The Nanny's Knickers

by Wren Mingua

  "BE CAREFUL, Ben!" she yelled at him. "You're going to get us killed!"

  "I'm always careful!" he insisted.

  "Yeah... sure! You almost hit a guy!"

  "It's the bloke's fault! He wasn't paying attention!"

  Zoe simultaneously shook her head and rolled her eyes. In times like this, she felt like Ben was showing his age. Recklessness was usually a trademark of youth, and Benjamin Eastham was no exception.

  Ben parked the Vespa near Hyde Park. When Zoe whipped off her helmet, he had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing. Several pieces of hair had escaped from her bun, and the wisps made her look like Medusa. All the color in her face had relocated to her cheeks, and her eyes were glassy and panicked.

  "Are you alright?" he asked.

  "Considering the fact that you almost gave me a PANIC ATTACK, I think I'm okay," she said. "Where are we?"

  "Hyde Park. I'm taking you to Kensington Palace. There's a little place where we can have tea and biscuits."

  In her best British accent, Zoe said, "Oh! Tea and crumpets like a proper English gent! Cheerio!"

  Ben chuckled at her overly posh impersonation. "I hope that wasn't an impression of me." He took her by the hand and led her into the park.

  "I bet I look like crap after that long ride."

  "Not quite like crap," he said. If she was fishing for compliments, she wasn't going to get any from Ben. English people, Zoe had noticed, had a tendency to be scathingly honest. "If you're crap, you're adorable crap."

  "Adorable crap?!"

  "You've got hair sticking up all over the place," he admitted, flitting his fingers across her fly-away strands. "You look a bit like Medusa."

  "Great," she responded sarcastically. "Then we're like Apollo and Medusa, out for a weekend stroll."

  "You think I'm like Apollo?"

  "The thought crossed my mind," she confessed, remembering the image of him when he first arrived. Why wasn't his hair a mess?! When the wind tousled Ben's hair, it only made him look more gorgeous. How was that possible? "You know you're good-looking."

  "I do?"

  "I'm sure you do."

  As they traveled through the park, they passed a bronze statue of Peter Pan, where a couple of tourists were posing and taking pictures. Then they passed an old couple, who Ben pointed at and said, "That'll be us some day."

  "Except I'll be ten years older than you," she noted.

  Ben grinned a bit, surprised that she didn't completely shoot down the idea. "By the time we're that old, those years won't matter as much. We'll both be old as piss."

  She swatted him on the head. "Geez! That's not nice! You Brits and your candor... I swear to god!"

  "You'll probably have to wipe my arse when I'm that old. You think you'll be okay with that?"

  "No. I don't think I'd ever be okay with that."

  "Aww." He laid his head on her shoulder. "That's my Zoe. Always a sweetheart."

  When the red brick of Kensington Palace came into view, Zoe asked, "Didn't Queen Victoria live here?"

  "That's probably something I should know, but I honestly have no idea."

  Ben reached for her hand, and he was a bit surprised she didn't pull away. Hand-in-hand, they took a self-guided tour of the palace, walking in the footsteps of Queen Victoria. In one of the galleries, a dress worn by Princess Diana was on display. After touring the palace, Ben led her out to the Orangery, an impressive little conservatory that served sandwiches and snacks.

  Ben handed her a menu, which she browsed with some reluctance. After her experience in The Winged Wench, Zoe learned to approach English food with caution.

  "I want a scone," she announced.

  "Ever tried clotted cream?"

  Zoe shook her head. "Uh... no. What's so clotted about it?"

  Ben chuckled. "It's cream, it's thick, and it's quite good. But we should probably get you some jam, just in case."

  They ordered tea, jam and scones, and it was starting to feel like a proper afternoon in Britain. Ben showed her the proper way to make tea, which apparently involved milk and a tiny amount of sugar. Zoe bravely slathered her scone in clotted cream, and she was surprised to discover that she liked it. Something called "clotted cream" had to be terrible for her health, so she was glad her mom wasn't around to give her a lecture.

  "So, Ben..." Zoe smacked her lips, licking off a bit of jam. "You've been pretty persistent about wanting to date me. What is it that you like about me? I don't think I'm anything special. But you? You're..."

