Chapter 20

20

The town car that took Lauren from her hotel to the house where they were shooting in Malibu arrived to pick her up at five thirty in the morning. It was an ungodly hour, but Lauren had been glad for the distraction in a way.

Twenty times the night before she had promised herself that she wasn't going to obsess about the future with Ben. Twenty times she'd broken that promise. On her way to what could very well be their very last out-of-town shoot, she'd made up her mind once and for all that she was simply going to appreciate the day for what it was.

She wasn't going to torture herself by thinking about whether or not she could relive this magical experience on a regular basis if the show got picked up. She was merely going to enjoy it while it lasted, live in gratitude for what she had, and savor the time with Ben while she had it. That is what she made up her mind to do.

Yeah, right.

Asking Lauren not to obsess about the future was like asking a butterfly not to flutter. She knew very well that she was going to spend all day worrying about what the future held with Ben. But, at the very least, she would try to keep it in the back of her mind. The early hour would help with that. A large chunk of her brain would be devoted to the task of seeming alert and awake, which would serve to keep her from dwelling on these more complex problems.

As the town car had driven her through the streets of Los Angeles, she'd looked at the big city buildings out the window and marveled.

She'd been in a big city before—she had lived in New York for years before moving back to Hope Falls. And LA might be a lot of things, but in the "impressively and visually urban" department, it was severely lacking when compared to the Big Apple.

So it wasn't that she was dazzled by the urban splendor of the big city. It was the natural comparison she drew between what was sitting before her now and what she saw every day in Hope Falls that made her realize how much her life had truly changed in the past six months.

She wouldn't trade it for the world.

Sure, the city had its allure, as all cities everywhere do. But could the hustle and bustle and neon lights compare with the thrill of unexpectedly running into a friend from elementary school shopping on Main Street? Could the frenetic pace of any city compare to the closeness of the people she loved living all around her in their tiny town?

She smiled. Never.

If her real estate agent friends from New York could see her in Hope Falls, in her tiny office with her part-time receptionist who didn't do much more than file and get coffee, on the sidewalks that were made of planks, and the only restaurant in town a small café that closed at nine on a Friday, they would probably pity her. She pitied them.

Now, Lauren's mind wandered as she sat in the makeup chair. She kept glancing up every time the door to the trailer opened, expecting to see Ben come walking in, but he never did. That's odd, she thought. But maybe he's in wardrobe before makeup today.

When she went to wardrobe, Barbara and Marlene said that they hadn't seen him yet today. Lauren started to feel a little concerned when she saw the tightening around their eyes, the slightly worried looks they exchanged, obviously trying to hide their concern from her.

Lauren went back to her trailer to wait to be called to set. She felt unsettled. Was Ben here and avoiding her? Was that why Barbara and Marlene didn't want to look her in the eye?

It seemed unlikely.

After an hour of sitting in her trailer and waiting to be called, Lauren's vague sense of dread blossomed into a full-blown panic. This was wrong. This was so wrong.

Even when Ben was trying his damnedest to ignore her existence, she would've at least seen him around. They were now running officially an hour behind schedule—not Ben's style at all—and she hadn't seen hide nor hair of Ben all morning.

This. Was. Wrong.

Because Lauren's philosophy was to face trouble head on rather than hide from it, even if it was bad news, she decided to go looking for someone who might know the reason for their delay and Ben's absence.

She walked out of her trailer and, to her shock, found the place almost deserted. This was unprecedented in the time she'd been working on the show. If there was one thing that every single one of the sets had in common, it was the almost constant buzz of activity that characterized the day-to-day production.

Between the director, producers, PAs, craft services, hair, makeup, wardrobe, talent...there were always dozens of people busily bustling about their work at all times of day.

Not now.

Only a few people here and there were wandering around, and they were not rushing with the urgency that usually characterized their movements, but rather in a relaxed manner that indicated no deadline or time clock attached to the tasks they were completing.

With purpose, Lauren walked up to a PA who was gathering up paper plates and empty Styrofoam coffee cups and dropping them into a garbage bag. She touched the girl's shoulder.

"Excuse me," Lauren said, trying to keep the urgency out of her tone. "What's going on? Where is Ben?"

The PA looked up in surprise, and then her forehead wrinkled with consternation. "Didn't anyone tell you?" the PA said in surprise.

Lauren waited, assuming that the girl would continue and fill her in on whatever it was someone was supposed to have told her, but she realized after an uncomfortably long silence that apparently the girl was going to wait for an answer to her question before she shared any information of her own.

Trying to force as much patience in her voice as she possibly could, Lauren said, "No, no one told me. What is it that they were supposed to have told me?"

"Oh, wow," said the PA, looking uncomfortable. "Someone definitely should've told you. That was definitely someone's job. But it wasn't mine. But someone's head is definitely gonna roll... I swear to God, someone was supposed to tell you..."

Lauren, still trying to maintain her calm and even tone, but finding it more and more difficult, said, "Well, we can actually rectify that situation right now if you would just tell me whatever information it is that obviously did not get delivered to me earlier."

The PA's forehead wrinkled again. "Huh?"

Lauren closed her eyes, doing her level best to keep a lid on both her anger and her fear. "Please just tell me what is going on," she said slowly and deliberately.

