With twenty seconds to go on the microwave—the most tenuous of them all, unless you liked scorched, smelly popcorn aroma—he watched as Morgan opened the door.
…
Benny didn’t know what had brought her to Henry’s. They had no plans, and with Operation Luke successfully underway with tomorrow’s impending date, there was no reason for her to stop by Henry’s place.
But she hadn’t seen him since Wednesday night, when he made his hasty exit rather than hang out and discuss the finer details of her date or watch their favorite show. Then last night she’d listened for him, but by the time she finally turned in after ten, he still hadn’t come home. It was something of a surprise when she pulled into the parking garage tonight—a Friday night, no less—and found his car in its space. Even on his side of the line.
Sitting at her place, she’d fought the urge to come over. She normally couldn’t stand the guy and now she wanted to see him and talk to him and just…be with him. It was kind of pathetic. She’d become one of Henry Ellison’s groupies.
So she’d resolved to let him come and say hi first.
That had only lasted until two minutes ago, when she decided she was being silly. They were friends now. Why not stop and see if he wanted to chat? And she did have a couple of questions to ask him about golf, since tomorrow she was supposed to be teeing off with Luke, acting like she actually knew what she was doing. She still hadn’t figured out what she was going to do there.
What she hadn’t counted on when she pulled on her slippers and navy polka-dot pajamas and headed over was that he would have a guest.
Not just any guest, either.
A gorgeous, towering blonde with honey highlights and lovely dark eyes, who was watching Benny with curiosity.
What had she been thinking? Best just to cut her losses and make a quick escape, especially since the silence seemed to go on as the woman waited for Benny to say something.
“Hi, can I help you?” she finally asked when Benny’s tongue remained twisted.
Big-girl panties. Pull. Up.
Benny smiled brightly. “Sorry. I was going to ask Henry a quick question, but I didn’t realize he had company. I’ll just stop by another time.”
“No. Please. Don’t go. He’s just in the kitchen. Come in.”
Benny stared at the floor like it was lit with burning coals. No way was she going in there to stand next to this gorgeous creature when she looked like this—least of all when it was obvious the two wanted to be alon—
“Hi, Benny!” A small pixie face appeared at the woman’s side, and Benny looked at her in confusion for a minute. “Ella? What are you doing here?”
“So you’re the mysterious Benny. I’m Morgan. Henry’s sister.”
At that moment, Henry reached the door holding a bag of popcorn in his hand. The buttery smell
was almost as good as the sight of him standing there in a relaxed jeans that hung from slim hips, a formfitting black tee, and an easy grin. Yum.
Whoa. Where did that come from?
Friends, Benny. You’re only friends. Henry Ellison is and will always be way out of your league. No matter what she was wearing or how she styled her hair.
Still…she wished she’d gone with something less embarrassing than her pajamas.
“Sorry to just stop by unannounced. As I was telling your sister, I’ll catch you later.”
“Why? Come in. We’re about to watch a movie.”
“You can sit by me,” Ella said and grabbed her hand.
“I’ll stay for a minute,” Benny said as Ella led her over to the couch.
Only as the movie started and Ella nestled into her, Benny was having a harder time remembering why she needed to leave. Especially when Morgan would break in to give some commentary about society’s expectations of girls compared to boys, and Henry played devil’s advocate and agreed with the norms just to yank his sister’s chain before giving Benny a quick wink and a playful smile that had her stomach fluttering unnaturally.
Soon enough, the movie was over and Ella was half asleep in Morgan’s arms while they said their good nights. “It was really nice meeting you, Benny,” his sister said before turning an odd smile in her brother’s direction.
“I should be going, too,” she said, making a point to look at the time on her cell phone. Only it was eight thirty, and she couldn’t very well say it was time she hit the hay too.