CHAPTER 12
STUPID ARCTIC MIST.
Chloe was painting again, but all her positivity from yesterday was gone, replaced with pessimism and snarls.
She’d thought the mind-blowing makeup sex had set things right between them, but when she’d woken up twenty minutes ago, it was to find that Ben had snuck out of the condo this morning without a word.
Since she couldn’t leave the wall half-finished, and Saturday was fast-approaching, she’d decided to funnel her anger into manual labor. Chloe had just poured some paint into her tray when the sound of the front door startled her.
She spun to face the entrance, and very few things in the world could have shocked her more than the sight of Ben, unshaven, dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt, double fisting to-go cups from Percolate, the coffee shop down the street.
Her heart gave a little kick before she remembered she was kind of mad at him just then. “I thought you’d gone to work.”
He shrugged. “I’ve got a day off owed to me from the business trip. Figured I might use it today to finish off some home renos.”
God, she was a sucker for stubble. She did her best to keep her stare haughty, but she could feel her anger slipping.
“You want some help?”
“Depends.” Chloe shrugged noncommittally. “You have any painting experience?”
“Nope. But I have coffee, and it’s been brought to my attention recently that I’m very tall.”
Chloe decided conceding with grace had a certain merit. She grabbed the roller and exchanged it for the cup in his left hand. “You’re hired.”
Then an amazing thing happened—as they painted, he started to tell her this really great story about the cabin in the picture she loved, how he and his dad used to make up stories about it while they fished.
Chloe dipped her roller back into the paint tray, deciding whether or not she should probe the subject. Ben had gone silent at the conclusion of his story, and she didn’t want to pry. Especially not after yesterday’s blow-up over the trunk.
But she craved knowledge about the man who stood beside her, and here, side by side, painting the living room a beautiful shade of pale gray-blue and freezing because the fumes required an open window, she was finally quenching some of that curiosity. “How come you don’t have any personal stuff?” Her apartment wasn’t great, but at least it was stamped with her style, her personality. “No pictures, no books, no knickknacks. I mean, it doesn’t even look like you live here. How do you live your whole life without accumulating any junk?”
He glanced around the place like he was seeing it for the first time. “I never really thought about that.” He ran his hand over his face, and she could hear the faint rasp of his stubble beneath his palm. “My dad wasn’t very sentimental, I guess. He was more about looking to the future. I’m kind of the same way, I suppose.”
“What about your mom?”
His muscles tensed. “She’s the reason Dad wasn’t very sentimental.”
“I’m sorry.”
Ben shrugged. “Not your fault.”
“She wasn’t around much, then?”
“Left when I was eight. Haven’t heard from her since.”
Chloe exhaled. “That’s a really shitty thing to do to a kid.”
“Yeah, well, you can’t change the past, right? And my dad, he was great.” Chloe could tell he’d been special, just by Ben’s sad smile. “I mean, he really stepped up. Everything I have, everything I am, is because of him.”
“Sounds like you were close.”
He nodded.
“Can I ask what happened?”
Ben’s roller stuttered on the wall, just the slightest pause and slip. When he spoke, his voice was dull. “He fell off a ladder at work.”
“Oh, my God. Ben. That’s awful! I’m so sorry.”
“It was just a freak accident. The rung broke while he was standing on it.” Ben lowered the roller, bracing the pole on the floor beside him. “He was a janitor at a big high-rise downtown. He was washing windows, something he’d done a thousand times before. And then he was just gone.”
He was quiet for a long moment.
“How old were you?” she asked.
He started at the sound of her voice, as if he’d just come back from somewhere else. “I was in my second year of college, heading toward a business degree so I could get into advertising. He was really proud that I was going to make something of myself.” Ben smiled, but it wobbled a bit. “That’s what he always said, ‘Ben, you’re gonna make something of yourself.’” Ben shoved his roller into the paint and set about erasing another section of beige. “He would’ve liked you, though,” he said without looking at her.
