Home Sweet Home

by Melanie Shawn

  He uncomfortably shifted in his jeans, which were becoming tighter by the second.

  He just couldn't get over how much softer and more approachable Lauren looked. He reached his hand up unconsciously to wipe his chin, afraid he was drooling.

  After what seemed like an eternity to Ben, Lauren finally turned to him, an apologetic expression on her face.

  “Ben, I'm so sorry for holding us up. I fell asleep unintentionally last night. I can promise you this is NOT how I normally operate, and it won't happen again.”

  Ben smiled, liking this new, down-to-earth, real version of Lauren.

  “Hey, one thing you will learn in this business is that you've got to roll with things. No harm done!”

  Lauren laughed ruefully, “Roll with things? I doubt that's a lesson I'll ever be able to learn!”

  Ben could tell she was serious, but truthfully, all he could really think about was how adorable she was.

  --- ~ ---

  Lauren was relieved that, despite her uncharacteristic tardiness in meeting the town car this morning, she and Ben were still delivered to the Reno-Tahoe airport in plenty of time to make their flight.

  As they disembarked from the car, Ben said, "Do you have any luggage to check?"

  Lauren looked at him disbelievingly, as if he had just grown two heads. "What am I, an amateur?" she smirked.

  He smiled at her sassy retort, which had been her intent, and Lauren was more gratified at this success than she wanted to let herself believe.

  When the two of them were seated at the gate, Lauren decided to see if continuing in that sassy vein could tease an additional smile from him, so she turned to look at him and said, in a light tone, "The thing that I was really surprised about by this flight was that we're seated in coach. I thought that big stars always flew first class, if not in a private jet."

  However, rather than just inspiring a simple smile from Ben, it actually spurred him on to action.

  "Well," he said, turning on his charming smile full strength, "Let's just see what we can do about that, shall we?"

  Before she could even respond, he was up and headed over to talk to the gate attendant, a fresh and bright looking young woman in her mid-twenties.

  Before too long, he had her laughing and even blushing, and Lauren was hardly even surprised when he walked back over about five minutes later, holding two new boarding passes.

  "She upgraded us," he announced proudly.

  "Um, I think she was mainly interested in upgrading YOU," Lauren said with a sly smile, "If we're using 'upgrade' as a naughty euphemism, that is."

  Ben shrugged, but did not deny it.

  "Be that as it may," he said, unphased, "Mission accomplished."

  He handed her the upgraded boarding pass with a flourish, much the way she imagined a teenager might hand over a hard-fought-for stuffed animal that he had won for his lady love at the county fair.

  As it turned out, they had the first class compartment almost entirely to themselves. The only other passenger was seated in the row ahead of them and across the aisle, so that once they were all settled into their plush leather seats, all trace of the man was actually obscured from view.

  It felt to Lauren as if they had their own private little compartment within the airplane, as if it was a flight made just for two. She squirmed uncomfortably at the intimacy of that notion, but in a far corner of her brain, she recognized that it felt right to her, as well.

  After their flight had been underway for about ten minutes, Ben turned to Lauren with a sly, conspiratorial glint in his eye. He leaned in close to her and said, in a low, seductive tone, "You know what I really like to do when I'm on long flights like this, and I have first class almost all to myself?"

  Lauren felt her throat catch, but resisted the urge to clear it. She didn't want him to know how much the nearness of him, the sexy rasp in his voice, and feeling his hot breath on her ear affected her. She willed her tone to be even as she said, "What might that be?"

  He leaned back smiling, and in a brisk, teasing tone said, "Look over the script and the specs of the house I'm about to shoot."

  Lauren's brain was so scrambled by the rush of heat that had just thundered through it that it took her a moment to process what he had said, and the implications. When she did, her cheeks burned with embarrassment, having fallen for his little gag. But instead of showing him that he had gotten to her, she made herself laugh it off, and about ten seconds into the chuckle, she realized that she really did find it funny.

  Still, though. That didn't mean she was going to let him get away with it. She needed to turn the tables.

  "Too bad," she said lightly as she pulled out her laptop, "I usually like to give blow jobs."

  Although she kept her eyes determinedly straight in front of her as she said this, she surreptitiously checked in her peripheral vision to see what his reaction to this bold statement would be. She saw a definite spark of surprise in his eyes, which quickly darkened to what she thought (hoped?) was lust.

  He smiled, although a bit uncertainly, perhaps wondering how much of the comment was a joke and how much was a serious proposition. Hedging his bets, he matched her light tone as he said, "Never too busy for that, though."

  She smiled serenely. "Lost your chance," she teased.

  Ben was silent then, not answering, and Lauren was quickly distracted from their charged exchange as she became absorbed in reading and answering her email correspondence on her laptop. A few moments later, she noticed that Ben had pulled his own laptop out of his briefcase and pulled up the electronic info packet they had been given on the house that they were heading out to host.

  The flight proceeded smoothly and uneventfully for the next few hours until, without warning, the plane began to shake and roil. Lauren looked up at the first bump, eyes wide. At the next, her hand involuntarily clutched Ben's arm. She looked at him, desperation written on her face.

  "I don’t do well with turbulence." she said, a little tremulously.

