Ignoring her wink, I said, “It’s not anything yet, Mom. Please don’t run with this.”
“Oh, Ben, I can’t help it. You were crazy for the girl back then. I’m sure she’s an even more fabulous woman.”
“Let’s hear about the house and land,” my dad said, changing the subject.
And thank fuck for that.
Later that evening, I showered and slipped into bed. Inhaling, I was pleased that Murphy’s scent still lingered on my sheets. I’d wanted her to stay the other night, but I could tell some sort of anxiety took hold of her and I didn’t want to push.
As I laid my head back into the pillow, I couldn’t help but compare this newer version of Murphy to the older one.
She was still skittish, but in a different way. She used to obsess over pleasing her parents, but now she seemed to be overly concerned with doing what she thought was the best or smartest move. She still seemed to need reassurances from some outside source and hadn’t learned to just be happy with herself.
I didn’t have a chance to think about it any further because my phone chimed. I wasn’t on call, so I wasn’t obligated to check it, but I did.
You up? the text read. Two words from the woman of my thoughts.
I am, was all I sent back, and then my phone rang.
I tried to hide the want and huskiness in my voice when I answered. “Hello, Murph. This is a nice surprise.”
“I didn’t want to bug you, but had to call and thank you.”
“For what?” A smile took over my face as I swept my hair out of my eyes.
“You pushed me to tell Zara about my idea, and she loved it. We didn’t even discuss the new kid. She was worried about me—me—afraid that I didn’t want to work at the Bean anymore. Anyway, she loved my book club idea, and I’m going full steam ahead, no pun intended. Get it? The Bean? Full steam?”
Turning on my side, I liked this a little bit too much. Lying in bed, chatting with a woman. Only thing better would be if she were here.
“I get it. This is awesome,” I told her. “You have great ideas. By the way, I ran into Hunnie earlier when I was on my way to have dinner with my parents.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, no big deal.” Secretly, I liked the hint of jealousy that sneaked past her confident exterior. “We drove past each other on the road and rolled down the windows. She’s dying for you to get those straw samples.”
“They’re on their way. I was going to tell her tomorrow, as well as that Gigi came and found me and roped me into helping her too.”
“Really? I pick up cupcakes there for my staff sometimes. And I know Brenna loves her cupcakes for a special occasion.”
“Well, she found me at the Bean and accosted me. Ha.” Murphy let out a little chuckle over the line, and I could feel her lightness in my chest. “Wants me to relieve her of some of the social media stuff. Of course, Hunnie put her up to it.”
“Hunnie is Hunnie. She seems to get her way, no matter what. Just ask my dad.”
“Oh yeah, how was your dinner?”
“My mom is like a dog with a bone after speaking with Marley.”
“Uh-oh. I’m shaking in my boots.”
“Like Nancy . . . Sinatra?”
“No, really. By the way,” she asked, “what do I hear in the background?”
“‘A Little Less Conversation’ by the king himself.”
“You didn’t put music on the other night when I was there.”
“I regret that,” I said. “It was unlike me, but I was in a hurry. You sat on the bed, and I was done for.”
Her voice lowered, probably out of embarrassment. “I feel cheated out of the whole Ben Rooney experience.”
Deciding to tease her, I said, “You really have perfected this flirting thing, haven’t you?”
She cleared her throat, I assumed trying to collect her composure. “Not exactly. Honestly, there’s something about chatting with you. It comes easily, naturally. It feels fun, and I feel more free. Freer than I ever have.”
Her transparency hit me in the gut. I wasn’t sure why, because I’d never been the guy who women opened up to. In high school, I didn’t have the right pedigree. In college, I was too distracted, busy, or self-centered. And since being back home, I’d been flat-out disinterested in making the effort until Murphy showed up in my life.
“I’m glad,” I finally said. “We always had a good way between us.”
“We did,” she said softly.
A long silence stretched out between us, full of undeclared feelings and unanswered questions.
“I believe the experts call that a pregnant pause,” I said, my brain getting in the way of my emotions.
“Apparently, they’re very good when making a point. At least, my dad always said.”
“We don’t need to make a point. That’s just how we are. We flow. Let’s not allow all this underlying stuff to get in the way this time.”
Before I could ask her to agree, she said, “Okay.”
“See? No pregnant pause required. Maybe I know something your dad doesn’t.” Closing my eyes, I couldn’t believe I said that. “I just meant we probably have different perspectives. I wasn’t putting anyone down. I’m sure your dad is a very smart man.”
“It’s okay. I think you may be on to something. It’s like the social media stuff I work on. Honesty and transparency are the hallmarks of a good post. Maybe it’s the same for relationships . . . I mean, friendships.”
“Relationships,” I said, correcting her indecisiveness.
“Anyway, I don’t know how we got on this topic, but I just wanted to tell you about the book club. We’re going