Chloe shook her head. The compliment was too big for her to fathom.
“He would have,” Ben insisted. “He prized confidence and speaking one’s mind very highly. He always told it like it was. I think you two would have really hit it off.”
Now it was Chloe’s turn to be silent. She needed a minute to take that in.
“I’m sorry I went into that trunk without your permission, Ben.”
He shrugged. “I was just surprised. I haven’t seen that stuff in quite a while. I wasn’t prepared.”
Chloe understood that now. But she wanted to explain. “It felt like a treasure chest, you know? I mean, I thought it was so cool that you had all this stuff, all these reminders of the people you love and the people who loved you. I never considered for a moment that you wouldn’t want those memories.”
She’d finished the lower part of the wall, and she figured Ben would be done in a few more strokes of the roller. She stepped back to take in their handiwork.
“You must have the same.”
“No, actually,” she confessed, and Ben glanced over his shoulder at her.
“I don’t have those kind of memories with my dad. He was always working. Still is. Sometimes I realize that I barely know him. I definitely don’t have any pictures like these.” She ran a hand across the top of the frame that held the shot of the Masterson men fishing. “All of our family photos are stiff and formal and taken by very expensive photographers.”
Ben lowered his roller from the finished wall. “Different worlds, huh?”
“Completely.”
They both turned their attention to the wall. It looked even better than she’d imagined, but her current feeling of satisfaction had nothing to do with arctic mist. “Pretty good, huh?”
Ben nodded. “It’s growing on me. Chloe?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you busy tonight?”
“No.”
“How would you like to go to a birthday party with me?”
* * *
“YOU SURE YOU’RE OKAY?” Ben was staring at her with concern, the apple pie he’d picked up at the amazing bakery near their place—his place, she corrected herself—balanced on one hand as they made their way up the sidewalk to Oz’s house.
“I’m great,” she lied, motioning toward the jacked-up red Toyota Tundra parked at the curb. “I’m still hung up on the fact that’s your vehicle, Masterson. A Lexus? Yes. A Beamer? Sure. But a pick-up? I wouldn’t have guessed that in a million years.”
Ben glanced back at it. “What’s wrong with my truck?”
“The truck is fine. You seem a little too city to be driving it, that’s all.”
He scoffed at her summation, and she returned his eyeroll as she ran her hands down her stomach ostensibly smoothing a wrinkle in her coat. In truth, she was trying to calm the raging herd of butterflies in combat boots that had taken over her stomach.
Meeting the friends. It felt like a big deal. It was a big deal.
She’d agreed in a moment of extreme weakness. He’d just told her about his father, they’d had a nice day painting, and she’d been blinded by the intimacy of it all.
A party? Sure, I’ll go to a party with you.
By the time she’d found out it was a party for a five-year-old and they’d be the only adults there save for his oldest and dearest friend and his wife, she’d been trapped.
She glanced down at her left hand—at Ben’s grandmother’s wedding ring, for God’s sake!—its symbolic weight tethering her to a man she had nothing in common with.
They ascended the front steps and before she knew it, Ben was knocking on the door. Chloe took a deep breath and pulled the ring off her left hand, transferring it to her right. An attempt to keep a little perspective before she went down the rabbit hole.
The door opened to reveal a lovely, fresh-faced redhead with the harried look of a mother—a look that said she’d just handled about twenty things before appearing before them. Her slightly frizzy curls were scraped back from her face in a ponytail, and she wore jeans, slippers and a purple sweatshirt with a big, gold W on the front. Obviously a proud University of Washington alum. Her face lit up when she recognized her guests—well, one of them—and she pushed open the screen.
“We brought grown-up dessert.” Ben raised the pie as proof.
“You are a saint, Ben.” She relieved him of his delicious burden. “You know how much I hate confetti cupcakes. How come I didn’t marry you instead of Oz?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s because I didn’t ask you.”
