“Ben, I’ll be fine, and if I run into trouble, there’s always this,” I say, holding up my cell phone before realizing that I don’t even have his phone number. I hold it out to him, and say, “It might be helpful to have your number, though.”
Ben locks his green eyes on me and holds me captive in his stare as he stalks toward me and takes my phone from his hand. I squirm slightly because the man is sexy when he’s brooding. His fingers fly across the screen before he hands the phone back to me. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he says, his voice stern.
I want to say something smart in return, but I swallow my words. Ben cups my face and kisses me fiercely. “Come to the pub when you’re done exploring,” he tells me.
I follow him out of the flat, and when he turns to head toward the pub, which is only a few blocks away, I’m more than eager to head in the opposite direction toward Kensington Gardens. I’m desperate to explore the neighborhoods teeming with so much history and to see places that I’ve only dreamed about visiting.
This is the cure for wanderlust that I came to find.
Ben
Our usual delivery is totally cocked up, and I know it’s going to take me hours to sort, which is fine because then I won’t worry too much about Milly wandering around London alone. I get it; she wants to prove to me and maybe herself that she can navigate a city like London alone, but it’s so easy to get lost.
“Well, isn’t this the dog’s dinner,” Lewis, the manager of the pub, says as he comes up next to me.
“Yeah, well, you better check over this inventory list to make sure we don’t get diddled,” I scold him. “I’m not about to take the piss because you’re a daft arse.”
“Hey, is that any way to talk to your best mate? Didn’t I see you chatting up some girl last night? I thought you might have come into work whistling a happier tune.”
I roll my eyes. “All right, Lew. Stop naffing about and let’s get on with this.” Even though Lewis is, as he correctly proclaimed, my best mate, he’s also one of the biggest gossips, and I don’t want my business broadcasted to the entire pub and most of Notting Hill.
I slip my phone out of my pocket and frown. Milly’s been out exploring for a few hours and no call. I can’t help but worry not because I think she’s helpless but because she’s brought out a dormant alpha side in me. I want to protect her from the ugliness of London. It’s not all palaces and Hugh Grant rom-coms.
Minutes later, my phone erupts in my hand, and I know exactly who it is.
“Are you lost?” I ask her before she can manage a word. Yes, I’m being totally smug because I want to fucking save the day like a goddamn white knight.
“Maybe? A little?” Gone is the confident attitude she had when she left my flat this afternoon.
“Where are you?”
“Camden, I think.”
“How the fuck did you end up in Camden?”
“The Tube. I got on at Oxford Circus, and I wasn’t paying attention to which line I was on or even what direction I was heading. And then I just panicked and got off and wandered a bit.”
I breath in deeply and try to picture where she is. “Okay, well, just make your way back to the nearest station. Shouldn’t be hard to find. And then get off at Notting Hill Gate. I’ll meet you there.”
“Okay. Shouldn’t be too hard,” she agrees, but I hear the hesitation in her voice. She’s lost her confidence.
“Call me when you get to the nearest station so I can tell you how to get back.”
We end the call, and I gather up my things and start heading out. It’s dinnertime, and there will be a mad rush of people leaving work and heading home, but she shouldn’t have any difficulties once she’s on the Tube. Ten minutes later, she rings me to let me know she’s made it to the Camden Road station. I give her what seems like a complicated set of directions to follow because it’s not a straight shot. She’ll have to get on and get off the Tube a few times. I make her repeat them to me, so I know she understands. When I’m confident that she won’t end up in SoHo, we hang up. I pick up my pace and make it to the Notting Hill Gate station with plenty of time to spare. I pop into a coffee shop and grab a latte because I know it will be a while yet until Milly arrives.
I pace at the entrance of the Tube station around the time I think she’ll appear. When I catch my first glimpse of her in a massive swarm of people, I sigh with relief.
“Milly!” I call out, and she stops, and several passengers heading home have to swerve abruptly to avoid knocking her over. They don’t have pleasant things to say. She pushes through the crowd toward me, and my heart beats rapidly with the excitement of seeing her after just a few short hours of separation. Her hair is knotted on top of her head, and her coat is buttoned up tight, but it’s her cherry red lips that I’m interested in. I pull her to me and kiss her thoroughly, claiming her as mine.
“I don’t think I’m going to let you out of my sight,” I purr once the kiss is ended. I wrap an arm around her shoulders and tuck her in close, but she stiffens a bit and pulls away.
“About that,” she starts. “My bank called while I was out getting lost. Apparently, I have fraud protection on my account, and they’ll be able to return my money a lot sooner than expected.”
“How soon?” This is undoubtedly great news for Milly, but I haven’t had my fill of her yet.
“By the end of the week,” she answers with a week smile. “Could you help me sort out someplace new?”
I purse my lips and think. Do I really want to let Milly go? “Actually, I don’t think I can,” I say coolly and honestly.
