Friendzoned (The Busy Bean)

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Friendzoned (The Busy Bean) Page 18

by Rachel Blaufeld


  “Of course I know,” Scott said, not letting Ben finish.

  My head swung back and forth, taking all this in. The whole scene was feeling like something out of a soap opera.

  “I got into trouble,” Branson blurted.

  “Well, you’re Brenna’s boy,” Scott said with a laugh.

  “Hey, that’s my mom,” Branson said sharply, coming to his mom’s defense.

  Ben stepped in to smooth things over. “Your mom and Scott were friends back in high school. She had a good time. Classes were easy for her, and she didn’t get a chance at prep school like me.”

  “I know,” Branson said, fidgeting from foot to foot. “I saw his picture in Mom’s albums. You know when she gets sentimental and starts going through memories?”

  More awkward silence filled the foyer.

  “Listen,” Ben said to Scott, “I’m sorry to barge in on you so unexpectedly. But like I said, the road’s flooded, and I don’t want to take any chances with these two. If we’re not in your way, can we wait it out here?”

  Scott waved a hand. “Of course. It’s no bother. In fact, I just came in from checking the barns. I was going to do some paperwork, but it can wait.”

  Feeling uncomfortable, I said quickly, “You don’t have to entertain us. Do people do this here, show up at other people’s houses and wait out a flood? This wasn’t how I was raised.”

  “Murphy’s from New York,” Ben said to explain.

  Scott gave me a small smile. “Welcome to Vermont.”

  “You got anything to eat?” Branson asked abruptly, just as my stomach growled again, and Ben frowned at him.

  “Looks like everyone is hungry. Go sit down,” Scott said, pointing toward a comfy family room.

  “Are you sure?” I whispered again, this time to Ben when we sat down. As my butt sank into a leather couch with a plaid blanket folded behind me, Ben sat next to me.

  “It’s fine, Murph. No one wants anyone to get hurt here. The Jeep might be able to drive through the water, but it could get shorted out and we’d be stuck.”

  Branson plopped into the chair across from us. “So, you have a girlfriend and we don’t know?” he said to Ben. “Mom’s gonna shit.”

  “Brans, cut it out.”

  “She is . . . seriously. She kept saying you seemed busier than usual, maybe you were inventing something new.”

  “Branson, it’s enough,” Ben said sharply.

  There was an edge to his voice that I didn’t quite recognize. Maybe he was worried his sister wouldn’t like me? I didn’t know what he could be inventing, but I was hung up on him not telling his sister about me.

  “Here.” Scott reappeared with a charcuterie board filled with enough cheeses and meats for thirty people. After setting it on the coffee table in front of us, he took a seat in the chair opposite Branson.

  “Wow,” I said, unable to help myself.

  Scott beamed at me. “We’re making these in our tasting room now. People can come and taste a bunch of different cured meats and cheeses, and drink wine. We sample local varieties. It’s popular with all the tourists.”

  “Interesting,” Ben said.

  “I do some work for Hunnie. From the apiary—”

  “Have some.” Scott interrupted me, and I helped myself to a cheese cube. “Yeah, I know Hunnie. She’s something.”

  “She lives near Grandma and Grandpa. She wants to put in goat yoga,” Branson said, reaching out to snag a piece of what looked like jerky.

  “She is doing it. Goat yoga,” Ben said, correcting him.

  “She’s putting together a petting zoo too,” I told Scott. “I’m working with her on her honey infusions.”

  Scott nodded, understanding. “Gotta capitalize on these people wanting the whole Vermont experience.”

  I wondered if this was what Ben would be doing had he not gone to Pressman, and then on to college and med school.

  Scott turned to Branson, ending any business talk. “How old are you, Branson? You at the high school?”

  “Sixteen. My mom was only nineteen when she had me.”

  I wasn’t sure why Branson chose to reveal this tidbit. Ben didn’t look thrilled, and I guessed it was to piss him off.

  Scott nodded but shrugged like he knew but it wasn’t a big deal in his mind. “Your mom was so much fun in high school. One of the best. I don’t see her much now . . . I miss her smile. She was always a bright spot in everyone’s day. What’s she up to lately?”

