Page 118 of Off Script
Once Ben realized that even with the intervention of his new PR team, the public harassment wasn’t going to stop on its own, he reached out to Willa for assistance. By that time, she was travelling the world, far away from the madness of the Hollywood tabloids. Kindly, she began posting photos of herself with a guy who she met on her travels. She never showed his face, nor did she ever explicitly state that they were together, but it was enough for most fans to realize that both Ben and Willa had both moved on and weren’t getting back together.
We knew that fans had finally given up hope of a reconciliation between Ben and Willa when the top trending hashtag across several social media platforms was#RIPWillen.
And then when the tabloids found out who Willa’s new beau was… whew, let’s just say the spotlight was off Ben and me. The worldwide press had a field day reporting on Willa’s new romance, and while she dislikes the public’s obsession, she knew that it was inevitable. So, though our roads to love were rocky, Willa and I have both found our happily-ever-afters.
After the debacle in Tokyo, I promised myself that I would never lose myself for a guy again. So, I’ve continued to treat my cooking accounts as a job, devoting my time and energy to creating new recipes and posting photos and videos regularly. Luckily, Ben loves to cook almost as much as I do, so when he isn’t working, he’s in the kitchen with me acting as my sous chef. He’s even made a few onscreen cameos in some of my recipe videos. Those videos always end up going viral. I love that he supports me just as much as I support him.
Teamwork makes the dream work.
And I’m trying to be a good teammate tonight, but it's late and I'm tired. We're at our third after party and we're listening to a studio exec regale us with grandiose stories from his past in Hollywood.
Ben’s arm hangs loosely around my waist, his fingers resting on my hip. He slides his eyes to mine and covertly raises an eyebrow, his way of subtly checking in on how I’m doing. He’s good like that. I toss him a reassuring smile. Despite my exhaustion, this is his night to celebrate, and I’m willing to stay for as long as he wants.
Ben pulls me into his chest for a hug, dropping a sweet kiss on the top of my head. “We’ll leave in a few minutes, babe,” he whispers in my ear, and I nod gratefully.
I’m glad he’s ready to leave. Because I have a surprise waiting for him at home.
Between the two of us, Ben is typically the one to surprise me with big, romantic overtures. Last year, he planned a surprise getaway for my birthday and rented out an entire island and invited Harper and Philip to join us. (Yep, they’re still together and very much in love.) Then there was the time when he told me that he wanted to take me to a French restaurant… and then whisked me off to Paris for the weekend.
While my surprise won’t come with the pomp and circumstance and extravagance that Ben’s surprises usually do, mine is going to be the bestone yet.
Walking into our bedroom, I kick off my heels and feel the tension in my body unravel. It feels good to be home.
“Help me undress?” I sweep my hair over my shoulder.
“Gladly.” His fingers deftly unhook the tiny buttons at the nape of my neck, sending a delicious shiver down my spine. Ben sprinkles the column of my neck with gentle kisses and my head lolls to the side at the sensation of his mouth nipping my skin.
I need to stay focused and follow through with my plan. Stepping away, I hold the bodice of my gown to my chest so that it doesn’t fall to my waist. “Get your comfy clothes on and meet me downstairs,” I tell him over my shoulder. Then I walk into the master closet to change clothes.
Good God, the bliss I feel when I peel off my Spanx is nearly orgasmic.
Once I’m dressed in pajamas, I re-enter the bedroom to find Ben lounging on the edge of the bed, still dressed in his rumpled tux and petting Wally. Ben’s jacket is off, and his bow tie hangs around his collar with several buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. He looks like a GQ model.
“Are you sure we need to go down there? I can think of plenty of things that we can do without leaving the room.” His voice is rough and sexy and laced heavily with innuendo.
I refuse to fall prey to his potent masculinity though. "Yep, I'm sure." I waltz out of the room without a backwards glance. Ben issues a disgruntled grumble.
In the kitchen, I pull out the homemade pasta I made earlier in the day and start frying up some bacon. Real bacon, none of that healthy turkey bacon tonight. This is a celebratory late-night dinner, after all. Spaghetti carbonara is one of Ben’s favorite pasta dishes and it’s the perfect dish to make tonight. It’s fast to prepare and the carbs and grease will help soak up the alcohol he drank at the after parties.
While the food smells divine, it’s the sight of Ben that causes my mouth to water when he strolls into the kitchen a few minutes later. I love him in a tuxedo, but it doesn’t get much sexier than a plain white tee stretched over his muscular chest and arms, soft knit joggers that sit low on his hips, bare feet, and mussed hair.
“What’s all this?” He gestures to the kitchen table that I set with fancy plates and decorated with fresh flowers. Atop his plate sits a small, gift-wrapped present.
“I got you a little surprise.”
Honestly, it was a surprise to me too.
He smirks. “What if I hadn’t won?”
“Then it would have made one hell of a consolation prize.”
His hands, which had been behind his back, swing forward. I spy a small gift bag which he holds out for me to take. “Great minds think alike. I got you something too.”
Stretching up on my tiptoes, I kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Ben. But you go first. Open it.”
I’m too nervous about my gift to even think about opening the present he bought me. I narrow my lips into a straight line and clasp my clammy hands together as I watch him unwrap the small, rectangular box.
Hesitating, he gently shakes the box before removing the lid. “Is it a watch?” he guesses.