The PA brightened. "Oh, right, sure. We're not shooting today. We're gonna have to make it up tomorrow."

Lauren nodded, waiting for the girl to go on. She didn't.

Lauren took a deep breath, reminding herself not to let it out in a rush, lest it sound like a sigh and make the girl more nervous, thereby delaying her eventual retelling of whatever she knew.

"Do you know why?"

The girl nodded as if it were obvious. "Oh yeah," she said. "Because Ben's at the hospital."

Lauren felt her knees weaken and feared she might faint. Ben was in the hospital. Her mind raced with horrific possibilities. A heart attack. A car accident. She didn't even want to let it wander further.

"Where?" she asked weakly.

"What?" asked the PA. "I couldn't hear you."

Lauren stood up straighter and forced strength in her voice. "I asked where. Where is Ben?"

The PA shrugged. "Cedars-Sinai I think."

Lauren was now past even trying to keep the urgent tension from her voice. "What room?"

The PA set down the garbage bag she was carrying and picked up a clipboard that was lying on the table she'd been collecting debris from. She ran her finger down the paper, consulting a list.

"Looks like room two twenty-one," she said.

Before the girl had fully raised her head to look up, Lauren had spun on her heel and was running out towards the front of the house, where she expected the town car to be waiting in the driveway. She yelled her thanks over her shoulder but didn't wait to hear the girl's acknowledgement.

To her dismay, when she got out of the driveway, there was no town car.

After a moment's consideration, she realized that, since the shoot was canceled for the day, someone must've sent the town car home.

Probably, she thought with a grimace, the same person who was responsible for letting me know that we were done and I was free to go.

Rather than trying to figure out what happened with the town car or if there was any chance of calling it back, Lauren simply pulled her smartphone out of her bag, Googled "cab company Malibu," and pressed the button to dial the phone number for the first result that came up.

Trying to keep her panic under control and out of her voice so that she wouldn't sound like a crazy person to the dispatcher, she gave her address and asked for a cab to be sent as soon as humanly possible.

Within ten minutes, a yellow cab pulled up in front of the house and Lauren ran to it and dove into the back seat.

"Cedars-Sinai," she said breathlessly.

"Are you having emergency, ma'am?" asked the driver, looking concerned.

"Um, yes," Lauren said. A panic attack qualified as an emergency, right?

"You should call an ambulance," the driver said, looking even more concerned—most likely about possible litigation. "An ambulance is much safer."

"Just drive," Lauren said forcefully, and the man—possibly seeing the steely determination in her eyes and deciding that he would rather fight her later in court than now in the car—stepped on the gas.

It took about an hour, all told, to get from the beach mansion in Malibu to Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, and Lauren sat in the back of the cab the entire time, oblivious to the dazzling ocean view outside her window. Oblivious to everything, in fact, but her desperate burning hope that Ben was okay.

She took out her phone a couple of times, thinking that it might feel better to call one of the Fabulous Four. Each in turn, she scrolled to them in her list of contacts and almost pressed the button to call them but didn't.

She thought if she heard their beloved, familiar voices—so concerned for her, as they obviously would be—she would absolutely fall apart. She felt like she could stay strong in the face of anything but kindness.

And she had to be strong now. She had to be strong for Ben.

Lauren didn't fall apart. She didn't go to pieces. She didn't have hysterics. That just wasn't who she was.

Except for the people in her life she cared about, those close to her. They were her Achilles' heel. They were her only weakness. Worry and fear over their safety and wellbeing was the only thing that could bring her carefully guarded control, tumbling down to the ground in pieces in mere moments.

She couldn't fall victim to that here. She didn't have the luxury. She didn't know what was wrong with Ben, but she did know that he might need her, and she knew that if he needed her, then she needed to be there. No question, no debate, and certainly no falling apart. She needed to be strong for Ben.

When the taxi arrived at the hospital and pulled up in front of the long walkway that led to the double glass entrance doors, she threw a wad of cash at him without even waiting to hear the total and jumped out of the car, sprinting towards the doors.

She assumed by the fact that she didn't hear his voice calling after her, but rather tires squealing as he quickly pulled away, that she'd given him more than enough—probably far, far too much. But she didn't care. Not one little bit.

She barely registered the whoosh sound the doors made as she hurried through them, forcing herself to slow to a brisk walk.

She walked up to the information counter and asked where room two twenty-one was, mentally noting the directions the volunteer gave her, and then set off at a rapid pace to find the room.

When she finally located it, she rushed in the door, knowing that she was wild-eyed but unable to calm her nerves, only to see Ben looking very shocked to see her—but he wasn't the patient in bed.

No.

He was sitting in a folding chair beside the same girl she'd seen him go into his hotel room with, and in the bed lay an older woman who looked very thin and frail.

Lauren stopped in her tracks. The scene was not computing, and she tried to process what she was seeing.

The room was silent except for her labored breathing.

The woman in the bed turned her head to see the visitor that had just slammed her way into the room and a small smile crossed her face.

"You must be Lauren," she said, and the weakness in her voice belied the spryness of spirit her twinkling eyes revealed. "Since my son has obviously lost his manners, let me introduce myself. I'm Alana, Ben's mom, and this is Ben's sister Brianna."

Lauren still couldn't find words.

Ben was okay.

