Page 38 of Trial Run

Chapter 11

Ben arrived at Nell’s house for their dinner date with a bottle of wine and a bag of rocks. She’d said Marco liked the geode, so he’d brought a few others, just in case.

Her house was part of a short row of attached rental townhomes. The chipped gray exterior paint could use a touchup, and it appeared no one had mowed the lawn yet this spring. The grass had grown to ankle height, and weeds lined the sidewalk.

Her front door opened and she greeted him with a smile. She was barefoot, wearing dark jeans and a white T-shirt, her usual high ponytail swinging as she walked down the path to meet him. He’d never seen anything more beautiful.

“You found us,” she said.

“It wasn’t too hard.” He shut the car door and locked it with the fob.

Her eyes widened as she took him in. “You’re not wearing a suit.”

“I do own other clothing. Mostly, I wear suits for work.” He’d chosen the white button-down and black pants in the hopes he’d look more relaxed.

“Well, I’ve never seen you not wearing a suit.” She ushered him in the front door. “You look good this way.”

“You look nice, too.” His eyes caught hers and held, and he was right back where he’d been on Saturday. Tongue-tied, and a few seconds away from kissing her.

Footsteps thundered down the steps, and Marco skidded around the corner. He stared at Ben for a long moment, then directed a meaningful look at Nell.

“Marco wants us to show you what we found at the park on Sunday. Marco, I’m going to show Ben around the house first. Then, we’ll show him your rocks. Do you want to go up and get them?”

Marco rolled his eyes, turned, and ran back up the steps.

Nell gave a little laugh. “He’s so excited to show you these rocks we found. But I don’t have the heart to take them into the rock shop and cut them in half. What if there’s nothing inside them? He’ll be so disappointed.”

Ben’s chest tightened. “He wanted to look for rocks?”

“He didn’t talk about anything else for two days.”

“I brought more to show him.” He held up the bag. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. He’ll be thrilled.” She took the bag and the wine bottle and set them on the dining table, which was covered with a dinosaur-print tablecloth. Ben scanned the small room. Plants covered one half of the dining table. More plants lined the windowsill and hung from hooks on the ceiling. A brief glance into her small kitchen revealed greenery in tiny pots on the countertops. In the corner of the dining room stood a couple of the pots they’d taken from the hardware store last week.

“They weren’t dead.” He tipped his head in the direction of the plastic pots, sitting on the floor by the window. The formerly dried-out husks now sported dozens of new leaves.

She flashed him a brilliant smile. “I told you they weren’t dead. Just under-watered and too much sun. But I fixed them up.”

“You’re a plant doctor.”

“A little bit.” She went to the table and picked up a small succulent. “This one is Matilda. She’s a jade plant. She only had two leaves when I got her.”

“You name your plants?” A smile threatened the corners of Ben’s mouth.

“Of course. It helps them grow and it makes them feel special.”

“That makes a lot of sense. And Matilda is a good name.”

“My mom loved old-fashioned names. That’s how I ended up with the name Penelope. So easy to spell for a kid.” She rolled her eyes. “But I like giving them names my mom would have liked. It reminds me of her.”

“The ficus plant you gave me. I thought it came from the shop. But was it one of yours, from your collection?”

“It was one of mine. I thought you needed it.”

Because it was like him. Neglected and in need of someone who understood it. God, she’d thought he needed fixing up, like one of her dying plants. And there it was again, that feeling she saw the real him, even when nobody else did, and she accepted him.

He held her gaze. “I did need it. And I didn’t even know.” He cleared his throat. “And does my ficus have a name?”

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