  It felt like he was fishing for information, but what exactly, I didn’t know.

  “She still is the bright spot in everyone’s day. Right, Branson?” Ben said, both defending his sister and joking with his nephew.

  I wasn’t sure how he did that, instinctually knowing how to lighten the mood. I’d been trained to control the room for most of my life, and I still struggled with it.

  And just like that, the tension eased and we sat together comfortably, eating and chatting like we were all old friends.

  The rain pounded on, thunder rumbling in the background every few minutes or so, and no one seemed to think this was the strangest moment ever. I tucked my hair behind my ear and caught Ben watching me. His eyes crinkled when he smiled at me, and a warmth spread through me.

  “She works at the hospital,” Branson told Scott. “My mom,” he said to clarify.

  “Oh? With you, Ben?”

  He shook his head. “No, my offices are at the medical building over by the Wayside. I operate at the hospital two or three days per week, depending on emergencies. It makes for a little driving back and forth, but it’s okay.”

  “She runs the information desk. Uncle Ben got her the job.”

  “I didn’t, Branson. She got it all on her own.”

  Tension started to build again. Something was a little off with this Scott guy, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Either he was really nosy, or he genuinely cared for Brenna.

  “Honestly,” I said to Scott, “forgive me for saying this, but this is all so strange. You guys haven’t seen each other in a long time, yet here we are at your house without an invitation, chatting and sharing food with no end in sight.”

  All of that just spewed out of me without my thinking it through first. My mom would have scolded me for being so blunt.

  “It’s just the way here. We’re a tight community,” Scott said to me. “You must be from New York City, not the Finger Lakes.”

  This made me giggle. “How did you guess?”

  “Just a hunch,” Scott said with a grin, and Ben put his hand on my knee.

  I lifted a palm in surrender. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I swear. I’m getting used to all of this Vermont niceness.”

  Scott pulled out his phone and swiped at his screen. “Something else for you to get used to, the water is going to keep rising. We’ve been so dry, and radar shows it’s supposed to rain straight through the night. Looks like you’re either going to spend the night here, or turn around and go back to where you came from.”

  “We can’t do that,” Branson said sheepishly.

  “Speaking of which,” Ben said to his nephew, "you have to call your mom and explain what happened. And now you’ll have to explain why you won’t be home on top of it all.” He stood up and headed for the hallway, motioning for Branson to come with him. “Let me tell my answering service what’s going on. I’m not on call. I’d have to call the fire chief if I were, so I guess that’s a silver lining. I’m sure he’d rather not have to rescue me. I should let them know, though, just in case any of my patients call. Then it’s all you, buddy.”

  Ben stepped into the hallway with his phone, and poor Branson followed with his head lowered like he was walking the plank.

  “What about you?” Scott asked me. “Do you have to call Hunnie? Or you don’t work on Friday?”

  “I only work for Hunnie part-time. Actually, I often work Fridays. I’m a barista at the Bean. Luckily, I’m off tomorrow but I’m back on Sunday, opening shift.”


  “Over in Colebury? Zara and Audrey’s place?”

  I nodded.

  “I know the Shipleys. Griffin’s a good friend of mine,” Scott said with a smirk. “Oh, I don’t think you would know about that. He and Zara had a thing, but that’s long over.”

  Defending my bosses, I said, “I don’t even think I want to know.”

  “Ha.” Scott was teasing me again, and I found myself missing the warmth of Ben’s palm on my knee. Scott was obviously nice and successful, but way too much of a flirt for me. I wondered if he carried a torch for Brenna, since he kept asking about her. “Griff makes the best cider. We serve it sometimes with our platters if he has a new one he wants to share.”

  I leaned forward and plucked what felt like my hundredth piece of salami from the board. “I’m sorry, but I’m so hungry.”

  “That’s what it’s there for. Do you want something to drink? Water? Wine? Coffee? Cider? You’ve got me thinking about it now.”

  A blush crept up my cheeks. “I’ve never had cider.”