Nothing had happened to him.

So why did she suddenly feel like she was going to cry?

---~---

Ben couldn't have been more surprised if it was the Pope who'd just burst through the doors of his mother's hospital room.

He was trying to put it all together, Lauren standing here in the same room with his siste r and mother .

The setting was so surreal. Was he imagining her or had he just entered some kind of alternate universe. Either of those explanations seemed more plausible than what appeared to be reality. The theme to the The Twilight Zone began playing in his mind.

Through his altered state he heard mother say something and saw Lauren's eyes fill with tears. Seeing her upset was like getting dunked in ice cold water, snapping him out of his shock.

"Lauren?" He heard the strain in his voice as he stood to cross the room and pulled her into a hug.

He felt her tears on his shoulder, and he drew back to look at her.

Lauren's eyes jumped back and forth between his mom and sister, and her cheeks were beginning to color with embarrassment.

He heard her say as she wiped her eyes, "It's so nice to meet both of you. I am so sorry to intrude... It's just that they just told me Ben was at the hospital. I thought… I just assumed it was…" Her voice trailed off.

He saved her from trying to go on, "You thought I was the one in the hospital."

"Yes." She barked out a bitter laugh, relief written all over her face. "Seems silly and alarmist now, I realize. God, I feel so silly. I'm gonna let you get back to your family." She pulled away from Ben, turning her attention again to his mother and Brianna. "It was really nice meeting both of you."

She moved towards the door, and he heard himself say, "Stay."

What?

Where did that come from?

He had no idea what had possessed him to make such a request. Well...other than the overwhelming desire not to see Lauren walk out of the door… Yep, I guess that was motivation enough.

She paused and turned slightly to look back over her shoulder at him.

Ben's mother said, "Oh please do stay, Lauren. What a lovely distraction you would be from this awful place."

Then he heard his sister pipe up, "Hey, what am I, chopped liver?"

"Yes," he said playfully.

She threw an empty paper cup at him.

He reached out his hand to Lauren and said, "Please stay."

He saw in her eyes that she wanted to bolt for the door, but then something else came over her—a look of determination—she nodded and placed her hand in his.

Although Ben had spent enough days and nights in hospital rooms with his mom, critically ill in the bed, to realize the sheer lunacy of describing any afternoon spent in a hospital as "fun" or "pleasant" or anything like that, those were exactly the adjectives he would choose to describe the time Lauren spent there with his family.

They chatted and got to know each other. Ben even endured the good-natured humiliation of his mom and sister relating embarrassing childhood anecdotes, of which he was the star.

As the afternoon wore on and it was clear that Lauren was beginning to feel truly comfortable with his mom and sister, she said, "So, Alana, can I ask you something?"

"Of course, dear. Anything," his mom replied.

"How did you know who I was?"

"I don't follow, dear," his mom said, her forehead wrinkling in puzzlement.

"Well," Lauren explained, "when I first walked in here, you said that I must be Lauren. How did you know that?"

Alana smiled. "Well, I have your picture, of course!"

Lauren was surprised. "Really? How? The show hasn't put up a website or anything. There isn't even a show for sure yet."

"Oh, no, no... That's not what I meant," Alana clarified. "Brianna, honey, where's my phone? Can you get me my phone?"

Ben said in a warning tone, "Mom, maybe we shouldn't be doing this. Maybe you should just be resting."

"Oh, nonsense," Alana replied, either missing the warning tone or choosing to ignore it, "I'm not so far gone I can't summon the strength to swipe my fingertip across my phone."

Alana picked up a pair of glasses from where they were sitting on the tray in front of her and put them on. Then she took the phone Brianna was handing her and swiped to unlock it and pressed the icon for her photos. She moved the screen a few more times and handed Lauren the phone.

"Here you are, dear."

Lauren took the phone, and Ben could see how intrigued she was. It was written all over her face. He shook his head. Damn.

He knew what the picture was. It was the photo he had taken with Lauren across the street from her office when he was teasing her in front of her clients. It had come out really cute. He was looking down at her with a supremely confident look on his face, and she was looking up at him, shocked. Her mouth was even open a little, as if her jaw were about to drop. He loved it.

He had texted it to his mom as a joke. He had captioned it. "Just thought you should know I still have a way with the ladies. Love you, Mom."

It had never occurred to him, not in a million years, that Lauren would one day be looking at that text.

Great.

He looked over at her. She had a faraway look in her eye and a small smile on her lips.

He smiled as well. He remembered very well, as she must be remembering now, what he'd said to earn that shocked expression.

"Damn, you smell good enough to eat ."

Lauren looked over at him and the two of them locked eyes, smiling.

Ben was snapped out of this lovely walk down memory lane by the sound of his little sister's voice. "Um, hello?" she said sarcastically. "There are other people here? Maybe you two should get a room. And not a hospital room."

Ben picked up the crumpled paper cup she'd thrown at him earlier and tossed it back at her. She squealed and put up her hand to block it.

"Kids!" Alana said forcefully, in a tone that let it be known that she didn't care if the so-called 'kids' involved were adults. She was the one in charge here. "Stop that right now!"

"He started it," Brianna said.

"Did not," Ben shot back, and Lauren laughed.

Brianna smiled. "Anyway," she said to Lauren, "I just wanna know what he said to you to get that reaction. It must've been good."

