Page 41 of Resisting the Fall

I chuckled. “If you knew I liked you, you should have said something. It could have made this whole thing a lot simpler.”

“Maybe, but where’s the fun in that?” She grabbed her violin case from my truck, then started walking backward toward her house. “Sleep well, Ben.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t hide my smile. “Night.”

My feet remained planted on her front lawn until she gave one last wave and disappeared through the front door. I smiled at the realization of what had just happened: I had kissed Maven.

“Oh, shoot,” I whispered, the goofy smile instantly falling from my face. “I kissed Maven.”

Carson was going to kill me.

Maven

Ben had hardly spoken a word since we’d collected my luggage from my mom’s. Which was fine with me. My mind was busy replaying the moment–on repeat–when I’d told my mom and Carson I’d be staying at my soon-to-be ex-husband’s house for the next little while.

It was like a collage of expressions passed over their faces in a matter of seconds—confusion, worry, amusement, and possibly even a touch of judgment. Penny, thankfully, had taken the news like a champ. She knew Ben and I were still married and that the judge had instructed us to spend time together, so the idea apparently made perfect sense to her. It probably also didn’t hurt that I’d offered to bring her to the movies the following night directly after sharing the news.

Ben pulled his truck into the parking lot of Dust & Timber, parked in front of a trailer at the back of the lot, and turned off the engine. Without a word, he got out, keeping the door open for me.

“What are we doing?” I asked.

Again, he didn’t answer, but I swore I glimpsed a smile before he turned and made his way to the bed of the truck. He lowered the tailgate and began unloading my luggage.

I unbuckled the middle seatbelt and slid out of the cab, grabbing my violin case but leaving behind both pumpkins Penny had insisted Carson buy for Ben and me at the pumpkin patch until I knew what was going on. Was he going to make me sleep in his office? “Ben?”

Loaded with my stuff, he headed in the opposite direction of Dust & Timber—toward the large fifth wheel trailer.

I hurried to catch up to him, confused.

Ben set down my luggage, took his keys from his pocket, and unlocked the door. “Welcome home,” he said, opening it.

Before I could process what he’d said, a golden retriever appeared in the doorway, its tail wagging wildly. It hurried down the steps, welcomed Ben with an excited circle in front of him, and then came to sniff my legs.

“Finn,” Ben said, making the dog instantly stop. “Manners.”

Finn. That had to be a boy, right? “Look how handsome you are.” Unable to resist saying hello, I squatted down, placing my violin case on the ground next to me so I could pet him. I glanced up at Ben. “How long have you had him?”

“Six years.”

I didn’t miss the significance of that timeframe. Had I not been renting a tiny animal-free apartment following our divorce, I might have gotten a dog myself. With one more rub behind Finn’s ears, I stood up and looked at the trailer. “Is this actually where you live?”

“It is.”

My heart sank a little. Sharing a house with Ben—one that had several rooms to escape into when necessary—had been one thing, but this…? I allowed my gaze to rove over the outside of the long dark gray exterior.

“Having a change of heart?” I could hear the amusement in his voice.

“Not at all.” I refused to admit defeat. “But what about your house over on Maple? Did you sell it?”

He slid my biggest suitcase in through the door, then grabbed my duffle. “I’m renting it.”

Renting it? Why? Was he tight on money? I doubted he just wanted to be closer to work, as Maple was just around the corner. So why would he give up his four-bedroom house for a trailer? Not that I’d ask him. Instead, I picked up my violin case and followed him inside.

The interior was actually quite impressive. To the left was a kitchen with a full-size fridge and oven, a large island, and stunning wooden cabinets with black paneling that matched the wooden ceiling and floors. A small dining room table with four chairs occupied a slide-out, and at the far end was a room with a couch, a recliner, and a gigantic TV.

“Are the bedrooms up there?” I asked, pointing at the short set of stairs to our right.

Ben’s smile went on full display. “The bedroom—singular—is up there.”