Stripping the Billionaire Page 4

  Ben knew that was true, which was why he wasn’t planning to tell her. Ever. “Why would she find out?”

  “No matter how much we try to run from it, the truth catches up to us eventually.”

  Ben felt strangely rattled, and he didn’t like feeling that way. “Yeah, well, if you’ll just not mention it, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Of course, dear. You can tell her when you’re ready.”

  Ben released a sigh that was almost a groan.

  His mother didn’t understand his situation at all.

  ***

  Mandy was excited about the huge project of working on the historic row house. She’d never worked on anything so big before, and she wanted to get started immediately.

  Ben, the wet blanket, said they couldn’t get started at pulling things down until they’d gone over the whole house and figured out what needed doing. Then they’d have to arrange the outside workers they’d need to complete it. They could do a lot of it themselves, but there were a few electrical and construction projects that would have to be done by experts.

  So that was why she and Ben were outside in the front of the house later that afternoon, and she was busily writing notes on a pad as he muttered out things he saw that needed doing.

  Ben had been acting strange all day, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it.

  He’d always been grumpy but also laidback at the same time—as if nothing went too deep with him. But today he’d been uptight. He’d actually hurt her feelings, which he almost never did. And even now, he seemed to be tense in a way he usually wasn’t.

  She had no idea what was going on with him.

  “The siding needs to be replaced,” she said, eyeing the house. “You could repaint it, but look, it’s already breaking down there.”

  “Yeah. Damn, what a mess.” He was glowering up at the house and looking adorably stressed at the extent of the project.

  She wasn’t used to seeing him look stressed, and she kind of liked that he cared enough about his mother and this house to get uptight about it.

  “Are you finally going to work on this old eyesore?” a voice came from behind them.

  Both of them turned around to see a teenaged girl in two braids and glasses.

  “It’s not that bad,” Mandy said, feeling an odd defensiveness, as if she was attached to the house herself. “But we’re going to be working on it, yeah.”

  “Make sure you check the left side. Two of the windows need to be replaced.” The girl looked matter-of-fact rather than friendly or annoyed.

  “Who are you?” Ben demanded.

  “I know who you are, even with the caveman beard. You’re Benjam—”

  “Yes, I’m Ben. But I asked who you are.”

  Mandy was surprised that Ben cut the girl off so abruptly, but the girl didn’t seem offended.

  “I’m Kelly. Kelly Beaufort. I live down the block. You used to date my sister.”

  His expression changed. “You’re kidding. You’re Deanna’s little sister?”

  “Yes. I know I’m not nearly as pretty as her, so you don’t have to say it.”

  “I wasn’t going to say anything of the kind,” Ben muttered, as if he’d been insulted.

  Mandy was oddly touched by his reaction, but she was also very curious about this pretty sister he used to date.

  “Are you his girlfriend?” Kelly asked, turning to Mandy. “Wait ‘til I tell Deanna.”

  “I’m not his girlfriend,” Mandy said, “so there’s nothing to tell Deanna.”

  “Okay.” Kelly still looked like she couldn’t wait to share a juicy secret. “I’ll see you around.”

  The girl walked off, and Mandy stood in front of Ben, checking out his face. He looked more uptight than ever.

  She wondered if he’d really liked this Deanna.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked at last. “Was Deanna the one who got away?”

  “No.” He frowned down on her, looking grumpy in the way she was used to.

  She felt better at the expression, like he was the Ben she knew again. “Kelly seemed to think she’d want to know you were around.”

  “We dated ages ago. It was nothing.”

  “Okay.”

  She felt strangely conscious of his presence again—like she’d been feeling more and more, like she’d felt when she woke up on the plane and realized she was snuggled against him.

  It was so strange, inexplicable. He was hardly attractive with the ungroomed beard and sloppy clothes. There was no reason to want to touch him like this, to want to see the rest of his face that was covered by the beard, to think his dark eyes were the most beautiful things she’d ever seen.

  “What are you staring at, Cupcake?” he muttered, radiating more tension than ever.

  And she was even drawn to his tension. What the hell was happening to her?

  She wanted a good-looking, well-dressed man who had things together and was ready to be a husband.

  None of that was Ben.

  To hide her response, she gave him a teasing grin. “Nothing. I’m just wondering if you’re hiding some sort of lost love behind all your grumpy muttering.”

  “I’m not hiding any sort of love.” He was frowning, gruff, covered with hair. It was ridiculous that she was attracted to him.

  Before she knew what she was doing, she stretched up to press a kiss just on the side of his mouth. His beard was scratchy under her lips but not unpleasant.

  She wanted to kiss him again.

  She felt his body tighten even more, and his arms jerked strangely.

  She stepped back, flushing and horribly embarrassed.

  God, she was an idiot. She’d made him uncomfortable, since their friendship had never allowed any sort of kissing.

  “What was that for?” he demanded, his eyes searching her face strangely, like he might have suspected she was feeling in ways that were very inappropriate.

  The last thing she wanted to do was get in the way of their friendship—one that meant a lot more to her than she’d realized until recently—with some stray, irrational lusts that could never turn into something serious.