  She realized that he could have taken the opportunity to continue to tease her, or even to directly mock her for this weakness, but he did neither of those things. Rather, he spoke in a low, comforting tone.

  "Don't worry," he said, "In this job, I have to make flights in these smaller planes all the time. It gets a little rough every once in a while, but we're always OK."

  He smiled at her reassuringly. "I promise, we'll be fine," he soothed.

  Even though there was usually nothing that could make Lauren feel better when a flight wasn't going smoothly, she found that something about Ben's manner and tone actually did make her believe him, deep down inside. When he said that everything was going to be alright, something at the very core of Lauren's soul recognized it as something that was safe to believe, and so she did.

  However, as the plane continued to dip and shake, she found that, although she did have faith in Ben's comforting words, they did not in fact have the power to take away her fear entirely. So, when the captain's voice came over the loudspeaker and announced that, due to the bad weather patch, they weren't going to make it all the way to Aspen but instead were going to have to make an unscheduled landing in Grand Junction, Lauren was the only passenger on the plane that didn't groan. On the contrary, she could not have been more relieved.

  When the wheels touched down, she felt the tension inside her unwind, and she whispered, "Oh, thank God." The breath that she had not even realized that she had been holding escaped from her in a powerful sigh of relief.

  Her fists also involuntarily loosened as relief flooded through her, and it was only then that she realized that, during the entire storm, she had never let go of Ben's arm.

  Chapter Seven

  Lauren paced around the small hotel room, obviously nervous and fidgety, and her gaze kept falling onto the bed. Several times she had mentioned to Ben that she absolutely couldn't believe that the hotel had no sleeping accommodations available whatsoever with double beds. She said it, again
and again - it just didn't seem possible.

  Ben said, “Lauren, honestly, if it makes you nervous to sleep in the bed together, I don't mind taking the floor. Or even a chair.”

  Lauren looked at him, saw his face, which was telegraphing sincerity, and felt her fear drop away like an ill-fitting cape.

  “You know what? I'm just being silly,” Lauren said, “we are both adults. We both deserve to sleep in the bed. I mean, we're both professionals, even. We both have a job to do tomorrow, one for which we both need to be fresh and rested. It's the height of silliness to make you sleep on the floor while I get this huge bed to myself, particularly when I'm the one that's being an idiot. We can survive sleeping in a bed together for one night...right?”

  Ben smiled. “I tell you what? Why don't we order up some room service?”

  Lauren hadn't realized how hungry she was. Fear of plummeting to the ground in a flying tin can really work up an appetite, she thought.

  “That sounds awesome!” she said enthusiastically, “While we wait for it, I'm going to hop in the shower. I didn't have time to take one in my unplanned rush to get out the door today, so this will be nice. Also, I think the hot water will do wonders for my nerves!”

  Lauren grabbed her toiletry case and walked into the bathroom. She was appalled at what she saw in the mirror.

  She turned on the shower, letting the water run. As she did this, she called Karina. She was freaked out about the ONE BED predicament and knew that if anyone could be blasé about the situation, it would be Karina.

  She held the phone to her ear, listening to it ring, and whispered desperately to herself, “Pick up, pick up, pick up...”

  Which, luckily, Karina did.

  “Hey, TV star, how's Aspen?” Karina greeted her cheerfully.

  “Grand Junction,” Lauren whispered into the phone.

  “Is that some kooky British-ism that I don't get because I haven't watched Downton Abbey yet? Like you would say, 'How is the new summer estate working out for you, my Lord' and he would reply, 'Grand Junction, Jeeves, simply Grand Junction!' or something?”

  “No, that would be Grand Junction, Colorado. Where we have been waylaid due to weather. As have many other people, which is why the only hotel room we were able to get has one bed. And we're sharing it. Together.”

  “Awesome!” Karina replied.

  “No it's not awesome!” Lauren retorted in a harsh whisper.

  “Is this conversation taking place in the Twilight Zone or something? You've only said two things so far, and the actual meaning of both is apparently different than what the words themselves might imply.”

  “What?”

  “I'm trying to say...what's the problem here? This seems like an excellent opportunity.”

  “The problem is that, with my newly discovered knowledge that I want to have sex with Ben Stevens, I don't trust myself sleeping in a bed with him!”

  “Honestly, Lauren, I feel like you're over-thinking this. Take this as a sign from the universe. It's perfect. In fact, if 'Grand Junction' was a phrase that meant 'Simply Amazing' I feel like this would be the exact sort of situation that it would describe.”

  “I'm trying to be serious here, Karina.”

  “So am I! Just because I have a jocular tone and try to sprinkle my wisdom with witticisms people think I'm not being serious!”

  “You just used two words in that sentence, describing both tone and content, that actually mean you're not being serious.”

  “Ah, but – just like in your little sleeping arrangement situation with Mr. Hottie Host Man – you're missing the larger point. The main thing I was trying to emphasize in that description was classifying my advice as wisdom.”

  “So, what are you saying then? I should sleep with Ben?”

  “Do you want to sleep with Ben?”

  “You already know I want to sleep with Ben!”

