Louise Bentley is a feisty, wild, 'let's-go-to-Capri-for-the-weekend-yeah?' kind of girl. She spends her days working at a party-planning company. Oh, and she never wants kids. Ever.
Ben Langford is a studious, quiet, 'I'm-busy-reading' sort of man...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Louise studied her shoe rack.
It had been a while, Louise reflected, since she'd worn nice shoes. Her Louboutin pumps had been shoved to the back of the closet, covered by beat-up trainers, wellies, and a pair of slides that she wore exclusively to take the bins out.
She pulled out the pair of Louboutin's. Examined them.
God, she wanted to wear them.
And yet...
Louise sat on her bed, examining the black heels with a red underbelly. Did wearing heels send a message? Would Ben think that she thought it was a date? Because it wasn't. Louise knew that. But if she wore heels...
She nibbled her lip. Then again, what choice did she have? Wearing wellies with her current outfit would look ridiculous.
Louise examined the mirror. She'd almost forgotten that she could look like this: dark hair arranged in a cloud of curls; red lipstick; a black dress that clung to her chest and hips. It was slightly scandalous for Bar Citizen, but what the hell? She deserved to have fun.
Voices drifted up the stairs.
She could hear Ben shuffling around the kitchen, showing Andrew and Ophelia the ropes. Cupboards opened. Plush toys squeaked. Andrew's bass tones floated up the stairs, warm with amusement.
"Can Vienna use the sharp knives to cut up her steak if we supervise her? Or should we give her the dull ones?"
Louise froze.
Andrew was joking, right? He had to be joking. Just in case, she yanked on the heels, hurrying into the corridor.
Ben was standing in the middle of the kitchen, his arms folded. Ophelia was building LEGO with Hugh, while Andrew balanced Vienna on one hip — thankfully, no steak knives in sight. Yet. Louise rushed down the steps.
A stair creaked.
Ben's head snapped up. He blinked. Blinked again. He was staring at Louise — not as if he'd never seen her before, but as if he'd seen her a million times, and he was still seeing her. Seeing straight to her core, where she tucked away all the spiderwebs and little holes that nobody was allowed to see. Seeing her.
"Bentley." Ben's mouth lifted. "New dress?"
"No," she lied.
No way was Louise admitting she'd bought this for tonight. Not a chance. She spun, spreading her arms out.
"Well?" Louise asked. "Aren't you going to tell me how great I look?"
She sounded a little breathless, even to her own ears. Ben's gaze was steady. He was wearing colour for once — an olive-green shirt that matched his eyes — and when he spoke, his voice was rough gravel.
"You look incredible," he said. "But you already know that."
Heat rose to her cheeks.
One word. Ten letters. Ben said it plainly, almost in exasperation, as if it was a fact that didn't bear repeating; the word hung between them, a shimmering, restless ghost. Louise turned to grab her trench coat.