  So she managed a light grin and said, “That was because you’re pretty cute for a Neanderthal.”

  He grumbled under his breath as he walked around the side of the house to look at the windows Kelly had mentioned, but his expression had returned to normal.

  He must be satisfied that she was feeling nothing but normal friendliness toward him.

  And that was the way it had to stay.

  Three

  They spent the next day making plans for the work around the house and contacting people to come in and do the work they couldn’t do themselves.

  It was a busy day, and Mandy was tired after dinner when she, Ben, and his mother were sitting in the “second parlor” killing time before bed.

  Mrs. Damon evidently didn’t watch TV, since there wasn’t one in the room. She put on a radio program with church music and worked on embroidery.

  Mandy had gotten a book to read, and Ben was putzing on his tablet.

  It felt like a strange, old-fashioned way to spend a Saturday evening, but Mandy didn’t mind. It was kind of nice—that it was so quiet, with so little distraction.

  At one point, Mrs. Damon looked over at her and said, “My dear, do you think you’d like to come to the cotillion with me and Ben next Saturday night?”

  “Oh,” Mandy said, blinking a few times. “I didn’t think I’d be invited. I mean, I’m sure you’d need a special invitation—”

  “Yes, yes, but I asked and got you an invitation, if you’d like to come.”

  She was about to reply when Ben broke in. “She doesn’t want to go, Mom.”

  Mandy was startled and a little hurt by how clear it was that he didn’t want her to attend. She would have loved to go to an old-fashioned Southern ball—not to mention the chance to see Ben dressed up and trying to act polite—but she wasn’t going to horn in when it was clear he didn’t w
ant her to. “I don’t have anything to wear anyway. You and Ben should go and have a good time.”

  There was a strange, silent conversation going on between Ben and his mother. She couldn’t understand the nuances, but it looked like Ben was giving her some sort of stern reminder and that his mother was frustrated by it.

  Ridiculously, Mandy felt left out and a little lonely. She didn’t have any family to have silent conversations with. And even Ben didn’t want her to hang around with him all the time.

  Maybe he was hoping to see Deanna Beaufort at the ball, and he didn’t want Mandy in the way when he made his move.

  All in all, it was a rather depressing thought.

  At eight o’clock, Mrs. Damon looked at the clock and put down her embroidery. “Well, I’m going to get up to bed. Y’all might too, since we have to get up early for church.”

  Mandy blinked in surprise and stared at the other woman. She saw a similar expression of surprise on Ben’s face.

  As if she didn’t noticed their astonishment, Mrs. Damon went on, “We go to the eight-thirty service now, since they’ve turned the eleven o’clock service into a rock concert. I’ve never seen anything like it. Right in church. All these guitars and new songs and, oh Lord, the drums. They shake the whole building. One day, I’m sure those gorgeous old columns are going to come down like with Samson. I’ve been going to that church at eleven for thirty years, but I had to move to eight-thirty.”

  She looked over at Mandy and her son and evidently took their surprise for concern, “Oh, the early service is better. They still have guitars and drums, but they’re not so loud. And they sing the old hymns and sometimes even use that beautiful, old organ.”

  “Mom,” Ben said, when he could get a word in. “Mandy and I weren’t planning to go to ch—”

  “Of course, you’ll go to church with me. You wouldn’t sleep in on a Sunday morning, would you, dear?” She turned to Mandy on the last question.

  Put on the spot, Mandy said, “I can go to church. That would be fine.” Her parents hadn’t been regular church-goers, but they’d gone a few times a year. She hadn’t set foot inside a church since her parents died, though, except for the occasional wedding.

  “See,” Mrs. Damon said with a pleased smile. “Now, don’t put up a fuss, Benjamin. It’s just an hour out of your day.”

  There seemed to be more of that unspoken communication going on between him and his mother. “I’m not sure,” he began, kind of gritting the words out.

  “It will be fine,” his mother interrupted. “We’ll leave right afterwards so you won’t have to talk to anyone who knows you, if you don’t want.”

  He still seemed tense about it, and Mandy didn’t understand why at all. Maybe he was anti-religious. He hadn’t seemed to have strong feelings one way or the other, but maybe he just hadn’t told her.

  “Fine,” he muttered. “I’ll go to church. But I’m not going to stay for any socializing.”

  Mandy laughed and reached over to touch his arm. “I don’t think anyone who knows you would expect you to socialize. Ever.”

  Ben smiled back at her through his beard, almost reluctantly.

  When Mandy glanced over at Mrs. Damon, she noticed that there was an almost sad look on the other woman’s face.

  Mandy had no idea why.

  ***

  Ben was grumpier than usual the following morning.

  He dreaded the idea of going to church. Growing up, he and his brother went all the time because his mother went, but he hadn’t attended in years. That wasn’t the problem, however.

  The problem was that there were people at church who knew who he was, who knew who his family was.

  And it would be very easy for someone to let something slip that would alert Mandy.

  He really shouldn’t have brought her with him on this trip. It was proving itself more and more to be a mistake.

  Nothing to do about it now, though. He was stuck with her.

  And stuck going to church the next morning with his mother.

