Page 13 of Smarty Plants
This has definitely been the best night of my life. I also know it’s just the beginning.
7
IRIS
I’m pretty good at compartmentalizing. But how can I possibly focus when my mind is still reeling from that incredible evening?
Ben with his shirt off was alotto take in. Huge swaths of muscle, sculpted for strength when he’s working, I’m sure. Yet it had the bonus effect of making my thighs rub together and my mind check completely out.
I’m very well read, and I love to immerse myself in documentaries from around the world. Now I realize there’s been a huge hole in my knowledge base up till now. I had no idea how unbelievably wild it feels to be so close with another person.
“Hey.” Ben reaches out to squeeze my hand as we drive downtown. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Just, you know, processing.”
“I hope you’re happy with last night?”
My thumb rubs along his hand. “Very happy. I’m still kind of…” I flash him a grin. “Glowing, I guess. But right now, I’m trying to focus. Wayne is going to be early, right?”
“I assumed as much, yeah. If he said noonish, I’m guessing eleven?”
“I’m thinking earlier – as early as possible. He’ll want to throw you off. How about we go straight to your office, then I’ll walk to the shop from there?”
“If you like.” His hand feels so perfect in mine as he lightly squeezes. “I do want my good luck charm to be around for a bit – though I hate the idea of making you walk.” Ben parks the truck, then comes around to take my hand as I step down.
I get a kick from the way he grins when we walk inside, looking around his completely refreshed space. It really did turn out well. Everything is crisp: bright white walls, dark wood floors and furniture, the dramatic green paintings, and lush greenery in several spots. I think a high-end design magazine would use this as an example of the perfect office for a carpentry company, if I do say so myself.
Dakota is already at the reception desk, her textbook half-hidden on top of the side drawer. She looks terrific. I give her a quick thumbs up.
We go into Ben’s office and he pulls out his laptop. Something clicks in the back of my mind. “You said your uncle was a lousy worker. Is he at least good at bookkeeping, or designing blueprints, or…anything?”
Ben snorts. “No. He hates offices. He thinks we’re pretentious for having a conference room to sit clients down and go through sketches and stain and color samples. He’d prefer to do that over the tailgate of his pickup.”
I reach down to adjust his deep green tie. It looks great against his charcoal gray button-down shirt. “Then that’s where we hit him. You’re a boss, controlling everything. He’s a workman. Intimidation will throw him off his game and make him realize he has no place here whatsoever.”
Ben grins, then slowly walks his fingers up my arm to the edge of the short sleeve of my dress, giving it a playful tug. “This blue really makes your eyes pop.”
“Thank you. Now focus. What else does Wayne find intimidating?”
He nods toward the desk for a moment. “Anything involving other languages. It reminds him that he’s never traveled. People who speak quickly, even English, tend to throw him off.” He looks a little guilty. “Is it cruel to freak him out like this?”
A slow breath steadies me. I’m going to have to step up and meet Wayne. “Absolutely not. This guy wrecks companies, which endangers the livelihoods of all his workers. Now he wants to barge in and ruin yours too? No way. This is self-defense.”
Ben’s warm brown eyes glow as he smiles. “I love having you in my life, Iris,” he murmurs. “I really am looking forward to us having some quiet time soon.”
“Me too.” My head perks up. “Truck in the parking lot. I’ll breeze out of here just as he’s on his way in. Leave your door open but be buried in email.”
He pulls me down for a quick, fiery kiss, then grabs my ass firmly.
“Down, boy – this is serious.”
I straighten up, grab my purse, then stride to the front door just as a rough-looking man in jeans and a blue t-shirt with a beer company logo approaches, staring curiously at the new planters.
He walks in cautiously, clearly unsure if he’s even at the right place. His hair color is exactly the same as Ben’s, but that’s where any family resemblance ends. This man looks pretty haggard. I would guess hungover.
“Good morning,” I say brightly. “Are you here about the carpenter position?”
“What?” he sputters. “No. I’m here to see Ben.”