Lauren blushed, and Ben felt like hiding under his chair.

"Dang, girl!" Brianna continued, laughing. "It must've been something. You are fifty shades of pink right now!"

"That's enough, that's enough," Alana admonished her daughter, but in an affectionate, amused tone.

Ben was neither as affectionate nor as amused.

"Brat," he mumbled.

Just then, a nurse popped her head in.

"Sorry, folks. Visiting hours are over for the evening," she said regretfully.

Ben, Lauren, and Brianna all hugged Alana farewell and started out the door.

Just before they were completely out, though, Alana said, "Hold on one minute, Lauren."

All three turned and waited to hear what she had to say.

To her children, Alana said, "You two hooligans go on and wait outside. I want to talk to Lauren for a minute."

Ben was suspicious. "What about?"

"Well, if I wanted you to know, I would have invited you to stay," Alana said in her best 'mom' tone.

Lauren chuckled and said, "It's fine, Ben. Really."

Ben reluctantly left the room, dragging Brianna along with him. If he didn't get to stay and hear the secret conversation, his pain-in-the-butt little sister certainly wasn't going to.

When they got outside the door, Ben propped it open a fraction of an inch and leaned in to listen.

Brianna looked scandalized. "I'm telling!" she whispered, glee at this prospect lighting up her face.

"Then I'll tell about the time you 'borrowed' Mom's car to go 'study' at 'Jenny's house'—and you and I both know there are, like, three lies just in that one sentence alone."

Brianna narrowed her eyes but made no further moves to block his spying. Ben leaned forward, straining to hear the conversation.

"You take care of him, okay, honey?" Alana was saying, her voice thick with emotion at the importance of the task she was imparting. "I was sick the whole time Benny was growing up. He had to take care of Brianna, and I'm ashamed to admit he had to take care of me, as well. He deserves someone to take care of him... real good care. Like I wish I could have."

Through the crack, Ben saw Lauren take his mother's hand and lean in close. With seriousness of purpose in her voice, she said, "Ms. Stevens, most people never get the opportunity to know how much they mean to the people who love them or the opportunity to let the people that they love know the true extent of their devotion. Ben was given both of those things as a result of having to step up the way he has. Most people also never get the chance to be a hero for those they love. You let Ben be your hero. I think you did a wonderful job."

The two women were silent for a moment, and Ben peeked again through the crack in the door. He noticed that Brianna, for all of her earlier teasing, had peeked around right behind him.

What he saw choked him up more than he would have expected. Lauren was leaning forward, bent over his mother's bed, and the two were embracing.

When Lauren stood, Ben and Brianna scurried several yards down the hall, both adopting a studied, casual pose and pretended to be engrossed in conversation.

When Lauren walked up to them, Ben put on a surprised face and glanced at his watch.

"Wow, that was quick!" he said, and his voice sounded supremely fake even to his own ears.

The three turned to walk towards the exit, and he heard Brianna mumble, "Dork."

They walked silently for a few moments, and Ben thought that Lauren must be lost in the heaviness of the moment she had shared with his mother. He wished that he could say something to her, something that would ease her burden, but for obvious reasons, he couldn't. He felt so torn.

Lauren broke the silence, saying, "So..."

Ben turned to look at her eagerly, hoping that she would confide in him on her own so that he could talk it through with her.

She was making a clear point to keep her gaze focused forward, although a small smile played at the corners of her mouth.

She said, "How long are you going to pretend that you weren't eavesdropping?"

Ben opened his mouth to protest but was cut off when she added, "Benny."

Brianna threw her head back and laughed then slung her arm around Lauren's shoulder and said, "Oh, yeah, I like her, Ben! You need to keep her around."

Ben felt himself blushing and didn't like it. It was his general policy never to let Brianna know that she was getting a reaction from him. But having two of the three women in his life ganging up on him at once was too much.

"Um, yeah," he mumbled. "That's the plan."

"Good," said Brianna, satisfied. "Then I guess you're not as big of a dork as I thought."

--- ~ ---

Lauren said her goodbyes to Ben's sister in the parking garage and followed Ben to his black Mercedes SUV. They climbed into the vehicle, and Ben turned to her.

"Dinner?" he asked.

"I'm starved! What are you offering?" she asked with a smile.

He smiled right back. "Home-cooked meal?"

"Thought you'd never ask," she laughed.

As Ben expertly piloted the SUV through the thick LA traffic, Lauren reflected on the roller coaster events of the day. From the four a.m. wake-up call, to the stress of wondering where Ben had been all morning, to being told he was in the hospital, and then to the complete and total turnaround the day had taken when she walked into the hospital room.

Good thing number one—Ben had not been hit by a car or had some other horrific fate befall him. Good thing number two—getting to meet and hang out with Ben's mother and sister, who were absolutely delightful and who seemed to like her as well.

Which brought her to good thing number three. " That's the plan ."

Ben said that.

When Brianna said that he should "keep her around," he replied, " That's the plan ."

Was she making a mistake reading too much into it? But how many ways were there to take that?

He said, in essence, that he was planning to continue their relationship.

This morning, she'd been obsessing over what the future held with him, and now, she'd been assured that he was planning on going forward.

She should be thrilled.

