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Authors: Wanda Degolier

Mustard on Top (21 page)

BOOK: Mustard on Top
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When Ben slipped his arm around her, Helen bit her lip. Her mind and body warred. She wanted to fold into his arms and let down her guard.

“As much as I love to, I’ve never had sex simply to have sex,” Helen said.

Ben inhaled and his rib cage pressed into her. “What can I do to earn your respect?” he asked.

His question hit home; she didn’t respect him. “Selflessly act from your heart, not from your guilt,” she answered.

Ben’s other arm swung around her encasing her in his embrace. “The foot rub was from my heart.”

“Maybe.”

“I do love your feet.”

“Just not the rest of me.” The statement had popped out, and Helen regretted how childish she sounded.

“Ouch.” Ben let her go.

“My apologies.”

“I’m not sure I even know what love is.” Ben’s voice grew serious. “You’re right. My life has been dominated by my own desires, though not nearly as badly as you imagine. I changed after that night, I…” He sucked in a breath of air, puffing his cheeks out. Slowly they deflated buying him time. “I haven’t… Can I hold you awhile? You feel good in my arms.”

Tired and tipsy, Helen feared she’d topple over. Being held, even cherished a little, sounded pleasant. She leaned into him, laying her head against his chest. His chin rested lightly on the top of her head.

“I’m going to fall asleep,” Helen confessed.

“Lay down with me.”

“Uh.”

“I won’t try anything. I promise.”

“For a little while.” Fully clothed, Ben lay on top of the covers then held his hands out in invitation. Helen slid in next to him. She lay on her side, fitting her shoulder perfectly beneath his armpit while her head rested on his chest. When Ben wrapped both arms around her, Helen let a slow smile spread across her face.

Ben stroked her hair. “Helen?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for being a great mother to Theo. You’re my hero.”

Helen yawned. “Silly.” She closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.

****

Helen woke when the front door slammed. She discovered Ben lying next to her in bed and bolted upright. She remembered lying down and nothing else.

“Mom!” Theo yelled from the hallway.

Used to her celibacy, Theo had a habit of barging into her room. Horrified he’d find them in bed, Helen threw off the covers and stood. Ha! She was fully dressed. She headed toward her bedroom door when it swung open.

“Mom.”

Helen froze. “Theo! Out!”

Theo didn’t budge. Instead, his gaze drifted toward Ben. “Oops, sorry.”

Heat rushed to her face. “What are you doing here? You are not supposed to be here. Jeremy. Remember?”

“You said there didn’t seem to be anyone watching.”

Helen pinched the bridge of her nose. “I asked you not to come here until Jeremy was gone.”

“Sorry. I needed some clothes. All the ones I took with me are dirty.”

Had Theo never heard of a laundromat?
Helen heard movement and turned to find Ben sitting up and grinning. The smile vexed her until she remembered he always looked at Theo with that goofy grin. Ben was wrong about love. He loved Theo.

“Good morning Theo,” Ben chimed.

“This isn’t what—” Helen started to protest the obvious conclusion, when Theo blurted, “Cool, is this the real reason you two didn’t want me here?”

“Of course not.” Helen was incredulous. “Now out of my room.” Denying anything happened would only make her sound guilty. Besides, she didn’t owe him an explanation. The fact he looked delighted made her embarrassment worse.

“I’ll leave my laundry in—”

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.” She made a shooing motion.

“I’m going up to Seattle today with some friends.” Still he stood in the doorway like he wanted to chat. Why didn’t Ben say something to get him moving?

“Okay.” Helen fought the urge to push him out and slam the door.

“So where’s Jeremy?”

“In the basement. Out.” Helen shoved Theo’s chest, and he finally stepped back.

Theo grinned even wider. “I guess you two want your privacy.”

“Theo. Ugh.” Helen closed the door in his face then turned to glare at Ben. “What are you doing in my bed?”

Ben tossed the blanket aside revealing he, too, was fully dressed. “There wasn’t any harm done.”

