Page 150 of Between the Blue
“Well,” she says, spinning back to Ben, “I think I’m going to run to the ladies’ room really quickly before we start white elephant. Do I have time?”
“Wouldn’t start without you,” he tells her.
And, suddenly, my face feels hot.
“You remember where the bathroom is?” Ben asks Kelly.
“Of course,” she replies, patting his chest as she walks by him. “Be back in a jiffy.”
And then she slips out of the kitchen door, leaving me and Ben alone.
I quickly return my attention to my eggnog, pouring myself about double the size glass as I originally planned.
“Did you want some bourbon for that?”
“I already put some in here,” I say, screwing the lid back on the jug, then looking up at Ben. “So, yes.”
He grabs a bottle of bourbon from the liquor cart to his side, walking over and setting it on the counter in front of me. I pick it up, pouring a splash into my cup, and then one more small one for good measure. Then I pick up my drink, taking two large gulps and savoring the instant rush of warmth it sends through me.
I stare into my drink for a few moments before raising my gaze to look at Ben and finding him already watching me.
“Just go ahead and say it,” he tells me.
“Say what?”
“Whatever it is you’re thinking.”
I lean against the kitchen island. “Kelly certainly knows her way around your house.”
“Well, she’s been here quite a few times.”
I take another drink. “Does she like bourbon?”
“She does.”
“Hmm,” I hum, swirling the liquid around in my cup. “Well at least her taste in liquor is adequate.”
Ben’s lips press together, seeming to hold back a smug smile. “She actually brought that bottle.”
“I’ve had better,” I lie. And then, deciding I’m over whatever this conversation is, I push off the counter, walking around Ben and towards the kitchen door.
“Well, it’s her favorite,” he calls from behind me.
“Good for her,” I mutter.
“I think that’s why she put it in her and Wiz’s signature drink at their wedding.”
My feet slow to a stop, and I look over my shoulder from the doorway. “Her…and…Wiz?”
“Mhmm,” Ben nods, a smirk pulling at his lips.
“She’s married to John Wisneski,” I state.
“For about five years now.”
“So, she’s not here with you.”
“Correct,” Ben says, taking the steps necessary to close the distance between us.