“Right. How gallant of you to remind me. And why was that again?”
“Couldn’t do it. My best friend was in love with you, and you remember the rule, Jilly: bros before hos.”
The woman’s laughter was full-bodied and infectious; Chloe liked her immediately.
“Well, if that’s the case then we hos need to stick together. You must be Chloe. I’m Jill, Seth’s wife. Please come in. And watch out for beads. There was a necklace-making catastrophe earlier, and they keep rolling out of nowhere and attacking people’s feet, no matter how much I vacuum.” She shut the door behind them. “I guess I should be thankful it was beads. The last calamity involved an ant farm.”
“Uncle Ben! You’re here!”
Two of the cutest children Chloe had ever seen raced in out of nowhere, and Jill used the distraction to disappear into the kitchen with the pie.
“There they are! How’re my girls?” Ben reached down to scoop the youngest into his arm. Her bright red curls, just like her mom’s, glowed around a face full of freckles. The older girl had tucked herself against Ben’s leg, and his hand rested protectively against her shoulder. Her brown hair was also curly, but the ringlets were far more subdued than her sister’s—just like her personality.
“We missed you!”
“Aw, I missed you guys, too. Chloe, meet Laura and Ragamuffin.”
The girl in his arms giggled. “Uncle Beh-en. My name is Amy.”
“Oh, right. Amy. I keep forgetting that!”
Chloe couldn’t help but smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Amy. I’m Chloe.”
“I’m five today,” Amy announced, holding up the requisite number of fingers.
“That’s right! I heard there was a birthday girl in the house,” Ben said. He looked down as Laura tugged on his pants.
“Uncle Ben,” Laura whispered, her green eyes large as she motioned for him to bend down. Cupping her hand to his ear, she leaned close to impart her secret.
Ben’s resulting smile tugged at Chloe’s heart. “So do I. Why don’t you tell her so? I think she’d be happy to hear that.”
Shyly, Laura turned to Chloe. “I like your hair.”
Startled, Chloe’s gaze bounced from Laura’s to Ben’s, then back to Laura’s. “Oh. Thanks.” She recovered with a smile. “I... I like yours, too. I always wanted curly hair.” The little girl smiled, revealing that the tooth fairy must have visited her recently, before she hid her face against Ben’s coat.
“All right, who wants to try to defeat me at Candyland?” he said.
“I do, I do!” and “Me, me, me!” got all jumbled up as Laura and Amy vied for his attention. He bent down and set Amy on the linoleum.
“Okay, you ladies go get the game set up and I will be in after I say hi to your mom and dad. Deal?”
“Deal!” they shouted, scampering off toward the living room. Ben reached into the front closet and grabbed a hanger, motioning for Chloe to hand him her coat, which she did.
“Smells good,” he called to Jill as he hung up her coat, then divested himself of his own and gave it the same treatment.
“Oz not back yet?”
“He texted after the game ended. I’m expecting him in about ten minutes.”
“Cool. Did you need any help?”
Jill shook her head. “I’ve got things under control. But thanks.”
“Then if you’ll excuse me, I have a Candyland grudge-match to attend to. Winner takes all. Coming?” Ben asked her, and his smile was so inviting that Chloe thought she might follow him anywhere.
“Forget it.” Jill jumped in. “I need news of the outside world! No way am I letting you steal away my adult company. Chloe’s staying in the kitchen with me.”
“Okay, but don’t let her start on the pie.” Chloe made a face but he’d already headed into the other room.
“Ben’s really great with your girls.”
Jill smiled and led Chloe deeper into the kitchen. “Yeah, they love him. You can put your purse here,” she offered as they passed a small table littered with spelling tests and mail. “But enough about Ben. I love my kids and all, but I can’t tell you how excited I am by the prospect of a little adult conversation with someone who doesn’t have children. Are bars still as fun as I remember? What’s it like not to have to schedule sex? In my foggy memories, it seemed hot, but my practical mom brain is having a hard time with the logistics of shaving. I mean, do you have to do it every day? Just in case? Because I’m not sure if that’s worth it.”
