Page 118 of Just Another Silly Love Song
I sighed. “Fine, but maybe we should be more worried about Kyle than who kisses who first.”
Ben shook his head. “I told you . . . he won’t be able to say anything if our ratings keep going up and our listeners love us. Let’s not worry about that right now. Come in.” He waved me in. “Mi casa es tu casa.”
I smirked. “Gracias.” I walked by him and stopped in the living room.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Ben asked. “I’m having orange juice, but I’ve got everything.”
I nodded. “OJ sounds great—thank you.”
“Coming right up.”
I plopped myself down on the comfy sofa and set my purse on the table, watching as Ben went to the kitchen with Bob Barker right at his side.
“Wow, he really likes you. You’re like the pack leader.”
Ben pulled the juice out of the refrigerator and grabbed two glasses from the cupboard, setting them both on the counter. “He’s been like that since he got here yesterday. Wherever I go, he goes.” Ben reached down and scratched Bob Barker on the head.
There was something about seeing the gentler side of Ben that made my heart melt even more. It was so endearing the way Ben looked at the dog.
Crazy, but it was the same way he looked at me.
Ben came back to the living room and handed me the glass of juice, clinking his glass with mine. “Cheers.”
I smiled. “Cheers.” I took a sip of the juice.
Ben slid onto the loveseat across from me, and Bob Barker immediately jumped on his lap. “This is ridiculous. I have a sixty-five-pound lap dog.”
The dog laid his head on Ben’s lap.
“What’s Bob’s story?” I asked.
“His owner moved to Europe, couldn’t take him along. That’s it.”
I smiled. “Now, he’s got you. Have you had dogs before?”
Ben nodded. “Just one. My ex has him now.”
It was never fun or recommended to talk about your exes, but technically we were talking about the dog, not the former woman in his life.
“Oh . . . that must have been hard.”
“The breakup with the dog was a hundred times harder than the breakup with the woman.” He chuckled as Bob Barker rolled over and sprawled out across the loveseat and Ben’s lap. “Can you believe this? Make yourself at home.” He grinned. “I guess he likes it here.”
I glanced around Ben’s house. “How long have you lived here?”
“Almost ten years. I bought the place from my Grandpa Wayne after my grandma died.”
I nodded. “And it was already yellow when you moved in?”
“No. I painted it yellow.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
I took another sip of my orange juice and set it down on the table. “I don’t know . . . it’s just . . . you keep surprising me. Don’t get me wrong, I mean that in a good way.” I stood and walked over to the shelves that lined the wall from the floor to the ceiling.
Ben had so many books, DVDs, and—
