Why don't you Stay ... Forever - Jennifer Ashley Page 0,17

driveway and watch him back out and roll away. I wave until his truck is out of sight, though it’s too dark for him to see me.

The house feels empty when I go back inside, but different as well. Serene. A new warmth has entered it. I straighten up the kitchen and go to bed, but I don’t sleep. I think of Ben, lying in his own house a couple miles away, turn my face to the pillow where he slept, and sigh in contentment.

I walk into work Monday morning a little flustered. I arrive early as I always do to unlock the doors and turn on the lights. I make coffee in the break room then check the company’s phone and email messages. I’ll deliver each message to the appropriate McLaughlin when they arrive, except for the generic questions I can now answer myself.

I like my job. It’s not glamorous, and it won’t make me rich and famous, but there’s something satisfying about helping out at McLaughlin Renovations. The family is easy to work with, and they’re nice to me. The brothers have their own light squabbles, but they manage to keep things professional at work, and they appreciate what I do.

I don’t want to ruin a good thing. Plus, I need the paycheck, because while dance is wonderful and fulfilling, Clarice can’t pay us lavishly, and the cost of living is fairly high. Everyone in the company has a day job.

I struggle to keep my concentration on my computer and the phone and not worry about how I’ll act when Ben gets here.

Austin breezes in, greeting me cheerfully on his way to coffee. Ryan arrives, looking relaxed—no doubt due to what the newlyweds did all weekend. I smile to myself as I return his “Good morning.”

Zach and Abby rush in slightly late, flushed and breathless. I give Abby a wink as she sails by, and she laughs. Zach clears his throat and dives into his office.

I don’t see Ben. Maybe he decided not to come in today. My heart beats faster. If not, why not?

But perhaps it’s better we don’t see each other right away. We can take a step back, figure out how we feel about this past weekend. Maybe it was just a weekend, and we’ll move on.

My mouth goes dry. I don’t want to move on. I want to see Ben. Talk to him. Even if we only say hello.

“Hey.”

I shriek and jump a foot out of my chair. When I land again, Ben is beside me, on my side of the reception desk.

He gives me a baffled look from under hair that needs trimming. “What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t see you come in. I thought you were staying home today.”

“I used the back door. I was carrying in some new equipment.”

“Oh.”

My wild speculations and fears suddenly seem stupid. Ben pulls up the extra chair behind my desk, just as he does whenever he’s come to give me a computer lesson.

I scoot closer to him, inhaling his clean scent—soap and toothpaste, no aftershave or cologne. I start to say hello more politely when his mom wafts in and pauses by the desk.

“There you are, Ben,” Virginia says. She’s a trim woman in her late fifties, her face retaining the beauty I’ve seen in her wedding photos from nearly forty years ago. Her hair is dark like Austin’s, her eyes the blue of all her sons. “I was just about to ask if you’ll start training Erin on the orders software. She’s ready for that, I think.”

I warm with her praise—I like that Virginia trusts me more and more with the business. I hope she can hire me on permanently, and that me boinking one of her sons won’t change her mind.

Ben and I keep our faces straight until Virginia scoops up her messages, sails into her office, and closes the door. Then we both burst into quiet laughter.

“Software training,” I choke out. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“Seems as good a term as any.”

We go quiet. Ben isn’t in a hurry to grab my mouse and start darting the cursor around the screen. My setup is pretty basic—in Ben’s office he has multiple screens, racks of computers, the latest tablets, and gadgets I don’t even recognize. At my desk it’s monitor, keyboard, and mouse.

My chair squeaks, and I quickly still myself.

“So,” I ask softly. “Is it awkward?”

Ben’s voice is as hushed as mine. “Why does it have to be awkward?”

Because we’ve slept together.