Page 54 of Resisting the Fall

With one last amused grin thrown my way, he started back toward the trailer.

Penny took my hand again. “If he gave you a key, does that mean you’re staying in Autumn Ridge longer?”

Honestly, after tonight, it would probably be best to reassess my entire plan. Ben was proving more difficult to crack than I’d originally planned. I was supposed to be in and out of Autumn Ridge by the week’s end, not getting a key to his place. Either I needed to up the ante quickly and efficiently or I needed to bail and accept the terms of our reconciliation order. But that would mean I would have lost to Ben.

“I’ll stay a little longer,” I said, mostly resolved.

Maven

“Up and at ’em.” Ben’s voice roused me from my sleep right before he flipped the lights on in his bedroom.

“What time is it?” I groaned, fairly certain it was still dark outside, though it was hard to be confident with the disorienting lights shining overhead.

“Almost six-thirty.”

Ha. I rolled over. There was no way I was getting up right now.

Ben came to the side of his bed and yanked the comforter off of me.

With the blast of chilly air, I shot upward, taking hold of the corner and pulling it back toward me. “What if I’d been sleeping in my underwear?”

Ben didn’t relent, holding tight to the comforter. “It’s not like I haven’t seen that before.”

Ugh! “What are you even doing?”

Finn poked his head into the room, his tail wagging wildly at our game of tug-of-war.

“I have to leave, and you have lost the privilege of being left here alone.”

I stilled, wondering which of my little surprises he’d discovered. Or maybe he was mad I’d commandeered his bed, essentially calling his bluff that he’d happily share it with me and forcing him to sleep on the couch. “Why exactly?”

He just stared at me. “Let’s go.”

I stared right back. “No.”

His brows lifted. “I’ll carry you out of here like that if you’d prefer.”

I narrowed my eyes, deciding whether he was being serious. He was. “At least tell me where we’re going so I know how to dress,” I said, releasing the blanket and quickly adjusting my shorts and tank top.

With one seemingly involuntary sweep of my body, he abruptly turned to leave the room. “Wear jeans and a sweatshirt,” he called, making his way down the stairs.

I sat there for a solid minute, deciding how annoyed to be, before convincing myself this was actually a huge victory. Ben was cracking. It was time to push him a little harder.

With that in mind, I took my sweet time getting ready, finally coming out of the bathroom nearly forty-five minutes later.

Ben waited for me at the table, his leg bouncing up and down restlessly. Ben rarely got impatient, so that was a good sign.

The overwhelming smell of bacon wafted in the air from Ben’s breakfast, making my stomach growl. “Am I going to be able to grab breakfast somewhere?” I asked. “Or should I just make something here before we⁠—”

Without speaking, he gestured to a paper plate sitting in front of him with what looked to be some kind of breakfast burrito on it, wrapped in foil.

“That’s for me?”

“It’s probably cold now.”

My conscience pricked me slightly. But maybe that was exactly the reason Ben had made me breakfast. He knew I’d feel bad and, consequently, ease up on him. It wasn’t happening. Not until he changed his mind.

When I attempted to grab it, Ben pulled the burrito out of reach and stood. “You can have it in the truck. We’ve got to go or I’m going to be late.”