you?”

  She smiled. “I suppose that’s part of the act.”

  “And I should probably pat your ass or grab your—”

  “Okay, now you’re just pushing your luck.” She shoved open the car door and got out, and she was still laughing as she leaned back down to peer in at him. “Nice Mercedes, by the way.”

  “Thanks. Nice bra, by the way.” He nodded to where her shirt gaped open. “Blue lace. I like it.”

  “You’re hopeless,” she said without venom as she slammed the car door and started toward the store.

  Ben caught up with her in a few quick strides, and she took his arm without any hesitation. He caught the front door and pulled it open, gesturing her ahead of him. “Ladies first,” he said as he held the door for her.

  “Thank you, honey.”

  “My pleasure, snookiebuns.”

  She rolled her eyes at him, but didn’t resist when he caught her hand in his and pulled her closer. It felt good having her by his side, and not just for the arm-candy effect his father seemed to feel was important. He liked spending time with her and enjoying her company beyond what she could do for his career.

  He gave her hand a squeeze and looked around the store. “Let’s see,” he said. “Where were we the other day?”

  From across the room, he saw the saleswoman he’d met with on his last visit. He watched her eyes light up, and she nearly tripped over her own feet hustling to greet them at the front of the store.

  “Guess she’s eager to get that commission,” Ben murmured.

  “She’s eager to get something, all right,” Holly murmured back.

  “Well hello again!” the woman gushed. “My, my, that’s a wonderful color on you. Really brings out your eyes.” She touched Ben’s shirtsleeve, ignoring Holly completely. If Holly hadn’t pointed out the woman’s barracuda brand of flirtation the last time they were here, Ben wasn’t sure he would have noticed it.

  But he was noticing it now, from the hungry way the woman looked at him, to the dagger glares she kept shooting at Holly. Ben put his arm around Holly, not sure if he was doing it to take charge of the situation or to feel Holly pressed warm and lush against him. Did it matter?

  He extended his free hand to the saleswoman. “Good to see you again, Gloria,” he said, reading her name off the tag she wore pinned to her blouse. “I hope you’ve had a wonderful week?”

  “Yes, it’s been—nice,” she said, returning Ben’s handshake by gripping his hand in both of hers. “It’s so good to see you again. And your wife, too, of course.”

  “Yes, well, Holly here wanted to make sure we came back,” he said. “I thought it would be just as easy to hit another furniture store closer to home, but she insisted you’d been so helpful to us before, so we needed to make sure you got your commission.”

  “Oh, well—” The woman turned to Holly and studied her with a renewed warmth. “That’s very sweet of you.”

  “I try,” Holly said. “My husband’s the real charmer in the family, though.”

  “Yes, I can see that.” The saleswoman looked back at Ben, eyeing him with curiosity. “You seem a little different than the first time you were here.”

  “There’s a slow burn to my charm,” Ben supplied. “Sort of like the boiling point of glycerin at 554 degrees Fahrenheit. Or sulfur at 823. Or—”

  “Right,” Gloria said, turning back to Holly. “So what is it you’re looking for today?”

  “Ben needs a bed. I mean—we both need a bed, of course. We share the same bed, obviously.”

  Ben watched her cheeks flush, surprised to see her so rattled by the flub. He tightened his arm around her, remembering how she’d come to his aid here just a few days ago. It was his turn to be the rescuer.

  “Aw, look at you getting all flustered.” He planted a kiss on her temple. “It’s okay, sweetie. No need to be embarrassed. I’m sure it’s familiar territory for Gloria.”

  Holly looked up at him, slate-flecked eyes wide and perplexed. “What?”

  “There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he said. “I’m sure Gloria’s seen it plenty of times.”

  “Seen what?” Gloria asked, her expression eager.

  “Ever since all that Fifty Shades of Gray business, I’m sure you’ve seen dozens of couples with an urgent need for a new bed,” Ben said, squeezing Holly a little tighter. “Maybe the handcuffs broke the slats on the headboard, or maybe they just need something with a little more room for—well, for some of their new experiences. Am I right?”

  Ben felt Holly’s hand snake into his back pocket and pinch his butt cheek hard. But Gloria was nodding with such enthusiasm she didn’t seem to notice the way he jumped.

  “Yes!” she cried. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve seen that lately. And I wish I had a nickel for every time I’ve caught a customer snaking a necktie through the headboard slats to make sure there’s enough room to tie someone up.”

  “Really?” Holly looked at Ben, her expression more intrigued than horrified.

  He touched his own necktie, stroking a finger over the silk. He almost hadn’t worn one, but if he was here to play the assertive, take-charge CEO, the tie seemed like a necessary part of the costume. Holly’s gaze drifted over his fingers and he wondered what she was thinking. She squirmed a little beneath his arm, then nestled closer.

  “Come on,” Gloria said. “Let me show you some of our sturdier models of bed frames and mattresses. I have some pieces I think the two of you will really enjoy.”

  She winked at Holly, then turned and marched toward the other end of the store. Ben glanced down at Holly, who rolled her eyes at him.

  “Seriously?” she hissed, ducking out from under his arm. “Now we’re bondage fanatics?”

  “What?” he whispered back. “You wanted me to be more assertive. Surely an assertive guy would tie you to the headboard on a regular basis?”

  “If Christian Gray is going to be your model for CEO behavior, I think you seriously need to rethink your plan.”

  “You, my dear, are mos
t definitely not Anastasia.”

  Her eyes widened as she stepped around a desk, her body pressing closer to his as she moved. “Don’t tell me you saw Fifty Shades of Gray.”

  “Of course not. I read the books. Well, the first one, anyway. I wanted to see what was getting women all hot and bothered.”

  “And what did you figure out?”

  “That in addition to not using the book as a model of CEO behavior, I probably shouldn’t use it for sex tips, either.”

  She snorted, then hurried to catch up with Gloria. “And once again, you win the smart guy points.”

  “Those seem to be doing a lot for me lately.”

  “Here we are,” Gloria announced, pivoting in front of a massive four-poster monstrosity with towering hardwood pillars. It was stained a dark red hue that was almost black, and it glistened beneath the showroom lights. Gloria grabbed hold of one of the pillars and gave it a good shake. “This is one of the sturdiest models we carry.”

  Ben looped an arm around Holly again, taking a scenic detour long enough to graze her ass with his palm. “It’s beautiful. What can you tell us about it?”

  “This is our Hillman bed in a California king. It’s solid mahogany with a floating latticework headboard, tapered posts supporting the luxurious canopy. It’s done in a Chinese-Chippendale fashion with solid nickel hardware and a top-of-the-line Tempurpedic mattress set.”

  “I like the drawers underneath,” Holly said, nudging one with the toe of her shoe.

  “Absolutely. Plenty of storage space for sweaters or books or—well, I’m sure you two can come up with plenty of things to store under there.” She gave Holly a knowing look, and Ben did his best to look like a man who might have a full arsenal of whips and handcuffs requiring their own storage space.

  “Are there matching nightstands?” he asked.

  “Certainly. There’s also a matching chest of drawers and a lovely armoire you can see right over there.”

  “What do you think, honey?” Ben turned to Holly, who was surveying the bed with obvious fascination. “How do you like it?”