  “Well, therein lies your answer. Can you believe me? I'm like frickin' Confucius up in here! I should start an advice column.”

  Lauren sighed, “OK, Confucius, I got to go. He thinks I'm in the shower.”

  Karina began, “Ask him to join...”

  But Lauren had already disconnected the call.

  --- ~ ---

  Ben looked over the place settings he had laid out for himself and Lauren while she had been in the shower. Not bad. Pretty basic, true – just the covered plates surrounded by napkins, drinking glasses, and silverware – but at least it showed that he was making an effort.

  He was just finishing, smoothing out the last napkin, when Lauren emerged from the bathroom, looking fresh and revived.

  The force of her appearance nearly knocked him right on his ass.

  She was wearing loose and flowy charcoal grey silk boxers, the deep color of which set off the creamy complexion of her legs to perfect advantage. On top, she had on a tighter, stretchy, coral-colored tank top with a bit of lace around the low-cut neckline.

  Her hair was wet and freshly combed, he could smell her shampoo from across the room. Or maybe, he thought, you start to smell flowers when you're having a stroke? Because that's what this feels like.

  This didn't feel like the sort of thing he thought of as 'attraction' – when you see a sexy woman, take note of her assets, and feel a visceral pull in your groin that tells you that you'd like to sleep with her. No. This felt like getting hit with a nuclear bomb.

  He hadn't thought anything could be sexier than what Lauren was wearing to travel today – a simple v-neck shirt and jeans – but that was because he had not seen her in her current night time attire.

  He ran his hands over his face, rubbing them up and down as if he were scrubbing, trying to bring himself back to earth. Shit. He was never going to make it through dinner, much less the entire night with her.

  Lauren padded over and sat in the chair opposite him, carefully unfolding her napkin and placing it properly in her lap.

  She began cutting up her steak enthusiastically and smiled at him. “I'm starving, Ben. This looks amazing. Thanks for taking care of all of this.”

  Hearing her speak somewhat snapped him out of his lust-induced fog. Well, enough that he was able to carry on somewhat coherent small talk during dinner. At least he thought he was being coherent. Good Grief, he thought to himself, maybe I’m not the best judge of that. What if I'm rambling like a loon?

  But Lauren didn't seem to be giving him any concerned or disconcerted looks, so he thought he must be doing at least a passable job of pretending to be in his right mind.

  By the time they finished dinner, he was almost completely back to normal, and by the time they finished running their lines for a half an hour, he was one hundred percent back to himself.

  Damn, he thought, I need to figure out a way to deal with seeing her that's not going to take me out of commission every time she happens to walk in looking beautiful. Because, let’s face it, that's bound to happen a hell of a lot. I need to get on even footing, here.

  They settled into bed, lying on their sides with their backs to each other, each as close to their own edge as possible, putting the maximum distance between them that they could.

  Ben smiled in the dark. He had one more thing to say to her, and it felt easier when her face was obscured by the gloom that surrounded them.

  “Lauren?” he said softly.

  “Hmmm...” she answered sleepily.

  “Are you still awake?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I wanted to tell you something.”

  “OK.”

  “Just for future reference? When you have a whispered private conversation and you turn on the shower to obscure it, that just makes you whisper louder. So tell Karina I said Hi the next time you talk to her.”

  “Goodnight, Ben,” Lauren said tersely.

  “Goodnight, Lauren.”

  Chapter Eight

  Lauren opened her eyes, feeling like she was still in a dream. Was she still in a dream? No, she didn't think she was. This felt more
like the sensation you get when you're almost asleep, like you're floating, like you're falling. It was a delicious sensation, but she didn't think it was a dream.

  So why, then, did she feel so lovely, so light and airy, like she was asleep in a bed of clouds rather than an earthly mattress?

  She moved slightly and lifted her head, not quite sure where she was at first, trying to get her bearings. The cobwebs of sleepiness still clung to her mind, making thought difficult. She had the definite sense that she was not in her own room, not in her own bed, but she couldn't quite remember where she was. Generally, when she had the disconcerting sensation of waking up in a new place and not, for a moment, being able to remember where she was, she hated that. It was upsetting. It made her feel the thing that she tried to avoid most in the world: out of control.

  There was a stark difference between this instance of waking up in a new place and every single other time it had ever happened to her, in her entire life – she didn't feel out of control, or at least not in a bad way. Right now she had a deep sense of being taken care of, although she wasn't sure from where that came. It was just a sensation.

  As Lauren stirred more and lifted her head further, she saw where she was and what she was doing and felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her – she froze. It all came rushing back.

  She remembered the turbulent flight. She remembered checking into the hotel. She remembered the availability of only one room, which she and Ben had to share. She remembered her desperate and hurried telephone conversation with Karina. She remembered the last thing that Ben had said to her before they fell asleep, which was that he had heard her conversation with Karina, which meant he had overheard her saying that she wanted to sleep with him. And lastly, yes, she remembered the sleeping arrangements. One bed. They were sleeping in one bed.

  More to the point, she was actually currently sleeping on top of him. She saw that, at some point during the night, she had turned over in her sleep and was no longer laying chastely on her side, facing away from him, nor was he laying on his side, facing away from her.