Page 72 of Home to Me

Ben looked at her strangely, but she didn't feel like explaining because she was not eager to relive the pain and fright she felt from thinking he’d been sick or injured severely enough that he’d been hospitalized.

They climbed out of the town car and embarked immediately on a hectic whirlwind of a morning, rushing from hair and makeup to wardrobe to set.

Paul made it clear that they needed to be sharp and on point that day. They had double the amount of shots to get through since they were playing catch-up from the day before. When he said this, Ben apologized profusely.

“Seriously, stop,” Paul said sincerely. “You were where you needed to be. I'm not saying this to guilt you into giving a flawless performance. Here's the thing—both of you are pros. I'm just giving you the lay of the land. We have a ton of work to get through today. So let's get started.”

Ben and Lauren both nodded and then smiled at each other. They were vibing today. Lauren could already sense that they were at the top of their games, both individually and collectively. It was going to be a good day. She could feel it in her bones.

As the shooting day wore on, Lauren was glad that she had been right. She and Ben were in the zone together. Most of the shots they were able to get in the can in one take.

Lauren felt the magic of the shoot running through her veins in an electrifying current. What should’ve been a really miserable, tense day on set because of all the make-up work they had to get done was turning out to be one of the most relaxed and fun shooting days she'd experienced since starting this new job.

The first opportunity that anyone had to even breathe was during the dinner break as people sat around with their paper plates full of food from craft services, sharing stories and laughing and just being giddy in general that the day was almost behind them and that it was a total success.

Ben and Lauren were sitting next to each other, talking and laughing and enjoying their food just like everyone else was, when, all of a sudden, Ben surprised her by leaning over and giving her a kiss. And not just a little kiss either, but a full-on, tongue-twirling, toe-curling kiss.

The crew exploded in cheers, clapping, whooping, and hollering. Even Paul was smiling, and there were some teasing shouts of, “You go girl!” and “It's about time!”

Lauren smiled demurely. She certainly didn't want to be the spoilsport that ruined everyone's fun, so she just waved to the crowd and did her best to take the good-natured ribbing as if she enjoyed being the center of attention.

She didn’t.

Lauren was a private person when it came to relationships, and she felt extremely uncomfortable that Ben had just put theirs on display. Especially after the previous day spent with his family and the night together that followed, it seemed as if what was unfolding between them was intimate, private...sacred.

And to her, Ben had just turned it into a spectacle.

Paul stood. “Okay, okay...” he said, gesturing for the crowd to quiet down. “This is very exciting news, I'll grant you. But we still have two more shots to get through this evening, ladies and gentlemen, so let's take this energy and channel it into work, all right? Five minutes.”

Lauren was relieved. At least in five minutes, she could distract herself with performing in front of the camera.

As soon as Paul yelled, “Cut!” for the last time, Lauren made a beeline for her trailer. Suddenly, she was feeling extremely claustrophobic. Trapped. She needed to get back to Hope Falls.

This caused her to pause—to freeze in place, actually—midway through the mundane task of gathering her laptop and luggage to load into the town car that would take her and Ben back to LAX.

Since when did words like 'trapped' enter into her thoughts when she thought about being with Ben? When did that start?

As she thought back over the past couple of days, her first instinct was to think that it sprung out of nowhere, beginning with that public and uninvited kiss at dinner. However, the more carefully she considered, the more she realized that there had been seeds of it during the visit with Ben's family yesterday, and those seeds started to sprout at his home, especially when she was looking at his family photos. And although she choked them at the time, she didn't pull them up by their roots.

She shook her head. Was it possible that, as much as she cared for Ben and as special as their connection was, things were getting too close, too serious for her liking?

The thought made her highly uncomfortable, even scared her...but it had the ring of truth.

Lost in thought, Lauren gathered her bags and made her way to the small beach parking lot where the car was slated to pick them up.

She was looking forward to the ride to the airport, alone in the back of the town car with Ben, where they could just hold hands and chat, reconnect on that magical level that was only available to the two of them when no one else was around—and maybe her fears about how far and how fast down the road of commitment this relationship had sped, and how it could dissipate as surely and as easily as morning dew in the light of the strong, bright afternoon sun.

Lauren sat down on the molded stone bench that graced the far side of the parking lot, wondering idly what was taking Ben so long. She knew that her internal crisis slowed down the process of gathering her things from the trailer. She fully expected to see Ben here waiting for her when she arrived, but he was nowhere in sight.

She glanced at her watch and frowned. If he didn't hurry, the car was going to show up and they would be forced to wait. Hopefully not for too long. She didn't want to take even the smallest chance that they would miss their flight. She really needed to get home. Home to Hope Falls—the one place where she felt like she could actually think.

Just then, she heard a high-pitched shriek of laughter coming from the direction of the house where they’d been shooting. She frowned. What was that?!

Lauren slipped off her heels and took a few steps out into the sand so that she had a fuller view of the oceanfront by the house. She was struck dumb by what she saw: Ben, in full “Television Host Persona” mode, surrounded by six bikini-clad college-bimbo types.

He was taking photos with them in all different combinations, laughing, charming the hell out of them. Lauren knew that it shouldn’t bother her. But the same feeling that she had growing up, when she would see her dad flirt and turn on his mega-charm, flooded through her now. She felt angry. She felt helpless. She felt betrayed.

Lauren saw Ben sign one girl's cleavage, another one's inner thigh, and then a third girl's ass—which the girl made sure to present to him by turning away and bending over slightly, poking it out to show it off to its best advantage.

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