Chloe laughed, settling onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar.
Jill stood on the opposite side of the kitchen island, ripping into a bag of croutons and sprinkling them onto a Caesar salad. “Watch out for plum sauce before you touch the counter. The girls had chicken fingers earlier.”
Dutifully, Chloe ran a hand over the Formica in front of her and, deeming it safe, rested her sweater-covered elbow on it. “The girls already ate? I thought this was Amy’s birthday party.”
“Today is her birthday, but she’s not having friends over until Saturday. To be honest, Oz just wanted to meet you, but he’s a big chicken, so instead of inviting you over, he used Amy’s birthday as an excuse. He’s been like that since the seventh grade.”
“You met your husband in middle school?”
Jill nodded. “Sure did. Ben, too. Seth and I started dating when I turned fifteen, and that is the end of that very short story. But it’s how I know that you might just be the first thing Ben’s ever kept secret from Oz. That worries him. It means you’re different.”
The sudden panic burrowing in her gut must have showed on her face because Jill laughed.
“That was a no-pressure statement,” Jill assured her, pulling on some oven mitts that looked like frogs. “I heard you two haven’t known each other long. To be honest, I’m just glad I got the chance to meet you.” She reached into the oven and turned the lasagna around before placing a couple of foil-covered bags of garlic bread on the rack beside it.
“Ben hasn’t been around much lately, but even when he came consistently, he was never one to bring a lady friend. Said he didn’t want to subject my girls to the instability. How adorable is that?” she asked, closing the door and pulling the heat-resistant amphibians off her hands. “He hasn’t come to the house with a woman in ages—not since the engagement was called off.”
Chloe’s head snapped up. “Ben was engaged?” Her body tingled and a wave of numbness washed over her, like she’d been dosed with a shot of Novocain.
Jill bit her lip. “Crap. He didn’t tell you. I just thought, because of the ring...”
Chloe shook her head, hating that she glanced at her left hand first. When she looked up again, Jill seemed to be in the midst of an internal battle. Her shoulders sagged as she made her decision.
“Okay, you didn’t hear this from me, but now that I’ve let the cat out of the bag... Her name was Melanie. She’s a lawyer. Nice enough—a little uppity, but she tried. I don’t think a high school chemistry teacher and a dental hygienist were quite impressive enough for her taste, but Ben seemed to like her, so I gave her a chance. Then she left Ben for some old guy with a lot of money. Ben’s been knocking himself out climbing the corporate ladder ever since.”
“I, uh. Wow.”
Jill nodded. “Pretty pivotal moment, I guess. And I’m sure it’s the main reason Seth is so intent on checking you out for himself.”
The sudden sound of a door banging open stole their attention. “Is that lasagna I smell?”
Jill smiled brightly. “Speak of the devil. Welcome home, hon. How was the tournament?”
“Not bad. Came in third. I’ll fill you in after, since I saw Ben’s truck out front. Oh, hey.”
Oz stepped into the kitchen. He was nothing like she’d imagined. Decent-looking, but he was a bit baby-faced and in the beginning stages of male-pattern baldness. Not the fit, cocky executive type she’d been expecting of Ben’s best friend. Just a normal guy.
“Chloe, right?”
She nodded.
“Interesting hair.”
Jill’s head snapped around and she glared at her husband.
Still, Chloe smiled sweetly, despite the implied insult. “Thanks. Oz, right?”
He nodded, a little warily if she wasn’t mistaken.
“Interesting name. Your mom spent some time in the back of the Black Sabbath tour bus? Dad was a closet Judy Garland fan?”
She was prepared for eye daggers, but instead Oz broke into hearty laughter. “It’s Seth Osbourne, actually, but I like the way you handled that. Test passed. Where have you been all Ben’s life?”