I am thrilled , she insisted to herself.

Yet? A tiny part of her was freaking out a bit.

Commitment. And it was all happening so fast!

She took a deep breath as Ben took a left off of Sunset and the SUV started to climb the hills above Chateau Marmont. She made up her mind to just enjoy this night with him.

Come on—a gorgeous guy taking her to his house and cooking dinner for her? What's not to love about that?

When they pulled into Ben's driveway, he moved around to open her door for her, helping her to step carefully down.

"Watch the pavement. It's a little uneven," he warned. "The streets up here are so twisty and steep and settling that it's hard to keep things perfectly smooth. I don't want you to twist your ankle."

Lauren smiled her thanks then chuckled, "Yeah, that would be really great for shooting tomorrow, wouldn't it? You striding confidently through frame and me hobbling after you as fast as I can on crutches."

Ben shook his head. "Nah, that would never happen. I'd carry you."

Lauren felt warmth lighting her up from within.

As they walked inside, Lauren was surprised and impressed. "Wow! This place is amazing!" she gushed.

"You don't need to sound so surprised," he teased, walking with her and watching her reactions as she wandered around the spacious, contemporary rooms.

"You must've gutted the place when you bought it...or a previous owner did it," she observed, "There's no other way you would've achieved this open floor plan."

"Guilty as charged," he admitted.

"I love it," she said. "It's contemporary without being cold. To be honest, I think I was expecting a bachelor pad. You know, cardboard cutouts of beer models and a foosball table."

"Lauren," he said, feigning shock, "it's like we've never even met."

"I know," she laughed. "What was I thinking? You dress better than any gay man I've ever known."

Ben chuckled. "Yeah, I'd tell you that's the best compliment anyone's ever given me, but I'd be lying if I pretended you were the first person who's ever told me that."

"Not surprised."

"So how about steaks for dinner? Does that sound good?"

Lauren's stomach growled in response.

Ben said, "I'll take that as a yes."

"Oh, God. How embarrassing. I just realized though—I haven't eaten a thing all day."

"I'd better get started, then. You go ahead and keep looking around if you like."

Lauren looked torn. "If you need any help..." she offered halfheartedly.

Ben laughed. "Not at all. I'm an agent, too. I recognize a case of real estate lust when I see it. You're dying to explore my square footage, woman. Admit it."

"All right, I've been caught," Lauren said, laughing. "I admit it. I get inside a new house and all I can think about is going through every room and calculating the resale value. Is that an occupational hazard or is it an inherent trait that made me want to become an agent?"

Ben shook his head. "It's the classic chicken or the egg. Well, explore away, baby. My home is your castle."

As Lauren slowly made her way through Ben's home, her attention was gradually turned from the impressive modern remodel and the expansive city views, to the wealth of photos of his mother and sister he had displayed artfully throughout the house.

With Ben's exquisite taste, his walls were certainly never going to resemble a suburban mom's refrigerator door with snapshots slapped up willy-nilly, creating unintentional collages by virtue of their very number. That wasn't his style. No, these were carefully selected, artful shots that represented all of the eras of his family, even including some photos of his mom as a young woman.

Unsurprisingly, Alana had been a real beauty in her day.

Lauren felt a lump in her throat as she completed her self-guided tour of Ben's life. The one thing, absolutely, that came through with unmistakable clarity was Ben's fierce love and loyalty for his family.

Lauren returned to the kitchen, where Ben was busy at the stove. The aromas coming from the pans he was tending, caused her stomach to growl again. She laughed, perching on one of the stools that sat in front of his kitchen island.

"As you could probably tell by that, it smells amazing," she said warmly.

Ben pushed a plate of cheese and crackers and a glass of wine towards her. "Here. I thought you could use a little snack before the meal's finished cooking," he said.

Lauren sighed. "You're a god among men! I love how you...cubed the cheese so perfectly..." she finished lamely.

What she was about to say was, 'I love how you take such good care of me,' but as the words were flying out of her mouth, they felt embarrassingly personal, so she slammed on the brakes.

Maybe she should've just gone through with it. It couldn't have ended up being more embarrassing than complimenting the man on his cheese-cubing abilities.

They chatted companionably as Ben cooked and drank wine and Lauren ate cheese and crackers and drank wine, and—all in all—Lauren thought that it might be the best night she'd had in years. If not ever.

When they sat down to dinner, Lauren said, "It's so beautiful, Ben. Thanks so much for going to so much trouble."

Ben shrugged. "It was no trouble. I've been cooking since I was ten. Not to mention, it's the least I could do after you put a smile on my mom's face today. That was worth ten steak dinners."

"Careful. I may take you up on those."

Ben brushed his hand against her cheek. "I hope so. Now, let's dig in before it gets cold and all my hard work goes to waste. I want you to appreciate my genius while it's at its apex."

Lauren took a bite and moaned in pure carnal enjoyment. God, she didn't know how Sam did it, eating nothing but greens and nuts and the occasional apple. Lauren was an unrepentant carnivore and it was moments like this that she remembered why.

"Ben," she breathed reverently. "Genius is just about the right word for it. This is ridiculously delicious."

They ate in silence for a few moments, completely engrossed in how satisfying and delectable the food was.