  When she didn't finish, his curiosity was piqued. "I'm... what?"

  Zoe shrugged. "You know. You're hot, smart, charming. You went to Oxford, and it looks like you come from a rich family. You've obviously got a lot going for you."

  Ben smiled in appreciation of her compliments. "Thanks. But I don't think I'm anything special."

  Zoe tried to feed him a bite of her scone, which was covered in clotted cream. He took a bite, but he had a bit of cream on his lip, so she wiped it with a napkin. "How do you like clotted cream, by the way?" he asked.

  "I like it. But, uh... aren't you changing the subject?" She wagged an accusatory finger at him "I think you only like me because you want to bag the obligatory older woman. It's probably a right of passage for every guy under twenty-five. Am I right?"

  "Nooo!" Ben protested. "I haven't even taken your age into consideration. It obviously doesn't bother me as much as it bothers you... silly girl. And to answer your question, there are many things I like about you. You're clever, fun, sweet, you're good with children. You challenge me to be a better person. Not to mention, you're absolutely gorgeous. What's not to like about you?" He nudged her with his elbow. "I even like the fact that you're American."

  Zoe clasped a hand over her heart and gasped. "Even that? Surely not!"

  "You'd be surprised at how many British boys fancy American women. It's the truth." And with that, he devoured his last bit of scone. "Are you ready to go?"

  "Yep."

  They paid their bill and headed back to the Vespa. Ben made her wear the helmet, and Zoe didn't protest this time because she knew what a reckless driver he was. Ben took them to Camden Town, the location of his new flat.

  As soon as they got there, Zoe had to ask, "So... the friend who helped you move in... was it a guy friend or a girl friend?"

  "A bloke," Ben assured her. "It's good to know you're concerned about my relationship status."

  "I'm not!" she protested. "I was just... curious."

  "Right. Sure." He took her hand and led her up to his apartment, a sparsely furnished one-room studio. He had a queen-sized mattress, a leather sofa, a moderately-sized television, and little else. There were boxes piled up in one corner of the room, which was to be expected since he had just moved in. Zoe thought she smelled cinnamon, which she almost asked him about, then she spotted an enormous red candle on the room's only coffee table. It was refreshing to find a bachelor who wanted to keep his domicile smelling relatively decent.

  "So, am I really going to stay here the entire weekend?"

  "That's the plan, yes." Ben stood in the center of the room with his hands on his hips. "I know it could benefit from some sprucing up, but I just moved in. What can you expect?"

  "It's... nice."

  "You sound disappointed."

  "Well, there's only one bed," she pointed out the obvious.

  "So there is. But don't worry. I was planning on sleeping on the sofa."

  Zoe thought of all the movies she'd seen, and all the books she had read, where the hero and heroine were faced with the impossible situation of sharing a room--and a single bed. The situation usually resulted in the heroine insisting they could share the bed, that they could be adults about the situation--or some such nonsense. Zoe wasn't going to say that. If he was willing to sleep on the sofa, she was going to let him.

  Ben collapsed on the couch and patted his knee. "Come here. Come sit on my lap. Two days ago, we were getting quite cozy until Lewis had
to show up and ruin the moment. I think we should pick up where we left off."

  For some reason, Zoe was feeling particularly pliable. He didn't need to ask twice. She was on his lap in a flash. "Well," she announced. "I'm here. What are you going to do now?"

  Ben tapped her on the nose a few times. "My dream girl," he whispered.

  "You really think I'm your dream girl? Isn't that kind of an exaggeration?"

  "No. You really are." Ben cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand. The hand glided across the curve of her neck, down to her shoulder. Every touch made her skin tingle like crazy.

  "I never thought you'd do it," she said.

  "Do what?"

  "Get me to like you."

  Ben's hand returned to her cheek. He leaned forward, closing in on her mouth, waiting for her to protest. When she didn't, his mouth caught her in a kiss. His tongue darted out, tasting her moist lips. Zoe moaned into his mouth. Was she really letting this happen? She didn't see any reason to stop him, because kissing Ben was the most sensual thing she had ever experienced. He ran his fingertips along her jaw as he kissed her, and she thought she could feel electricity in his fingers.

