the inn

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The familiar sound of the click, swish and thud of the door opening and closing alerted Nicole to Benedict's arrival home. His soft footsteps brought him into the kitchen where she was finishing up preparing that night's dinner. "Halloooooo Mr. Just Ben!" she greeted him.
"Hello." he smiled broadly.
"How was your first day?"
He sat himself down in one of the chairs at the table, leaning back and kicking his legs out in front of him. "It was good. No major hitches. Everyone got along well."
"That's good. Did you actually shoot or just rehearse?"
"We had rehearsals already, before we started shooting."
"Of course," she nodded. "Well, how about dinner?" she looked up at him smiling.
"Sounds good."
Nicole grabbed his place setting she had pulled earlier and set it in front of him returning to the kitchen.
He eyed the plate, and then her, "Have you eaten already?"
"No. Not yet. I'll eat later." she smiled.
"Are you going to make me ask you every night to join me?"
Nicole smiled, and laughed to herself. "Yes, likely."
"Why?"
"Maybe a girl wants to feel wanted." she batted her eyelashes at him, jokingly.
"You're ridiculous."
"You're not the first person to point that out."
"Fine. Would you like to join me for dinner?"
"Sure." she chuckled.
"In fact, why don't we just make this a standard deal?"
"We'll see.”

****After Dinner***

“That was great, thank you,” Benedict said.
“You are very welcome.”
Benedict picked up his glass and leaned back in his chair taking a sip. “So,” he said.
“So.”
“Single to an embarrassing degree,” he grinned.
Nicole groaned leaning forward resting her head in her hands. She listened to Benedict chuckle from the other side of the table.
“Well, this is bound to be...

... middle of paper ...

... “I know,” she finally got out, “I-it’s fine.” she nodded her head a little too frantically. She expected him to let go of her hand. When he didn’t, panic started to dance its way in. She could not stand here like this, holding his hand, gazing into his eyes, in the middle of her kitchen with a sturdy, freshly cleared kitchen table Right. There. She could not do that.
It took all her will, and all her might, but she summoned up a few ounces of common sense and snapped out of her stupor. She gave his hand a small squeeze and let go, but not before she saw a flash of recognition of his affect on her. Shit. She hurriedly walked through the kitchen and into the formal dining room where she had left the cupcakes she made earlier in the day. Thank whatever deity told her to put them in the other room so she could collapse onto that table and catch her breath.

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