  He got up early enough to shower and dress. He made more of an effort with his clothes than normal—out of respect for his mother—and pulled on a pair of khakis and a decent shirt. One without holes or a slogan.

  He didn’t have a suit with him, so at least he wouldn’t get pressure to wear something like that. He didn’t even have a shirt with a collar with him.

  He dreaded the thought of rooting through his old clothes and finding something to wear for that dreaded cotillion on Saturday night. Dressing up was foreign to him now. It seemed too much like pleasing other people.

  He was closing his door when he saw that Mandy was stepping out of her room as well, which was right across the hall from his.

  She looked beautiful and polished—as she always did—in a red sleeveless dress and high-heeled sandals.

  She smiled at him. “Morning. Do I look all right? I brought this sweater to put on, since I wasn’t sure I should have bare arms and shoulders in church.”

  Ben was looking at her bare arms and shoulders—the smooth golden-tanned skin and graceful lines, framed by the fall of her champagne-colored hair. He felt a visceral longing that was somehow beyond physical desire.

  “Ben?” she prompted, frowning at him. “Is this not good? I don’t know what people wear for church anymore.” Then she seemed to take in his appearance. “Oh. Am I overdressed? I can change real quick.”

  “You look great,” he managed to say. “My mom will definitely approve.”

  “Good.” She took his arm companionably as they walked toward the stairs. “Try not to be all crabby about going. You’ll hurt your mom’s feelings. It’s not that big a deal, after all. We can do some more work on the house this afternoon.”

  He felt that same visceral longing for Mandy, even after she covered her lovely skin with the little white sweater she carried.

  It wouldn’t go away.

  ***

  The church was a large, well-established one—with roots going back two hundred years. The parking lot was crowded when they arrived, and they had to park far away. So there were only a few minutes to spare when an usher showed them to a pew.

  That was good. That meant no one could come over to chat and reveal something Ben needed to keep hidden.

  Dozens of people waved and called out greetings, but all was fine with his identity when the organ prelude began.

  The service proceeded with a familiar rhythm of song, prayer, reading, song, prayer, sermon. His mother seemed happy that he was sitting beside her, so Ben couldn’t begrudge having to come.

  Mandy didn’t appear uncomfortable. She was closing her eyes with the prayers, and following along with the readings, and singing what she could with the songs—some of which she obviously didn’t know. She turned and smiled at him occasionally, so he decided she was perfectly fine with being pressured to come.

  Ben was making a plan for a quick escape as they stood up for the final hymn. It was “Amazing Grace,” which everyone knew and loved, so the congregational singing was loud and enthusiastic.

  Even the old words and deep simplicity of the meaning tasted bitter in his mouth, so he wasn’t moved—spiritually or otherwise—the way everyone else seemed to be.

  But, by the end of the first verse, he noticed a change in Mandy.

  At first, she tensed up. Then she started to sniff a little. Then on the third verse, she lifted a hand to discreetly wipe a tear away with her fingertips.

  He had no idea what was wrong with her—why some old song would have affected her that way—but his heart started to ache in his chest anyway.

  Finally, he couldn’t stand it, and he reached out to pull her against his side, keeping his arm around her until the hymn concluded.

  She was obviously embarrassed, but still emotional. She gave him a sheepish, grateful look and pressed herself against him.

  And Ben liked it. A lot. Not just the feel of her body against his. But the feeling of being able to comfort he
r, be there for her, take care of her.

  It had been years since he’d felt anything resembling it, and it was as startling as it was terrifying.

  But Mandy was obviously taking comfort in him, so he wasn’t about to pull away.

  He couldn’t help but remember back to the wedding of his cousin Harrison, eight months ago. Sarah, who had been posing as his other cousin’s fiancé, had burst into tears in the middle of it.

  He’d been worried about her, but she’d shrugged off his silent questions. Instead, she’d clung to Jonathan’s hand.

  Ben remembered that grip. Vividly. Sarah’s hand twined with Jonathan’s. It had spoken to a real, deep connection between them—far more clearly than anything either of them could have said.

  He’d thought then he could never have that sort of connection with another person. Then he’d come home from England to find that Mandy had moved in across the hall from him.

  He shouldn’t be feeling this way now, though. It was wrong. Because he could never be with Mandy the way he might want.

  At least, he didn’t think he could.

  It was tempting, though. Very tempting. When she pulled away as the hymn ended and gave him a smile that was like the sun—like she was looking at him and seeing something real, something she thought was worthwhile.

  He wondered how she would look at him when she learned he’d been lying to her.

  As soon as the benediction was given, Ben rushed them out, putting a hand on both Mandy’s back and his mother’s to hurry them along.

  They managed to get ahead of most of the crowd and so were near the front of the line to greet the pastors on the way out of the building.

  “Mrs. Damon,” the pastor on their side said when they passed. Not the main pastor but one of the associates. “Good to see you, ma’am. And I see you have your son visiting.”

  “Benjamin,” his mom said with a proud smile. She didn’t seem remotely embarrassed about his less than respectable appearance. “He’s an architect in California now. He’s come to help me do some work on the house.”

  The pastor shook Benjamin’s hand and then Mandy’s, when she introduced herself.