The Chatsfield Short Romances 1-5. Marguerite Kaye
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Because they had a very active and exciting sex life and she knew that he absolutely adored her, Joely just wrinkled her nose at him.
‘We’ve been married for six months and you’re cheating on me!’
And there it was, trouble. Big trouble. Joely pulled a face at Ben who, strangely, looked annoyed at the woman’s outburst.
‘I was drunk…’
‘That’s a stupid excuse!’
It really was, Joely agreed. Joely saw the flicker of disgust on Ben’s face and half-smiled. Ben, unfailingly honest, wouldn’t cheat on her—he’d dump her first. There was a certain level of comfort in that.
‘You spend too much money,’ the man countered. ‘I make it, you spend it.’
Ah, money. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was why she was so anal about being independent, about paying her way, paying rent, her share of the utilities, picking up the grocery bill. She never wanted Ben to think, for one moment, that she was with him for his money, of which he apparently had quite a bit.
‘I’ll contact the lawyers but you need to move out.’
‘You move out,’ the man countered. ‘I’m paying for the house.’
‘Get real.’
And the lawyers were the only winners here, they’d end up with a fatter bank account.
‘And another happy marriage bites the dust,’ Joely said, her voice low. When Ben didn’t respond she looked at him and frowned when she saw him running his finger around the collar of his shirt, his eyes on his glass of beer. ‘Ben?’
‘Yeah?’
‘You’re miles away.’
Ben flicked the still fighting couple a look that suggested that they had crawled out from under a rock. They were stupid not contagious and Joely wondered why they bothered him so much. She was pretty and he looked successful, like a million other couples in London. Ok, they were slightly touched to get married and he was a slug but why would that rile the normally easy-going Ben?
‘Let’s go,’ he suggested.
Joely looked at her half-full glass. ‘Not a chance. This margarita is heaven and we just got here. And we have free entertainment.’
‘Could’ve done without that,’ Ben muttered.
Joely sipped her margarita. ‘I want another one.’
Ben finally smiled. ‘Finish that one first, babe, and see how you feel. I have plans for you tonight and carrying you up to our room, rat-arsed, is not part of it.’
Joely lowered her glass in surprise. ‘We’re spending the night here?’
‘Yep.’
‘Why?’ Joely asked, genuinely confused. Why would they want to spend a night in a lavish hotel when Ben had a luxurious flat she’d moved into in January? What was the point of spending a fortune to sleep in another bed? She liked her bed…
Ben looked at her, puzzled. ‘I thought it would be romantic.’
Romance…geez. Ok, she wasn’t very good at all the gooey stuff that went with relationships and her job made her practical and no-nonsense. Ben was the same…in the first few months he’d done the flowers and chocolates thing but soon realised that him making them supper and giving her foot rubs got a more enthusiastic response from her. She and Ben just were… They didn’t need this superfluous stuff.
Besides, when her parents weren’t wanting to kill each other, they spoiled each other with over the top romantic gestures and it still left a sour taste in her mouth. Instead of wasting money on the weekends in Barcelona or Rome, on the seventy two red roses, the midnight picnics, they should’ve just spent that energy on loving each other…trying to stay together.
Your past has nothing to do with Ben, she told herself, forcing herself to smile. It’s a night in a nice hotel, Bennett, not a prison sentence.
She slipped her hand into Ben’s broad one and squeezed. ‘It sounds amazing, Ben.’
It didn’t, not really, but a little white lie could be forgiven since he’d gone to so much trouble to organise this for her birthday. ‘Luggage?’ she asked, still looking for an excuse.
‘Waiting for us at the front desk. Clothes for the morning, an outfit for tonight, your make-up bag and toiletries.’
God bless Ben’s organisational skills, she thought.
She lifted a naughty eyebrow. ‘Pyjamas?’
‘Jo…’ Ben drawled. ‘In the six months we’ve been living together, how many times have you slept in pyjamas?’
Ah, good point. ‘Never,’ she admitted. ‘Mostly because you take them off as soon as I get into bed.’
Ben’s eyes darkened with passion. ‘Exactly. So, we’re going to go up to our room, get naked, play around and then we’re going to have dinner and then we’re going to play around some more.’
Yeah, dinner and stunning sex. Brilliant birthday present!
* * *
Ben and Joely walked into the lift and when the lift doors closed behind them, Joely stood in front of Ben, her hand behind her, resting on his thigh. Ben wound his arm around her waist and nuzzled that sensitive spot just under her ear. The other couple in the lift, huddled into opposite corners of the lift and looking middle-aged and tired, glanced their way.
‘We used to be like them,’ the woman hissed at her husband and in the reflection of the metal panels Ben saw her pursing her lips.
‘Like what?’ the husband asked in an equally low but easily distinguishable tone.
Pursed Lips threw a malevolent glance at her husband. ‘You know…happy. Young, excited to be together…then we got married!’
Ben tipped his head back and swore silently. Seriously? Again? He thought the divorcing couple in the bar were a one off and he was now stuck in a lift with Mrs Unhappy and her Furious Spouse. Ok, universe, catch a clue. I want to ask her to get married, not reinforce her beliefs that marriage is very bad idea. Help me out here, ok? Happy married’s only please.
‘Can we not discuss this now?’ the man asked.
Good plan, Ben thought, hoping the wife would keep their marriage woes to herself. He saw her take a deep breath and knew that he was out of luck. Forgetting, or not caring, that Ben and Joely were in the lift with them, the volume of her voice lifted. ‘I cannot believe that you hauled me off to this stuffy hotel when you knew that I wanted to go to Vegas! Before we were married, you listened to me and paid attention to my needs!’
Ben wanted to send the man a sympathetic look but refrained. Guess you’re not getting lucky tonight, mate.
‘Twenty