The quiet receptionist had glorious sex with the introverted IT guy, and we both work for IT guy’s parents.
“I don’t know,” I admit.
“What’s up, peeps?” Austin strides out, coffee in hand, to attack the mail stacked on the counter. “Wild weekend, Erin? Missed you at the family Sunday dinner yesterday. Hoped you’d be there so I’d have someone to talk to besides the besotted couples. Ben ditched too …”
Austin peers over the high counter at us, sitting close together, looking up at him in trepidation. He stares at us a moment, his mouth falling open as he puts the pieces together. He takes a breath … and lets it out again.
“Okaayy.” Austin, who prides himself on being the best-looking McLaughlin with his dark hair and blue eyes, taps his wad of mail on the counter. “So, I’ll just be walking away now.”
He moves from the desk in slow, deliberate steps, exaggerating a casual walk. When he reaches the middle of the showroom, be begins to whistle, which he keeps up all the way to his office. The door clicks shut.
Ben huffs a laugh. “All right, so it’s awkward.”
“What do we do?” I whisper.
He leans closer. “We play it cool.”
I don’t know how I can play it cool when his breath ruffles my hair and he kisses me below the ear. I want to turn to him, grab him, rip off his clothes, and make wild, passionate love to him under the desk.
Imagining it makes me laugh. Ben laughs with me, and soon have our arms over our stomachs, half falling out of our chairs. I wave my hand in front of my face.
“Stop, stop, stop. Show me ordering. You’re supposed to be …”
We laugh again, and can’t cease. Abby is heading out, and pauses at the desk. The diamond on her third finger sparkles.
“You two sound happy,” Abby says, interested. “What’s the joke?”
I shake my head, and Ben wipes his eyes. “No joke,” he says. “Just … um … a software thing.”
Abby starts to shrug, then she, like Austin, hesitates. I know I’m turning all shades of red, and then I fear there’s a hickey on my neck from where Ben suckled it last night. I think I’d have noticed it when dressing this morning though. Wouldn’t I?
I self-consciously put my hand on my throat, pretending I’m cupping my chin. Ben doesn’t help, because he’s red too, staring hard at the computer screen, which is blank, the McLaughlin logo floating around the black background.
Abby straightens. “Well,” she says with exaggerated brightness. “I’m off to a radio station downtown. Ad meeting. Be back after lunch.”
“Okay.” I quickly make a note. “Good luck.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Abby looks us over one more time, then strolls out, high heels clicking.
Ben and I gaze at each other. “Don’t you dare start laughing.” I point at him. “We’ll never get anything done today.”
“Somehow, I don’t really care.” Ben leans back, hands behind his head.
“Should we tell them?” I approach the question with caution.
“Tell who what?”
I fold my fingers into my palms. “Your family. That we’re …”
Having fantastic sex? Dating? That’s a tame word for this weekend. And was it a one-time thing? I have no idea. Ben isn’t the type who lays out exactly what he’s thinking. Reuben had simply moved in with me and hadn’t budged from my house until he found another job. I realized after he left he’d been simply mooching off me.
Ben is far more independent, with a nice place of his own. A family he’s close to. I’m the interloper. Abby and Calandra have been friends of the family a long time, with past histories with Zach and Ryan.
“No.” Ben’s abrupt word cuts into my thoughts.
“No, what?”
“I don’t want to tell them.” Ben brings his hands down, the chair rocking forward as he leans close. “I want this between us, for now. My family can be seriously nosy.”
That was an understatement. Nothing happened but all the brothers, and Alan and Virginia, soon knew about it. Great Aunt Mary knew whatever everyone else didn’t. It was uncanny how gossip whipped around the family.
“Want to have lunch?” Ben’s next question drags my attention to him.
I glance quickly at the clock on my desk. “It’s nine-thirty.”
A chuckle. “I mean at lunch. Want to go grab something?”
“Yes.” The word leaves my mouth with enthusiasm. Then, dismay. “No, I can’t.”
Ben blinks. “I like that you can surprise me.”
“I already promised a friend I’d meet her for lunch. You met her, in the scrum. Ida—she’s a dancer. She’s the