“No harm. Are you kidding me?”

“You do realize Theo and Emma—”

“Don’t say it.” Helen held up a hand. “This is so embarrassing. Getting caught when I hadn’t even done anything.” Helen muttered to herself, “Then he’s happy. That’s wrong on so many levels.” Helen paced. “I’ve got to say something to him. I can’t just leave things.”

“He’s a mature kid, he can handle it,” Ben said. “Maybe he knows you need more in your life. Could be he’s relieved.”

“Relieved?”

“Relieved and happy for you.”

Helen tried to recall Theo’s face. She’d been too embarrassed to pay attention.

“It’ll be okay,” Ben soothed.

Helen swung her gaze toward him. “I’ll be the one dealing with this after you leave, so don’t tell me it’ll be okay.”

Ben held his hands up in surrender.

In the following silence, Helen listened to Theo moving around the house.

Jeremy’s raspy voice broke the relative quiet. “Don’t leave me. They’re holding me hostage!”

“I’ll go to him.” Ben got up.

The bedroom door flew open again. “Jeremy looks awful,” Theo said. “And something stinks bad in the basement.”

“I’m going down to him right now.” Ben passed through the door. His backward glance told Helen their conversation wasn’t over.

“I opened the doors to air out the house,” Theo announced.

Helen’s headache flared up, and she squeezed the bridge of her nose. “Theo, about me and Ben—”

“Don’t worry, Mom. I think it’s cool. I’m glad you finally found someone.”

“I didn’t
find
him—It’s not like… Ugh. We’re just friends.”

“I’m not a kid anymore, I see the way you look at each other.”

Helen’s mouth dropped open.

“I’ve got to go, Emma’s waiting in the car. We good?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I’ll catch you later.”

Chapter 12

Ben dreaded going into the basement and was pleasantly surprised to find Jeremy sitting up and watching
The Price is Right
. With the remote clutched in one hand, Jeremy ignored him. The stink Ben had come to associate with Jeremy lingered, but there was nothing new to clean up.

Some color had returned to his cheeks, although he still hadn’t eaten any food.

Ben grabbed the empty water bottle and ascended the stairs to the kitchen where he planned to make Jeremy’s elixir. Helen stood by the refrigerator drinking a glass of milk. She, too, was pale and her features drawn.

“You okay?” Ben asked.

She nodded. “I’ll be fine.”

“Sorry if I made things worse. I’ll tell Theo whatever you want me to about us.”

Helen waved him off. “You were right. He’s happy, elated even, with the idea of us.” She made a pained face when she said the word
us.
“He’s going to be disappointed when you leave.” She gulped her milk.

“I want to remain friends. I’ll be back to visit often.”

Helen’s smile was straight and tight and her gaze unwavering.

“Jeremy is getting better,” Ben said to change the topic.

“That’s good news.”

“I’m mixing up a new batch of his medicine.”

“Great. I think I’ll go check on Agatha.”

Apprehension pricked his nerves. “I’m coming with you.”

“There’s no need.”

“But Moe’s car is parked out front. I saw it this morning.”

Helen drew in a deep breath. “I know. If Agatha doesn’t open the door then we can panic.”

“Helen.”

“If we both go, it’ll look suspicious.”

“How about I pull weeds in the front yard? You can give me some kind of signal showing me everything’s okay,” Ben said. “Or not.”

“Fine. I’ll flip my hair over my shoulder if everything’s okay; if not I’ll stick both my hands in my pant’s pockets.”

“Good plan.”

Ben followed her out the front door. Under the guise of pulling weeds, he watched Helen knock. Agatha opened the door and stepped onto the porch. A few minutes later, Helen flipped her hair and Ben returned to tending Jeremy. After mixing his concoction and making a fresh sandwich, he went downstairs.

“How are you feeling?” Ben stepped in front of the television and set the food on the box of records, moonlighting as a coffee table.

“Like a caged tiger,” Jeremy snarled.

“You look better.”

Jeremy eyed the food. “When can I get this off my foot and get out of here?”