  She couldn't let him go any further. As soon as the kiss ended, she jumped from his lap and rushed over to the mattress. When she was brave enough to steal a glimpse of Ben, he was adorably dazed.

  "Zoeeee!" he whined, holding out his arms to her. "Come back to meeee!"

  Zoe didn't oblige. She sat down on the mattress, picked up the blankets, and gave them a sniff. "Are these clean?" she asked.

  "The blankets? Of course they are!" He was pouting, not because of the blankets, but because she had vacated his lap in such a hurry. He wanted--no, needed--to have her in his arms.

  "You haven't been wanking under them, have you?"

  Ben snickered at the question. "No! And it seems you've been brushing up on your British slang, haven't you?"

  Zoe slipped under the blankets and pulled them to her chin. They were soft, but not as soft as Ben's lips. If her conscience wasn't screaming at her, she would have liked to kiss him again and again. "Oh please, Ben," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Everyone knows what wanking means!"

  "They do?" Under his breath, he added, "Well, I guess that's what I'll be doing tonight..."

  Chapter Sixteen

  Excerpt from Zoe's blog--

  You know what's awkward? Spending a weekend with a guy and you know he wants to shag you.

  Wait, did I just write "shag?" I think I can safely say I've been here too long!

  When Zoe got back from her weekend jaunt in London, the first thing she did was check on Chris. She noticed that he took down his "KEEP OUT" sign. Did that mean she was welcome to visit him now?

  He put down his Nintendo DS as soon as he saw her come in. "Zoe!" his eyes lit up. "You're back!"

  Zoe sat at the end of his bed. She found his foot beneath the covers and gave it a little squeeze. "So I am! How have you been?"

  He shrugged. "Awight, I guess. Did you get to see Big Ben?"

  "Not this time," Zoe said. Why was Ben's penis the first thing that came to mind when she heard him say Big Ben? She had never seen that Big Ben, but she was sure she could if she wanted to. "When's the last time you've been to London?"

  "'Bout six months ago. My mum took me to see The Lion King on my birthday."

  "Well cool! That sounds like fun." Zoe gave him another pat on the foot. "I missed you, you know."

  Chris sneered at her for a few seconds, as if he was skeptical. Finally, he said, "I missed you too."

  It was her turn to be surprised. "Did you?!"

  "Kind of."

  Zoe smiled. Kind of wasn't exactly a yes, but she would take it!

  "I missed you more than I've missed my mum," Chris admitted, which surprised her even more. "But that doesn't mean I want to give you a hug or anything."

  "What if I want to give you a hug?"

  "Ummm..." Chris tilted his head as he considered her offer. "Well... I guess it'd be alright."

  As Zoe bent down and captured him in her arms, she couldn't help but be impressed with the progress they had made. He didn't even raise a fuss when she kissed him on the forehead.

  "Zoe?"

  "Yes?"

  "You know those bruises on my stomach?"

  How could she forget? She had been worrying about him ever since she set eyes on them. "Of course."

  "It's not just 'cuz I was hitting myself," Chris confessed. "Sometimes... I get bullied."

  "Bullied?!"

  "Yeah." He broke eye contact and started fidgeting with the frayed end of his blanket. "By a boy called Walter and his mates. He punched me in the stomach and took my five pounds."

  "Does this happen all the time?!" Zoe asked. She was already wondering if she could get in contact with Walter's parents and give them a piece of her mind.

  "No... not really," Chris said with a shrug. "I mean, it's only happened once this year. But it's not the first time they've come after me."

  Zoe unzipped her purse, which was she still carrying with her, and pulled out a ten pound note. She grabbed Chris' hand and shoved the bill into his palm. "Here," she said. "That should make up for those stupid bullies taking your money."

  "Thanks." He sat up and laid the ten pound note on his nightstand. "My dad's a cheapskate. He doesn't give me anything."

  "When does this happen, Chris? The bullying?"

  "After school," he replied. "Please don't say anything to anyone. I'd never live it down."

  "But I--"

  "Please!" Chris pleaded. "Please don't say anything, especially not to my dad. I don't want anyone to know about it. I already have a hard time at school. No one likes me. I don't have any friends."

  "I'm your friend." Zoe reached over and gave his hair a ruffle.