Finally, far enough into the meal that she could relax and chat as she ate, Lauren said, "Oh, and by the way, I loved going through your place. It's gorgeous, but you know that. The standouts were the photos though. Did you take those? You really have an eye."

"I took a lot of them, Ben said smiling. A good number of them predate my skills with the camera though."

"Hmmm, the family cook, the family photographer... Why do I get the feeling those are just the tip of the iceberg?" Lauren asked, a sadness tingeing her voice.

Ben shrugged. "Hey, it wasn't an easy life, but it certainly wasn't the worst it could've been."

"What was it like?" Lauren asked, placing her hand on his and squeezing. "Tell me."

Ben looked thoughtful. "Well, I never knew my dad. He was gone early on."

"Why? What happened?"

"Don't know. Mom would never say, just that he was gone and not coming back. I stopped asking after I was mainly taking care of Bri because it didn't seem to matter that much anymore.

"But I'm skipping ahead. When I was nine, Mom got remarried. When I was ten, she had Brianna. When I was eleven, she was diagnosed with lupus. I know it seems like I should be able to say, 'When I was twelve, Brianna's dad split,' because it would have such a nice symmetry in the retelling, but the truth is, he was gone long before that. The way I remember it, he left pretty much the day after her diagnosis."

"I'm sorry," said Lauren sympathetically.

"Don't be," said Ben firmly. "I mean, it must've been really hard on my mom, but I was glad he left. He was an asshole. Well, as you can probably gather based on the fact that he left his sick wife and infant daughter in the care of an eleven-year-old.

"I can see that now, as an adult, what a low-life stunt that was. But at the time…I don't know how to explain it. I didn't feel like a kid. I didn't feel like, 'Oh no, I'm only eleven. How will I ever take care of my mom and sister all by myself?'

"It was more like, 'Okay, awesome. That shiftless bastard is out of the way. He only made things more difficult. Now I can get down to the business of taking care of my family."

"And you've been doing it ever since."

Ben nodded. "Yep. Ever since."

"What did you do for money? Was your mom on disability?"

Ben gave a curt nod. "Some. The rest I filled in with three paper routes, a small landscaping business...even some babysitting. Whatever odd jobs people would pay me to do.

"When I was twelve, I got a gig delivering food for some local restaurants. It was good money, they paid under the table, and I got tips as well.

"By the time I was sixteen and got my license, I was making more deliveries and more tips, which was just as well, because the disability checks ran out. It became clear after just a couple of months that part-time money, even with tips, wasn't gonna cut it. So I quit school, got my GED, and got a decent-paying job at one of the grocery stores that I had been making deliveries for. It was just a small local chain, but it was a union shop, so the salary and benefits were good. Also, my manager liked me and helped me work it around so my sister could be on my insurance. Honestly, I thought I'd work there until I retired.

"Well, imagine my surprise when the chain went out of business about a month after my eighteenth birthday. I panicked. All I could see was my family's future in the toilet because they'd had the bad judgment to depend on me. I was only eighteen. I didn't have much perspective yet or much experience rolling with career punches. As freaked out as I was then, it seems odd to look back on it now and see it as the most fortunate thing that ever happened to me.

"My manager's brother-in-law was able to get him an 'in' selling Kirby vacuum cleaners door to door, and he offered to see if he could get me on as well. Man. I hated that job with a passion, but I realized before very long that I was good with people and great at sales. One of the doors I knocked on was a real estate broker who saw my potential, and the rest is history."

Lauren was so impressed by Ben that she wasn't even quite sure how to put her sentiments into words. Somehow, though, she sensed that he wouldn't appreciate her making a big fuss over his story, so she decided to just squeeze his hand supportively, give him a proud smile, and move on from there.

She changed the subject to one that he seemed much more eager to discuss—Brianna, the little sister he was so obviously crazy about and proud of in equal measures.

To lighten the heavy mood that had been created, Ben kept telling Lauren funny stories about Brianna as a child until they had finished eating.

As they were rinsing their plates, Lauren laughed.

"What?" Ben inquired, amused.

"You know," she said, "I actually saw you go into your hotel room with her in Palm Springs before I knew she was your sister. Oh, man, was I mad. I was spitting nails."

"Yeah, I can imagine," Ben said lightly, but she could hear the shift in his tone—this was a forced lightness.

"Really?" she asked him, exploring.

"Oh, sure. I mean, it must've felt like when you see someone...oh, I don't know...kiss a cop, for instance," he said, not meeting her eyes.

She looked at him carefully. "Eric is just a friend," she assured him.

Ben shrugged. "You don't owe me an explanation."

Lauren put down the plate she was holding, reached up to the faucet, and turned off the water. Then she took the plate that Ben was holding out of his hands and set it down as well.

"Listen to me," she said resolutely, turning him to face her. "Eric is just a friend. I promise you. We kissed at the dance, briefly, just to see if anything was there. There wasn't. End of story."

"Nothing?" he asked, still looking worried.

"I give you my word, from the bottom of my heart, I felt nothing when I kissed him."

Ben smiled, eyes glinting. "Do you feel anything when you kiss me?"

Lauren let a languorous smile grow on her lips. "I'm not sure," she said in a low, husky tone. "Maybe we'd better do a test and find out."

"Like an experiment?"

"Oh, yes. Purely for scientific purposes."

