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Jewell smiled and stepped away from him to retrieve her purse from her desk drawer. He left her to close up his office, and Jewell leaned over to shut down her system. Her attention shifted for a moment to the open email, and she wondered if he'd noticed when he walked past. With the computer turned off, she moved through her usual routine of shutting the door between their offices, smiling at him before shutting the door, and exiting her office into the space behind April's desk.
"Any plans for the weekend?" she asked as she shut and locked her office door. Only then did she send up a silent thank you that Benjamin had thought to shut it when he came in.
"I have a date tonight," April said with a wide grin, spinning around in her chair.
"Oooh." Jewell set her purse down on April's desk, leaning against the edge. She glanced up as Benjamin came out of his office and likewise locked his door. "Tell me about him."
Benjamin set his hand on the high wall of April's desk, looking at them both. "Good night, ladies," he said simply and stepped away, raising the same hand in a short wave.
April waved back but turned her attention immediately back to Jewell. "His name is William Morgan, and I met him in my night course over at BC. We're going to dinner tonight."
"Is he cute?"
Benjamin reached the elevator and pushed the call button, never looking back. This was the game they played. It wasn't against corporate policy for Bulwark employees to date as long as they kept things professional in the workplace, but they agreed there was no need to add grist to the rumor mill, and besides that, it was no one's business but their own. No need to advertise it to the likes of Kevin Burke, who loved to stir the pot.
"He's gorgeous," April went on, fanning herself with her flat hand. "Dark hair, dark eyes, arms the size of torpedoes…"
Jewell laughed, and in the distance, the elevator dinged as it descended.
She spent another five minutes listening to April describe her new man as April shut down her own equipment for the weekend. They walked together to the elevator and rode it to the street. April drove since she lived in Chelsea and said the train was too much hassle for such a short distance, so she headed across the street to a parking garage used widely by Bulwark employees. With a wave, Jewell started down Friend Street, rounded the corner, and climbed into Benjamin's waiting car.
* * *
"She gave you no hint she was planning to leave?" Jewell asked from her perch at his counter bar. She had to wait for an opportune moment to sign her question as he bustled around his kitchen.
"She wanted to be with Dillon, so I can't understand why she'd choose to go back to Connecticut. It makes no sense," he answered over his shoulder as he sautéed asparagus in a hot skillet.
The aromas of garlic, baking rolls, and broiling steak mingled in the air making her mouth water. He'd driven her to the townhouse without asking what she'd like to do for dinner and had wasted no time in cooking their meal. He was a great cook. Just one more thing in a long list of accomplishments Benjamin Roth could claim.
She hadn't failed to notice that four steaks had been set out to thaw, so he had planned—or perhaps hoped was a better word—that Victoria and Dillon would be with them for dinner. He'd put the steaks away without a word and ordered her to sit at the counter bar while he prepared the meal.
She couldn't ask him anything else for the next several minutes as he made the final preparations for the meal. By then, all they had to do was wait a few minutes until everything was done. He wiped his fingers off with a small towel and turned to her. "Wine?"
Jewell nodded, and he grabbed two goblets from his hanging rack and took a bottle of merlot from his wine cabinet. When he motioned with his head toward the adjoining dining room she patted the counter. "Why don't we eat right here?"
He was a bundle of energy, keeping himself moving constantly. She wasn't sure, but she figured it was probably all avoidance. Benjamin set down the glasses, and poured the wine, but before she could say anything more, he tried to take off again. Jewell hopped down from her high stool and gripped the fabric of his sleeve, stopping him short. He pointed toward the oven to offer an argument, but she took his face in her hands and pulled him to her for a kiss. It took all of two seconds before he turned fully into her and his fingers pressed into her hips, drawing her closer to him. His mouth tasted of the garlic and butter he'd sampled off his fingers while cooking. Jewell opened her mouth and his groan whispered between them.
She kissed him until his hold felt less intense and more impassioned, and then she stepped back, offering a wink. "Check on dinner, Benjamin."
He pulled a face that was somewhere between "Oh, you're evil" and "I'll get you for that later" before opening the oven to take out their filet mignon steaks.
Reminding him that there were other things to focus on seemed to ease a little bit more of the tension that pulled at him. They talked and signed all through dinner to the point that her final bites of steak were cold, if not still delicious.
With a chuckle at her story about Pearl's first attempt at making fudge, Benjamin stood and picked up her plate, taking it to the sink. "How does one get exploding chocolate out of the curtains?"
Jewell laughed, standing with him. "You don't. You buy new curtains."
Benjamin set the dishes in the sink and turned to the refrigerator, taking out a four-layer chocolate torte with raspberries and crystallized sugar decorating the top. It was huge, clearly intended to serve more than two, and packaged inside a clear container bearing the logo of a local bakery. As soon as he removed the lid, the mouthwatering aroma of chocolate and raspberries hit Jewell. She laid her hand against her stomach.
"Goodness, Benjamin. You keep feeding me like this, nothing is going to fit me anymore."
His gaze shifted from her hands, down her body, and back to her face as a lecherous grin curled his lips. "Is that a bad thing?"
She wasn't sure who moved first, or who reached first, but she was in his arms. His kiss poured molten honey through her, pooling in her limbs and her stomach, and in an instant she wanted 'more'. More of his touch. More of his kiss. More of his taste. More of his skin.
Just more.
Benjamin turned them, edging her toward the hallway…and the possibilities beyond sitting rooms with comfortable couches, plush carpeted floors in front of fireplaces, and stairs that led to…his bedroom.