  "So you won't say anything?" Chris asked, sticking to his guns. "If people find out I've been whining about getting punched, I'd look like a poof!"

  As much as she wanted to find this Walter and give him a taste of his own medicine, Chris trusted her enough to tell her his secret, and she didn't want to betray his trust. "It's... okay. I won't say anything. But when I pick you up from school tomorrow, I'll have my eye out for Walter."

  "Fair enough." Chris started to slide under the blankets, but then he sat up again. His eyes lit up like he'd had an epiphany. "Hey, do you want to play Mario Kart?"

  "Umm..."

  When he heard her hesitate, Chris' shoulders fell. "I knew you wouldn't want to..."

  "Wait! I do!" Zoe exclaimed. "I do, actually. Do you want to go play right now?"

  After Chris' nodded, Zoe took him by the arm and headed into the game room, where they played Mario Kart for two hours straight. This time, she listened to Chris' advice on which characters to pick and which ones not to pick. Donkey Kong, in Chris' opinion, was for more experienced players, and since Zoe certainly wasn't experienced, she decided to stick to the ones Chris recommended. She did see some improvement in her gaming skills at the end of two hours.

  When game time was over, she sent him off to bed and sat in the game room for awhile. Her mind wandered to Ben, as it often did. Most of the time, she thought she was crazy for indulging in a--what was it? It wasn't quite a relationship, but it seemed to be heading that way. And she certainly did miss him, now that he was gone.

  "Zoe." At first, she thought it was Ben's voice, because they sounded awfully similar. Then she looked up and saw Lewis and was crestfallen.

  "Hi," she greeted him as politely as possible.

  "You're up late," he noted. "And it's a Sunday night."

  "Yeah. I guess so."

  "You have to take Chris to school tomorrow. You didn't forget, did you?"

  "I know. I'm sorry."

  "Oh, there's no need to apologize." Lewis stood behind the couch, which meant his pelvis was directly behind her head. It was making her a bit uncomfortable, to say the least. "But you really shouldn't keep Chris up so late when he's got school the nex
t day."

  "Oh." Zoe checked her watch. It was a little after midnight, and she had sent Chris to bed about fifteen minutes ago. "Geez, I'm really sorry. I guess time just got away from me."

  "It's alright." Lewis laid a hand on the couch, right next to her shoulder. "Just don't do it again. His regular bedtime is--"

  "Ten o'clock. I know. I'm sorry."

  "You don't have to keep apologizing." Lewis' fingers brushed against her shoulder, against her bra strap. "I'm not as much of a stickler as Gemma was. Aren't you glad she's gone? I know I am."

  "I don't know if Chris is so happy about it."

  "Well, he'll learn to live with it," Lewis said with a chuckle. "Actually, Gemma's been wanting him to come live with her. Which would be a tragedy, really. He's obviously better off with me."

  "What would happen to me... if he went to live with Gemma?"

  Zoe's question made his eyebrows raise. "I have no idea. I guess we'll worry about that when it happens, won't we? By the way..." His fingers kept caressing her shoulder, so Zoe got up. When she did, Lewis' eyes were drawn to her thighs, which were exposed by her pajama shorts. He was so transfixed by the sight of her legs, he completely lost track of what he was saying. Zoe realized what he was staring at, so she tugged down her shorts a bit.

  "Were you going to say something?" she asked.

  "Oh yes. Of course..." Lewis faked a smile. "How was your date with my brother? I assume it went quite well, considering the fact that you were gone the entire weekend..."

  "It wasn't a date."

  "It wasn't? Something tells me Benjamin would have a slightly different perspective on that. But then again..." Lewis scratched his stubble-covered chin. "He doesn't like to take anything seriously, so maybe you're right."

  "What do you mean by that? It was just a date. It wasn't like we--"

  "Oh, so it WAS a date?" Lewis challenged her.

  "No. We're just friends. It's--"

  Lewis took a few steps in her direction, and his hand was back on her shoulder again. He gave her a squeeze, which was meant to be reassuring, but it made her skin crawl. "It's okay, Zoe. If you like my brother, I won't hold it against you. I'd rather you like me, of course, but since you'd made it clear that you don't..." As he shook his head, his hand slid away from her shoulder. "Honestly, why won't you even go out with me for a cup of coffee?"