Page 57 of Home to Me

Now that he was with Lauren, he realized that his mother couldn’t have been more right. All he wanted to do, all the time, was be with her. He didn't care what they were doing; he just wanted to be with her.

It was so far beyond sex that it seemed silly to him to even think about writing off the bond they shared as simply lust driven. It was so much more than that.

He honestly didn't care if they just sat together reading or doing the crossword. He loved to eat with her. He loved to talk with her. God, he would probably love doing laundry or going to the grocery store if it was with her. Lauren made everything magic.

And as far as having ‘the talk’? Well, he was more than ready. Bring it on. He wasn’t afraid of being tied down to Lauren. As a matter of fact, the opposite was true. His biggest fear, at this point, was that she wouldn’t want to be tied down to him.

He shook his head. He’d never felt this way about women and relationships. If you needed just one piece of evidence that Lauren Harrison had magic at her disposal you need look no further than him. In only a few weeks, she had completely transformed him.

The only question was—had he done the same to her?

As they pulled up in front of Lauren's house, she still hadn’t shaken off her pensive mood, and it made Ben nervous to think about leaving things between them on this quiet, low-key note. He wanted her last impression of him, and of them, to be upbeat, joyful, and passion filled.

She turned to him, smiling quietly, saying goodbye, and he reminded her, “I'm going to be in Sacramento this weekend at the children's wing dedication. So I won't see your beautiful face until Monday.”

She responded happily, “Okay, sounds good. See you then.”

Hmmmm. It wasn't a bad sign by any stretch of the imagination, but it also certainly wasn't the high note he was aiming for.

Acting entirely on instinct, Ben followed Lauren as she exited the car, grabbed her wrist, and spun her around, pulling her against him and kissing her with all of his might. As he was kissing her, he concentrated on really using the gesture to communicate to her how he was feeling.

With every bit of passion, every bit of affection, every bit of magic that he felt with every fiber of his being any time she was in the same room with him—who was he kidding, any time she wasn't in the same room with him as well—he did his best to communicate to her with that kiss.

When he finally drew back and looked into her eyes, he was rewarded by seeing the unguarded sparkle there that he’d seen during their very best times together. Now that was the reaction he’d been hoping for.

She seemed to have been robbed of the power of speech, and he liked the thought of leaving her a little off-balance with something to think about.

So without another word, he climbed back into the car and shut the door behind him. As the town car started to pull away, he slid the tinted window down and said, “See you Monday, gorgeous.”

Her only response was to smile and gently touch her lips in wonderment.

That was perfectly fine with him.

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Lauren sat in her chair at book club, wondering if she should just make an excuse and head home. Things were so confusing with Ben right now, and she really felt that what she needed more than anything was some time alone to work through it in her mind and attempt to come to some sort of conclusion.

Of course, because her friends were who her friends were, if she did try to make an excuse and hightail it out of there, the only thing she would accomplish would be to draw attention to the fact that she had something juicy to discuss. She wouldn't get out of there until midnight.

She couldn't stop thinking about that last kiss Ben had given her just outside her house the day before. It was different than any kiss they’d shared before.

Lauren realized that what she was about to tell herself was a ridiculous assertion for two people who’d been naked together on more than one occasion, the truth was, that kiss in front of her house felt like the most intimate, the most personal thing she and Ben had ever shared. Really, it felt like the most intimate, most personal thing she’d ever shared with anyone.

It was freaking her out.

The more she thought about it, the more she felt like an idiot for entrusting her heart to someone like Ben Stevens.

First of all, she didn't know what his intentions were. What was he planning to do if the show got picked up? What was he planning to do if the show didn't get picked up?

Who was to say that he wouldn't be treating her like a stranger again the next time she saw him? They’d gone from piping hot to icy cold before in the blink of an eye—what made her think that it wouldn't happen again?

What, for that matter, made her think that she wasn't one in a large group of women Ben was seeing right now? What made her think that what was happening between them was special to him in any way?

What if, from his perspective, this wasn't even something that was “happening” so much as it was just one of his many random hook-ups that happened as he traveled from town to town, charming his way through all the local ladies with his television star status?

Oh, God. Was that what she was? Was she little more than a local groupie?

Her instincts told her that this was so much more than that, not only from her perspective, but from his as well. After all, she made her living by reading people. She couldn't be that wrong about him... Could she?

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