felt a lot like basking in holy light. Rare, warm, and stupefying. The obnoxious ring of a cell phone crashed through the room, breaking the moment.
He rolled his eyes. “Just a second.”
Grateful for the chance to recover my wits, I ran a hand through my hair and peered out the far window on the other side of the desk. A reflection of a rectangular light, like a tablet, and a slight shuffle of pink, caught me by surprise. It looked like it was under the desk if I understood the backward reflection correctly.
Was that . . . was there someone under the desk?
Benjamin spoke into the phone in monosyllables, his back to me. I almost walked over there to see who hid, but a little shock caught me by surprise when I heard a quiet voice say, “Who was it?”
Benjamin replied in a quiet murmur as he shut the phone off, then frowned as he looked at the screen again.
Instead of gasping, I yanked my hair out of my high ponytail. It spilled down my shoulders and relieved a sudden banging in my head. Or maybe that was just the clanging of alarms.
Did he have a kid?
In all my months of pretending not to watch his every move, I'd never seen a little girl. Had I?
A little pang hit my chest. I missed little kids. Mom had run a daycare out of our house for the entire eighteen years that I lived at home. There had always been chaos and children and messes and grubby hands and sticky goods. Without it, everything seemed a bit empty. I wanted to walk over there and talk to her, but I had a feeling Benjamin would lock up the very tight, minuscule sliver of friendliness this had opened up between us. The questions ran rampant through my mind anyway.
Why keep her hidden back there?
How old was she?
Where was her mom?
Was she even his?
He complicated my questions by returning, so I hastily yanked my hair out of the way again. He stopped several feet away with an apologetic expression.
“Sorry.”
“No problem.” My arms dropped back to my side. I tilted my head back that way. “Do you need to go?”
“No, we can finish.” He ran a hand through his hair, and I caught a glimpse of a tattoo on his left bicep. “Where were we?”
You were hugging me and whispering in my ear and I think we should start there again, I thought.
“You had mentioned a side headlock?”
“Oh, right.”
With a shake of his head that seemed intended to get his mind back into the game, he proceeded with instruction. Seeing him a bit distracted by the call made him seem even less godlike, and I relaxed. Instead of focusing on the fact that Benjamin Mercedy was touching me, I tried to picture Talmage coming at me in the darkness again. The unhinged desperation. The wild strength I didn't know he had in him, shoulder injury or not. It brought a ferocity out of me that I hadn't been aware of before.
By the time we finished, I felt surprisingly more confident. Benjamin moved fast as lightning, but treated me like a piece of delicate china. He never once jostled too hard or touched me without asking. At least I'd had a chance to practice the moves, and I made a mental note to buy a lanyard for my keys. Painful weapon, indeed.
“You got this.” He nodded once as the lesson faded to an end. “Really. You have natural confidence. Just let it show more and stay aware.”
No, don't let me go! my heart cried. Keep me locked in those arms forever!
“Thanks,” I said instead. “I feel like dinner isn't enough for taking up an extra hour of your time, especially so late. Can I do anything else? I mean, you potentially saved my life tonight.”
He waved that off. “I'm glad to help. And if you ever need anything else, just let me know. Hand me your phone? I'll put my number in.”
“Really?”
He nodded again.
“Ah . . . well. Thanks.”
With a hesitation I couldn't explain, but probably had something to do with the child under the desk, I handed the phone over. Such an offer felt like an egg about to hatch. Trembling, fragile, and quaking in my hands, I wasn't sure what would come of it. Could be beautiful, could be terrible, but the gamble was half the fun.
Just being a gentleman, I told myself to talk down the excited squeal. Benjamin. Mercedy. In. My. Phone.
Seconds