Page 73 of Off Script
After pouring myself a cup of coffee, I take a seat on one of the bar stools and watch Carlisle as she works. Unbidden, an image of Carlisle at the stove with a couple of kids at her feet jumps into my mind. That should scare me, and maybe I’m getting ahead of myself, but for the first time since Kelsey and I split up, the thought of building a life, and possibly a family, with someone doesn’t freak me out.
Carlisle is exactly where she needs to be. In my home and in my heart.
While I eat, Carlisle plates her breakfast and then takes a series of photos of it before she starts eating.
“What are you doing?” I mumble between bites.
“Nothing,” she replies. “It’s just a hobby of mine.”
“I never had you pegged as one of those people who has to photograph their food before they can eat it.” Shoveling another bite in my mouth, I moan. “This is really fucking good, by the way.” Carlisle beams at my compliment. I’ll keep complimenting her if it means that she’ll keep smiling at me like she just did.
“Instead of using milk to dilute the eggs, I pureed cottage cheese, so it has added protein.”
“I appreciate that. Thanks.” She’s obviously been listening to me when I’ve harped on how important protein is to my diet.
While Carlisle takes a shower, I pop into the pool house to discuss an idea I had with Joanna. I’m going to need her help to pull it off.
I plop into the comfortable blue and white striped armchair that sits across from Jo’s desk. She’s on the phone and holds up a fingersignaling for me to wait. I listen as she goes back and forth with someone about my travel schedule.
Dropping her cell phone onto her desk with a clatter, Jo grins at me. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I need your help.” I grab a pen from the cupholder and play with it, spinning it between my fingers. “After the debacle at Le Bistro, I can’t take Carlisle out on dates, so I want to bring the dates to her. I want to make this week special, so she knows how important she is to me.”
Squealing, Jo rubs her hands together excitedly. “Oh, I love this idea! Like instead of going out to dinner and a movie, we’ll bring the dinner and a movie to her?”
“Exactly,” I nod vigorously. I knew Jo would be all over this idea.
“Ok, this I can do. And it’ll be more fun than calling all the hotels you're staying at during the promo tour to see if they carry the special electrolyte water you prefer.” She rolls her eyes.
“Shut up. But speaking of when I’m gone, do you have any advice on how best to reassure Carlisle while I'm traveling? Willa and I will be together nonstop, and I don’t want the scrutiny of the press to get inside Carlisle’s head.”
Contemplating my question before answering, Jo suggests, “Keep in contact with her as much as you can. Tell her beforehand if she’s going to see or hear something in the news that might be upsetting.” Jo stops and eyes me shrewdly. “But really, you need to ask Carlisle that question, not me. Let her know that this is something you’ve thought of, and that you’re working to prioritize and protect her feelings. She may have different triggers that you’re unaware of.”
“I will, but I want to go above and beyond what she expects.” I want her to feel confident about our relationship, so that shewon’t have any room in her heart for doubts. “I’ve never felt this way about a woman before and I don’t want to screw it up."
Any more than I already have, anyway.
“Good for you, Ben. I’m proud of you.” Jo sends a brilliant smile my way.
“Thanks, Jo. I’ve come up with some date ideas,” I slide a piece of paper across the desk to her, “but I need your help with the logistics of arranging everything.”
As Jo reads through the list, the corners of her mouth rise. Apparently, I did good.
That evening, the first of our surprise at-home dates commences.
As the sun starts setting, I lead Carlisle to the outside patio overlooking the pool. The veranda has been decorated with thousands of white, twinkling lights that grow brighter as the sun sets. Their sparkles reflect off the placid water in the pool, magnifying the glittering effect. The patio dining table is covered with bouquets of fresh flowers and candles waiting to be lit, and peaceful music pours from the outdoor speakers.
Off to the side, two masseuses stand next to their massage tables, ready for our private couple’s massages. They greet us politely and hand us two pale blue terry cloth robes with the Beverly Hills Spa insignia embroidered on them. Grabbing her hand, I lead Carlisle towards the pool house to change.
Mouth agape, she looks at me in astonishment. “What’s going on, Ben?”
“Since my life is a chaotic circus and we can’t go out on dates, I wanted to bring the dates to you, babe. Our relationship is unconventional, but I want to make it as normal as I can.”
Her eyes sparkle as she laughs. “This is not even close to normal, Ben.”
Once inside the pool house, I lift her arms up and my hands slide to the bottom hem of her tank top. Pausing, I question her with my eyes, silently asking for permission to undress her. I haven't seen her naked since the first, and only, time we had sex. When she nods, I feel a rush of pleasure as I slowly unwrap her like a present, savoring the removal of each item of clothing in anticipation of getting to see her body again.
I slip her top over her head before coasting my hands down her neck and back to remove her bra. Then my hands graze south to her hips. I hook my thumbs underneath the sides of her shorts and panties and guide them down her legs until I reach her feet. My gentle touch sends a shiver down her body as goosebumps break out across her skin. I love that her body responds to the merest touch from mine. As she steps out of her clothes, I caress her ankle and softly kiss the inside of her knee, trailing my nose upwards towards the apex of her thighs.