“What?”
“I’m gonna be straight with you, Chloe, because I know my wife has already told you about Melanie.” He sent Jill a sidelong glance, but she kept her gaze focused on the utensil drawer as she counted out forks and knives. “Ben and I have been friends since the third grade, and I’ve never seen someone mess with his head the way Melanie did. Then he says that he’s fake married to some woman he met on a plane, and I feel the need to vet her. But I understand why he likes you. So, unless there comes a time when I have to take sides between you, we’re cool.”
Now it was Chloe’s turn to laugh. He might not look like he and Ben ran in the same circles, but Chloe no longer had any doubts that they were soul mates. “All right then. I accept your terms.”
“Great. How much longer until dinner?”
Jill glanced at the oven timer. “Fifteen minutes.”
“See you then. If I know my girls, I’ve got a Candyland game to win.” Oz headed for the living room.
“It’s time for pjs!” she called after him, and he saluted her without breaking stride. Jill shot Chloe a droll look. “So you can appreciate why I had to lock that down back in high school. Can you even imagine the bidding war if he was still single?”
* * *
“GOT ROOM FOR one more?”
Ben glanced up as Oz sauntered into the room in his usual coaching uniform—khakis and a school-logoed polo shirt.
“Daddy, you can be on my team!” Laura’s invitation came with a hug as she hopped up and ran over to greet Oz.
“All right, pumpkin. But first, Mommy wants you two to get into your pajamas. Then you can come back down and we’ll finish the game and have cupcakes, okay?”
“But Daddy, I’m winning!” Laura protested.
“And you’ll still be winning when you’re in your pajamas,” Oz assured her, reaching out a hand to help Amy out of Ben’s lap. “Up we go, Carrot-Girl.” He gave each of his girls a kiss and shooed them up the stairs.
Silence settled in their absence, and Oz scraped a hand through his hair with a loud exhale before grabbing a seat.
“So I met your lady.”
“She’s not so much my lady as my fake wife.”
Oz shot him an unimpressed look. “Whatever, Benny. I saw the ring. Fool yourself if you must, but don’t try to fool me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” The problem with friends you’d known your whole life was that they’d known you just as long. And they weren’t shy about pointing out things you weren’t quite ready to admit.
“It means that your grandma’s ring isn’t something that you give away lightly. I seem to remember four agonizing months of back-and-forth on whether you were even willing to give it to the woman you asked to marry you for real. You’re like Gollum with that ring, always have been. So the fact you handed it over to Chloe after a day? That means something. Don’t act as if it doesn’t.”
“Whatever, man. I told you. We got caught post-coital by a client and I panicked and said we were married to save face. We needed a ring fast so we could make it to breakfast on time.”
“Bullshit, moneybags. You probably had a bunch of options. Hotel jewelry store, she coulda borrowed something from one of her relatives. Hell, I’ll bet you didn’t even ask Chloe if she had something that could pass before you had that ring on her finger.”
Ben snapped his mouth shut, hoping the color crawling up his neck wasn’t as red as it felt. That wasn’t how it had gone down. Not exactly. He liked Chloe, sure, but he wasn’t...they weren’t...
“Your dad woulda liked her,” Oz said softly.
Hearing Oz echo the words he’d said earlier sucked the oxygen out of his lungs.
“And more importantly, so do I.” Oz bowed his head. “You may proceed.”
The jab of humor let the air back in the room, and Ben reached for it like a life preserver. “I appreciate that, since your approval means everything to me.”
“I’m glad because I would be happy to dole out more approval if you’ll come out to the garage and help me change out my broken taillight. I’m hoping your delicate fingers will have better luck where my manly hands have failed.”
“Sure...right after I kick your ass at Candyland.”
“Oh, them’s fightin’ words, Benny-boy.” Oz got off his chair and joined Ben beside the game board on the carpet. “Hand me that green gingerbread man.”