Page 7 of One Weekend in Perth

Clara’s question pulled him back from his introspection. While he was lost in thought, she’d changed and was now wearing a pair of cream-colored linen pants that hinted at the length of her long legs. She’d donned a light blue top whichrested just above the waistband of her pants, and if she lifted her arms he would see a strip of her skin.

What would he have to do to get her to do that?

He shook his head. He needed to get these thoughts of Clara being more than a friend out of his head. He didn’t want to ruin two relationships in one day.

“You’re not okay. What’s wrong?” Clara was at his side in a flash, her hand resting on his arm. The gesture was a simple one, and his flesh burned at the touch, flowing through his body, and he wanted more, even though he shouldn’t.

“Sorry. I’m fine, I was just clearing my head. You ready to get out of here?” he asked, attempting to inject a carefree attitude in his tone.

Clara studied him, and he was sure she could see through his façade, but they’d been friends long enough and he knew she would respect his boundaries, even though he wanted to cross them.

“Okay, maybe some air will be good for you,” she murmured before turning away and grabbing her phone and room key. She glanced down at his feet then back at him. “Are you going to be able to walk far in those shoes?”

He wiggled his toes in the fancy, pointed toe, black patent leather shoes Fern insisted he needed to have for the wedding. “Guess we’ll find out. Worst comes to worst, I’ll buy a pair of sneakers on our walk.” Out of habit, Ben patted his pants pockets to check that his phone and wallet were there only to find them empty. For half a second he’d forgotten he’d left them in the hotel suite. “Shit, I forgot I left my stuff at the hotel.”

Way to state the obvious.

“It’s okay. I’m sure I can spot you a pair of chain store sneakers if you need them,” she said with a wink.

Ben groaned. “That’s not funny. My heels still have scars from those shoes you talked me into buying when we were fifteen.”

Clara laughed. “Twenty minutes. That’s all it took for those runners you had to have–because they were so cheap–to rip your heels to shreds. And I didn’t talk you into anything. I just agreed you should get them when you waxed lyrical about how fantastic they’d be and how everyone in school would be jealous. I knew they would show you how buying ten-dollar shoes would work out for you.”

This was what he needed. Someone to laugh with. At the beginning of his relationship with Fern she’d laughed with him, and then things had changed between them. Was that when she’d started seeing the other guy?

Stop it! I’m never going to go back to Fern, so there’s no point thinking about when and if things happened.

“Come on,” he said brusquely, the humor from a few seconds ago all gone. “Let’s get out of here.”

Clara, being the good friend she was, didn’t question his change of mood. Or call him out for being short with her. No, she walked toward the room door and opened it. He grabbed it so she didn’t have to keep it open for him.

They made their way out of the hotel and onto the street. He squinted in the bright sunlight and he wished he’d thought to grab his sunglasses.

“A cheap pair of sunnies shouldn’t hurt you too much,” Clara quipped.

The corners of his lips quirked up. “My eyes may disagree with you there. I’m sure I read somewhere that UV rays can cause lots of damage to the cornea.”

He had no idea if that was true, but this was what he and Clara did. They joked. They laughed. They said outrageous things to each other. Everything with Clara was easy, so whywas he so afraid to acknowledge that he felt more for her than friendship?

Why had he been so hellbent on marrying someone who didn’t give him what Clara gave him?

He had to be truthful with her.

“I dodged a bullet by not marrying Fern. I didn’t love her the way a man who’d committed his life to a woman should. She saved us from making a huge mistake.” He grabbed Clara by her upper arms so that he could look her directly in the eyes. “I. Didn’t. Love. Her.”

Chapter 4

Everything in Clarastilled at Ben’s confession. Her traitorous heart leapt with hope that he was about to say that he loved her.

What? Ben doesn’t love me. Like I don’t love him.

Liar! You’ve loved him since you met him when you were thirteen. It’s why you couldn’t give yourself to John. Why you broke up with him.

Great, she was having a mental argument with herself in the middle of the street with Ben clutching her as if she was his lifeline in the middle of a windstorm.

“What?” There was nothing else she could say because her mind wasn’t working properly.

“Fern. I don’t love her. Ilikedandadmiredher. I thought I loved her, but I didn’t. Not the way I should’ve. I should never have asked her to marry me.”

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