A knock sounded out of nowhere, and Charlotte jolted hard enough to fling the throw pillow to the other send of the sofa. Her palm rested over her heart as she struggled to calm herself. She realized the knock was to her own door and caused a streak of fear to rise within her stronger than anything her suspenseful movie conjured.
The knock came again, and she rose slowly, padding on quiet feet to the door. Her hand gripped the baseball bat she kept propped in the corner. She peered through the peephole. Once her eyes adjusted to the darkness outside, she recognized theimposing figure standing on the landing. Hastily releasing the locks, she pulled open the door and froze under Ben’s intense stare.
“Hi.” He managed to look sheepish as his eyes swept her from head to toe and back.
She was suddenly aware of how she must look. Her hair was pulled back and held in a short ponytail by a black elastic. Her lounge pants were a faded black, and her oversized T-shirt was stained with the spaghetti sauce she had for dinner. She was certain her breath smelled of the garlic that seasoned the bread she’d eaten, and with no makeup on her face, every blemish and freckle was exposed to his scrutiny.
She peered around him, half expecting Ms. Miller to be nearby.
“She saw me from the window when I got out of the Tahoe.”
Feeling a little disconcerted that he read her mind so easily, she fixed her gaze in the middle of his chest. It occurred to her to give him a proper greeting, but she was too surprised to see him to think of one.
“What are you doing here?”
His finger nudged her chin, raising her head until their eyes met. “I wanted to see you.”
Warmth spread through her, and she nervously stepped back. “Come in.”
Once he was inside, she closed the door and realized she still held the bat. Ben raised a brow as she placed it back in its usual spot. She shrugged.
“We don’t get many visitors at this time of night.”
“I’m sorry. I should have called first.”
Charlotte shook her head. “No, it’s fine. It’s, uh…is everything all right? I mean, not that I’m not happy to see you, but you seem…different.”
He ran a hand through his hair, and Charlotte was fascinated with how the waves fell back into place, giving him a roguish appearance.
“It’s been a long day.” His tone sounded sad, tugging at her heart.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Ben shook his head. “Not really.”
Charlotte shook off her surprise and pointed over to the sofa just as a scream pealed from the television. Seeing the heroine fighting the killer drew her focus. She fully faced the screen, her arms wrapped around her middle. A gasp escaped her throat when the assailant’s knife narrowly missed plunging into the heroine’s side. A low chuckle reminded her she wasn’t alone. Charlotte’s cheeks flushed as she glanced at a smiling Ben.
“I’m guessing that’s the reason you answered the door armed with a baseball bat,” he teased.
“I don’t even know why I started watching it. I thought it was a feel-good romantic movie, but then the love interest turned out to be a serial killer. Then he started stalking her, and she was getting closer to figuring out who he was. Anyway, I don’t usually watch thrillers like that, but by the time I realized the kind of movie it was, I was too invested to turn it off.”
“Well, then, don’t let me stop you from seeing it how it ends.”
“No, it’s fine. We can watch something else. A comedy maybe. Something to help you take your mind off your long day.”
Ben stepped closer and took her hand. His palm was deliciously rough against her skin. He led her over to the sofa and lightly pushed her to sit. When he joined her, he left little space between them. His arm draped over her shoulders, pulling her against his side. Then he focused on the screen, leaving her to wonder what just happened.
But then the action of the movie pulled her in once more. She clutched her pillow and burrowed into Ben’s side, feeling protected and less afraid by the suspense of the movie. The heroine escaped the clutches of the serial killer only to receive a blow to her head that scrambled her memory. The action flowed, and Charlotte used the lull in suspense to explain the premise to Ben. She had no idea if he cared what was happening, but he humored her.
The movie reached its climax, and Charlotte stopped pretending she wasn’t invested in the takedown of the bad guy. She coached the heroine on outsmarting the serial killer, and she cheered when the killer was arrested and the heroine shared a steamy kiss with the new love interest.
“That was great,” she said enthusiastically, only to find Ben watching her with a bemused look on his face. “You didn’t like it, did you?”
“Maybe if I’d seen it from the beginning. But I liked watching you enjoy it so much.”
She snorted. “You mean you hope you don’t have to watch another movie with me. I get carried away when I watch movies. I can’t help it. I’ve always been that way.”
“I don’t mind it. We can watch another one if you want. Having someone who gets into them only makes it more fun to watch.”