  “Well then, it’s decided. We’ll have a drink when they get back in here, since you have to spend the night.”

  Ben came back into the room, leaving Branson out in the hall on the phone.

  “You trust him to tell the truth?” I blurted to Ben. “Oh my God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. It’s just if it were me at his age, I’d lie through my teeth to my parents.”

  Ben shook his head. “I trust him. He’s not going to lie. Branson wasn’t raised that way. He wants to be cool for the girls,” he said to me, then focused on Scott. “But he’s also protective of Brenna.”

  “Hey, it wasn’t me who knocked her up,” Scott said quietly.

  “I know that you weren’t, but you were the one who dumped her as a friend when he went off to agriculture school.”

  “Man, I was eighteen. I didn’t know my ass from my elbow.”

  “I get it,” Ben said. “Never mind. What’s done is done. Listen, thanks for doing this. I don’t know why I didn’t pay more attention to the weather and the road.”

  “No worries. Like I said, your sister meant a lot to me back in the day, and we’re all neighbors here.”

  “I was distracted by this beauty,” Ben said out of nowhere, taking my hand in his. “And Branson’s behavior,” he added, squeezing my hand. “I can’t fail him. Or you. That’s why this was a major error.”

  He’d taken his seat on the couch next to me as soon as he came back into the room, which was possessive enough, but now he was pulling out the big guns. Based on my racing heart, it was working.

  “Well, you’re here now,” Scott said, “and your lady here said she’s never had hard cider, so we were thinking of having a glass before dinner.”

  Ben shrugged. “Why not? If we’re stuck here.”

  “Come on, let’s go into the kitchen and I’ll see what I have. Tell Branson to meet us there. I have some root beer too.”

  The rest of the evening passed easily with cider flowing, along with tales of Brenna over grilled steaks. Before I knew it, Scott was showing Ben and me to a guest room and setting Branson up in the basement with a movie.

  25

  Ben

  “What should I sleep in?” Murphy slipped out from the bathroom, her cheeks ruddy from the cider.

  “Nothing?” I raised an eyebrow, hoping for the best, and she frowned.

  “I can’t do that. I barely know Scott.”

  Her voice soft, Murphy walked toward me and rested her head on my shoulder. My lips grazed the top of her head. We slow-danced in place, moving to a silent song.

  “Sorry about all this,” I told her, lifting her chin and kissing her softly. “Getting stuck here, and not being prepared to take care of us.”

  I kissed her again and our lips moved in an easy rhythm, in sync like our bodies that still swayed to music only we could hear. “I wish we were at my place. We’d curl up under the covers, and I’d rock your world a few times. Your moans would be louder than the rain pounding on the roof.”

  Murphy leaned back and let out a tiny giggle. “You’re pretty confident.”

  Our light banter and flirting was heavenly, fueled by traces of alcohol and a heavy dose of desire.

  “Oh, I am,” I murmured. “Maybe I’d even press you up against the door again and slip down to my knees and do that thing you like so much? Or maybe I’d pour maple syrup all over you, and lick it off slowly.”

  “Oh my God. You’re too much, but that does sound kind of fun if I can return the favor,” she said before pressing her lips to mine again.

  On a quiet moan, I slid my tongue into her mouth while backing her into the dresser, finally lifting her onto it and spreading her legs. As I stood between her thighs, we devoured each other hungrily, our fused mouths only breaking apart when Murphy yanked my shirt over my head.

  Her lips grazed my stubble, traveled down my neck over my clavicle, and kissed all of my chest. My head lolled back, and goose bumps covered my skin. I’d never felt so turned inside out with pleasure, and stifled the moan that begged to be freed. There was no need to clue Scott into what was happening under his roof.

  Running my hand under Murphy’s shirt, I lifted it off, then unclipped her bra before I held her tight. We were skin to skin, our mouths fused, pressed so closely together that her heart beat against mine.

  “I want you so badly,” Murphy whispered, grinding herself into me.

  “Even in the heat of passion, you still use your adverbs,” I mumbled while unbuckling my belt, then shoved off my shoes and dropped my pants in one quick move.