Ben grinned wider. "Well, if it's for science..." he said and lowered his lips onto hers, kissing her gently, slipping his arms around her.

She felt something, all right. But it wasn't the sparks and fireworks she was used to feeling when Ben kissed her or touched her. This was a slow, deliberate warming that rose up from deep in her belly and spread slowly and inexorably outward, all the way to her fingertips.

This felt like lying in the sun, basking in your bathing suit on the first day after school let out—feeling that lush warmth on every inch of your skin, while inside you thrill at the knowledge that before you lies an entire summer of uncharted days filled with nothing but endless possibility.

Lauren felt that same place inside of her opening up again, a place she hadn't been in touch with since she was a child. A place that recognized magic in the world and the idea that something could happen in an instant that could turn her life on a dime. The place that was in touch with all of the bounty the universe had to offer, and with the sly playfulness with which it usually offered it. The place that recognized joy and abundance, and accepted it without suspicion.

Without realizing what she was going to do or really sure why she did, Lauren threw her head back and laughed. It was a robust laugh, full of every bit of giddiness and lightheartedness she was feeling and every bit of contentment and bliss.

Ben stroked her hair, watching her with affection clearly visible in his face.

"Should I be offended?" he asked, his voice lightly playful.

She looked into his eyes, her hands on the sides of his face, and her own eyes misted over for a moment. "I'm just happy," she said simply, sliding her hands back into his thick, magnificent hair and leaning up to kiss him again, harder this time.

Ben slid his hands around her waist and squeezed, holding her tight and making her feel tiny when engulfed in his strong hands.

He took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom, smiling back at her seductively as they walked.

When they got to the bedroom, Lauren reached up to her tiptoes so that she could whisper in his ear, "I'll be right back. I'm just gonna go freshen up."

Lauren ducked into Ben's bathroom and shut the door behind her. She should freshen up, sure—and she would—but right now, her immediate interest was getting a look at herself in the mirror.

There hadn't been a good time all day to touch up her makeup, pay any attention to her hair, straighten her clothes—and the stuffy taxi ride and dash across the hospital parking lot couldn't have done her any favors either.

Lauren eyed herself critically. Hmmm... It wasn't how she would've chosen to look while having a romantic dinner with Ben, but it wasn't as bad as she had expected either. Still. She was going to need to make some cosmetic adjustments if she wanted to be able to surrender to this experience and not feel self-conscious about her state of disarray the whole time. Hey. Maybe it was shallow, but it was true.

Lauren tried to get her hair into place with her hand and then turned her attention to smoothing the wrinkles out of her clothing. She sighed. Very little success on both counts.

She looked around the bathroom to see what she had to work with. It was a man's bathroom, so obviously very little. She started to feel a little depressed. She wanted to look beautiful for Ben, but she didn't have the tools.

Suddenly, inspiration struck. Remembering Karina's words about the 'power of female nakedness' she quickly stripped down to her bra and panties. She eyed her hair. Wrangling it back into its sleek style was not going to be an option, so she quickly took the pins out and fluffed it out with her fingertips so that it fell in soft waves around her shoulders.

With no makeup to work with, she had to go old-school. She licked her lips to give them a sheen and pinched her cheeks to help them color. She felt like she was in the Old West or something.

She looked herself up and down, pleased. Just one last decision to make. Keep the heels or go barefoot?

She smiled wickedly at herself in the mirror.

Oh, heels—for damn sure.

After one last spot-check, she opened the bathroom door and strode seductively back into the room. Ben watched her, clearly mesmerized.

She smiled, liking that reaction.

He had also been busy while she was occupied in the bathroom. He lowered the lighting to a sexy, soft hue and chose some soulful jazz, which was currently playing on low through his high-quality sound system. She also spotted a shiny, square condom in its wrapper lying on his nightstand that wasn't there before. She smiled. Good. No more interruptions.

Ben walked slowly over to her, his eyes drinking her in, and stopped when he was about a foot away.

"My God," he breathed reverently. "You look amazing."

He reached out and ran his fingers gently down the side of her torso, almost as if he had to touch her to believe that she was real.

Lauren felt her flesh jump under his light touch, and she drew in her breath. Even at this soft touch, her body was responding. She felt her breath quicken, felt the muscles in her limbs melting and growing shaky.

She took the final step towards Ben, closing the gap between them and pressing her body hard against the length of his. She loved the way they seemed to notch together so seamlessly, as if their bodies were molded in a factory, created for the very purpose of joining flawlessly. They were like puzzle pieces finding their true mate for the first time.

Lauren began to kiss Ben's neck as she moved her hands over the length of his body. His muscles were an alluring landscape of peaks and shadows set off by the soft glow of the lighting. She wanted to explore every inch of that tantalizing territory.

She felt the quickening pace of his thudding heartbeat under her touch as her hands explored his chest; she felt the blood rushing through his veins under her lips as she kissed his neck. His growing passion fed hers, and her skin became flushed with desire as she kissed and touched him with ever-growing urgency.

Ben placed his hand flat on her lower back and guided her firmly to the bed. Lauren was beside herself with desire. Touching Ben's body had that effect on her, without fail. She marveled at the fact that, although it magnified her arousal tenfold, it wasn't even actually necessary for Ben to touch her—the simple act of exploring his body would send her into a blurry haze of desire each and every time.

