Page 9 of Falling for the Forbidden
His eyes flash with something. Excitement, shock, I’m not sure. It’s not until I see his reaction that I realise I said those words out loud.
“Dangerous?” he repeats, intrigue filling his voice.
“Uh…yeah…anyone ever tell you you’re a shit driver?”
His laugh lightens the atmosphere in the car. It’s like I can breathe properly for the first time since being pushed inside it. “No, no one’s ever told me that.”
“First time for everything,” I mutter quietly. I’m not expecting an answer, so I jump a little when I hear his voice.
“I guess there is.”
I’ve no idea if it’s meant to be, but it feels like a promise. My thighs clench and my cheeks flush with embarrassment. “You okay?” When I risk a look, he’s got a sexy little smirk playing on his lips.
Damn him.
“Yeah. I’m good. Thanks. What were you and my dad arguing about?”
Blowing out a long breath, he considers his answer. “It would probably be quicker to go through the things we don’t argue about.”
“Oh?” I knew they didn’t really see eye-to-eye, but I didn’t realise things between them were that bad.
“It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
“No, but you can tell me anyway.”
“He just…doesn’t agree with my choices.”
“What choices?”
“All of them.” Pulling the car to a stop, he looks over at me. His face is softer than I’m used to seeing, but it’s clear his walls are built right up. There’s no way I’m breaking them down anytime soon, if ever. Not that I’m sure I want to. “No one deserves to be dragged into my life.”
“You’re forgetting something.”
“I am?”
“Like it or not, I’m part of your life. I’m already in it. So what’s the harm in sharing the load?”
“Motherfucker,” he mutters, but it’s with a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “Things aren’t always what they appear to be. Let’s just leave it at that.”
I open my mouth to question his cryptic statement, but before I get a chance to say anything, he’s out of the car and shutting his door behind him.
For the first time since he came to a stop, I look out the window and focus on where he’s brought us. The park.
“Ben, what are—oh!” I can’t help but laugh as I watch him lift a picnic basket from the boot of his car. It’s wicker and has red and white gingham fabric poking out from the edge. It’s the last thing I think I ever expected to see him carrying.
With my eyebrows raised in surprise, I look up at him.
“I was meant to be meeting friends for a picnic,” he says with a shrug.
“Y—you should go. Don’t change your plans for me.”
“Lauren,” he says, stopping and turning his angry eyes on me. I suck in a breath at their intensity, but I know it isn’t directed at me. “There isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be.”
My lips form an O and I fall into step beside him.
With the basket in one hand and a blanket tucked under his arm, he places his other hand at the small of my back and guides me towards the vast expanse of grass beyond.
We come to a stop under a huge oak tree and Ben shakes out the blanket before placing the basket in the middle and lying down next to it.