  Murphy called me out as I dropped to my knees, yanking off her pants and socks and shoes and tossing them into a big heap. “I see you don’t mind.”

  Sliding back up her legs, I tasted every inch of her skin. I wanted to inhale all of Murphy, unable to get enough of her scent, her taste, her moans or sighs—all of it. Before I combusted, I gently moved her panties to the side and made good on my promise to rock her world.

  “Shhh,” I mumbled against her core, and the vibration of my lips set her off. With tiny quakes, she came quietly, and I swallowed all of it.

  Lifting her into my arms, I took her over to the bed and laid her down, then grabbed a condom from my pocket. As quickly as I could, I stepped out of my boxers, then rolled it on and entered her slowly. Sliding all the way in and pulling out even more slowly, I took my time with Murphy at the edge of the bed as she spread wide open for me, her luscious skin on display before me.

  I wanted to hold on forever to the moment until she whispered, “Faster.”

  Picking up speed, we both started to reach a crescendo pretty quickly, and I leaned over her, sealing my mouth on hers to catch her screams and absorb every tiny bit of her pleasure.

  Later, once we’d cleaned up and crawled back in bed, Murphy snagged my shirt from the floor and slid it over her head before she snuggled against me.

  “Well, that’s a good solution for what you’re going to sleep in.”

  “I hope Branson doesn’t come looking for us,” she whispered into my chest.

  “Look up, and let me see if you’re blushing,” I teased.

  I couldn’t believe that this amazing woman hadn’t captured the heart of a man yet. Despite having a hard-shell exterior, groomed for a life she wasn’t meant to live, she was golden on the inside.

  Rather than show me her cheeks, Murphy pretended to shove me further into the mattress, and I fell easily for the woman. Literally and figuratively.

  “I doubt he’s looking to hang with me,” I told her. “Even though he knows I don’t judge and will always give him an objective opinion, he knows I worry about him. Constantly.”

  Shadows deepened as rain continued to pelt the window. I imagined us in my bed rather than in Scott’s guest room, curled up on a stormy night. It felt as if that might be all I needed in this world.

  Murphy. In my bed. Forever.

  But as quickly as the idea flashed thro
ugh my mind, Murphy brought me back to reality.

  “Still, I’m not so sure Branson was so happy to know you had a girlfriend . . . or you were dating at all,” she said, stopping herself from labeling us.

  “He’ll have to get used to it, especially in the new place.” The words slipped from my mouth before I could stop them. Lying there with Murphy, our legs entwined and our hearts beating in unison, I felt too good and my guard fell down.

  “What new place?” she asked.

  I wasn’t surprised to hear it. This was Murphy, and she didn’t miss much.

  “I bought a piece of land with a ski house on it over in Mad River. I thought it would be nice for Branson and me to get some guy time there. Now, of course, I can’t wait for you to see it.”

  “Wow, you never said anything about it, which is okay, but that’s amazing. Look at you, Mr. Successful with two houses, and me struggling to figure out what I want to do.” A note of melancholy tinged her voice.

  I didn’t know why, but I felt as if what she described were what she should have had, rather than me. But I couldn’t apologize or say a thing before she went on.

  “Honestly, you should be proud. The guys from Pressman, none of them are doing the big-time doctor thing and killing it like you obviously are.”

  “That’s the thing,” I said, turning to face her now glistening green eyes and smoothing her out-of-control red hair behind her ear. “When I got hurt playing football and had to figure out a new position, I had a lot of time on my hands. I wasn’t social to begin with.”

  My voice got raspier with every word. I knew this wasn’t going to sit well, but I had to get it out—eventually.

  “I started playing around with apps, and I was pretty good at it. I developed an app that helped run medical records a little easier, and instead of growing it—or the company—by myself, I licensed it. Medical school was still my priority, and I didn’t want to get stuck with a failed venture.”

  “You what, licensed it? So, you got rich in college or what?”

  Murphy looked like she wanted to run away. Her gaze was pinging all over the place, and her heart felt skittish. Then a tear formed in the corner of one eye.

 

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