Smiling at her in between placing soft, gentle kisses on her face and neck, Ben laid Lauren back onto the bed, taking care to cushion her body inch by inch.

Lauren felt treasured, cherished, and desired. It was a heady combination. Every muscle in her body was trembling, and she found herself feeling grateful that Ben displayed the foresight to lay her down on the bed—she didn't know how much longer her quaking muscles would've kept her on her feet.

Lauren settled back onto the pillows of Ben's bed and luxuriated in the feeling of his soft lips and tongue trailing a wet, hot path down her body. She took in her surroundings and felt the fire within her belly increase. They were making love in his most private of sanctuaries—his bedroom. The place Ben went to recover from long and difficult days, the place where he recharged, the place where he fell asleep at night and woke up in the morning—this sanctum would now forever include the memory of kissing Lauren here, of touching her, of the two of them reaching heights of ecstasy together.

She loved that thought. She loved the thought that, each time he glanced at his bathroom door, he could be reminded of the sight of her walking out seductively in her tiny, lacy bra and panties. She liked the idea that, every time he laid his head back on his own pillows, he could be reminded of Lauren's head gracing that same pillow as he used his mouth and hands to give her pleasure.

More than almost anything that had happened between them today, this made Lauren feel like she was being granted access into the most private, guarded areas of his heart, soul, mind, and life.

She trembled even more violently, and there was nothing in Ben's touch at that moment that made that happen. It was triggered by the momentous realization of the extent of their growing closeness.

It was a huge aphrodisiac.

She looked down, watching Ben as he kissed and swirled his way down her belly. She didn't have her hands in the back of his hair to urge him onward. She wasn't giving him encouragement—or instruction—with small verbal remarks. She was simply relaxing and enjoying whatever he had in mind.

She almost didn't recognize herself, but she sure as hell was enjoying the experience. Lying back and letting Ben roam the length of her body and give her pleasure, like she'd done to him in the past—it was a revelation. She never knew that simple, in-the-moment enjoyment of something could be so sweet.

From the look on Ben's face, he was also deriving a lot of pleasure from the freedom she was giving him to explore her, just as she'd gotten from exploring every inch of him.

As Ben made his way down past her lower belly, he smoothly slid her panties off, looking up at her and giving her a devilish grin as he did so.

"You did this for me in Aspen. I never got to return the favor," he said softly, spreading her legs open wider and lowering his head between them.

Lauren groaned in delight at the delectable sensations that were radiating out from the place where Ben's talented tongue was doing its work.

Unable to keep her hands from him a moment longer, she dug her fingers into his hair, urging him onward. Her hips rose to meet his mouth, matching his rhythm, she felt herself building closer to climax with each stroke of his white-hot tongue.

This would normally be the place where she would stop her partner in his tracks and move the encounter along. Lauren made it a point to never come unless her partner was also experiencing the same intense physical climax.

To experience that level of loss of control in front of a person who was not distracted by the fact that they were experiencing a similar loss of control? Unacceptable.

To thrash about, to cry out, to wrinkle her face into who knew what kind of unattractive contortions while being watched by someone who was completely sober and had all of his wits about him? Again, unacceptable.

That was all in the past, however. As Ben's mouth urged her on to greater and greater heights of delirium, she wanted nothing more than for him to take her further, faster, higher... Oh, God... She reached a hand above her head and grasped the headboard, her back arching in rapture, tiny explosions beginning to erupt over every inch of her skin, with the largest and most powerful radiating out from the core of her being.

She felt a cry tear from her throat but didn't even hear it. Her blood pressure had risen to the point that she was so lightheaded, so outside of herself, that she was out of touch with her five external senses. There was no room in her awareness for anything but the massive force of the waves of pleasure ripping violently through her.

Before her powerful orgasm had even begun to subside, Lauren felt Ben enter her. She opened her eyes to see that he was balancing his body above her, his face less than a foot from hers.

"Yes," she gasped, and he smiled as he began to move inside of her.

Lauren found that she loved this more than she ever could've imagined—feeling Ben inside her, stroking her most sensitive core as she looked into his eyes and watched the entrancing micro-expressions of bliss that passed across his face as their bodies moved in harmony.

She even found herself getting an erotic charge from knowing that he was watching her face in the exact same way.

As their pace increased, Lauren realized she was again climbing to the peak of pleasure, and she could see by Ben's face that he was making that journey right alongside her.

Their bodies moved in ever-increasing speed, their cries grew louder, and at the penultimate moment, Lauren pleaded in a whisper, "Kiss me. Please, Ben, kiss me."

He lowered his mouth to hers, crushing their lips together and plunging his tongue into her mouth as they raced over the edge of oblivion together, their cries muffled by the kiss, their bodies trembling and bucking.

Lauren wrapped her arms and legs around him as their breathing began to slow and the world started to right itself around them. She simply couldn't get close enough, couldn't hold him tight enough, to feel satiated. Every cell in her body was screaming, "Closer, closer, closer!"

She couldn't believe the intimacy she felt, the connection, when making love with Ben. It was entirely unprecedented.

She thought that she wasn't made that way, and she was wrong. She was made for connection, for intimacy, for passion...for love. She didn't know it until she'd met Ben.