No curse words, Ben noted. They’d made progress. “Helen’s meeting with your mom as we speak, so hopefully we’ll have an answer for you soon.”

Jeremy stared at the television as if Ben weren’t blocking his view.

“You probably ought to eat something,” Ben said.

When Jeremy didn’t respond, Ben went back upstairs and peeked out the front window. Helen and Agatha were no longer on the porch. He gathered his tools and got to work on the roof, a better place for keeping watch.

Helen had been gone an hour before Agatha’s pink Mercedes came down the alley. Agatha drove, and Helen sat in the passenger’s seat. Ben exhaled sweet relief and forced himself to focus on finishing the roof.

Later, Helen joined him on the rooftop. She wore a T-shirt, work jeans, and work gloves and her wet hair glistened in the sunlight. When she smiled at him, Ben’s mouth went dry. The woman got prettier by the minute. “You’re beautiful.”

“Oh stop.”

“You honestly don’t seem to know.” Used to women using their beauty to get ahead, he found Helen refreshing.

Helen shook her head. He’d been drawn to her as a teen because she was beautiful on the outside, now he was mature enough to recognize her inner beauty and strength. The combination intoxicated him.

Helen crawled up the side of the roof, picked up a shingle, and sang, “We’re almost done.”

“So what’s going on with Agatha?”

Helen glanced at Agatha’s house, scooted closer, and whispered, “Not sure we should talk up here. I’ll tell you later.”

“I saw her drive off.”

Helen held a finger to her lips. Although Ben doubted anyone could hear them, he agreed to wait.

“What do you think?” Helen surveyed the roof. “Will we finish today?”

“We should.”

****

Ben sliced through the last shingle, cutting it to size, and offered it to Helen. “You want to do the honors?”

“Sure.” Helen accepted the shingle.

Ben scooted out of her way, and Helen caught a whiff of his aftershave. The smell conjured the memory of the kiss they’d shared the night before. Helen drew in a breath, annoyed her how easily Ben had wriggled his way into her heart.

After positioning the shingle into place, she scanned the rooftop. “This is fantastic.” She pounded one nail in and was positioning for the next when a large white, windowless van pulled in front of her house. She glanced at Ben.

“You stay here. I’ll find out what’s happening,” he said.

Helen thought Ben was overprotective, but was grateful to have someone worrying about her. Helen followed Ben to the ladder. “Please stay up here where I know you’re safe. Please.”

Crossing her arms her over chest, Helen dropped onto her butt.

“Thank you.” In a quick move, Ben pecked her on the cheek then scrambled down the ladder.

A side-panel door on the van opened, and a man popped out carrying a clipboard. The interior of the van exploded with color. Flowers? The van driver scanned the front of Helen’s home then consulted his clipboard. Helen assumed the flowers were for Agatha. The deliveryman leaned into the van and lifted out a bouquet big enough to cover her entire dining room table. He walked toward Ben.

“Got a delivery for Helen Ableman.”

“I’ll make sure she gets it,” Ben said.

“Is she here? I’ve got specific orders from the sender that she sign for these.”

“Who are you?” Ben asked.

“Roger Clemens. Nalley Floral. Who are
you
?”

Helen hated Ben giving Roger a hard time. Roger was the florist, not the Mafioso. “I’m up here!” Helen called.

Roger looked up, shading his eyes. “Helen?”

She waved.

“If I could get your signature—”

“She’s not signing anything until I read it.”

“Knock yourself out.” Roger shoved the clipboard at Ben’s then walked back toward the van.

Helen climbed down. The giant bouquet of flowers sat on the ground in front of Ben while he read the paperwork. Roger came back with more flowers.

“Would you give me the clipboard?” Helen asked.

“It might be a trap—” he glanced up “—to get your signature.”

“And here I thought they were from you.” Helen plucked the clipboard out of his hand. In the upper left hand of the receipt was the customer information. The flowers were from Seth.

“Don’t—”

BOOK: Mustard on Top
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