The Playboy's Proposal (Sorensen Family) (10 page)

The pupils were even, no dilation. That was good. In fact, his eyes were shining a little too brightly. Henry’s lips trembled then, almost like he was trying not to—

“You jerk.” She slugged him just as a chortle shot from his mouth.

“The look on your face was priceless,” he said and rubbed his arm. “But you do carry quite a punch, so take it easy, slugger.”

“Serves you right. But I am serious about the concussion. Here.” She held her hand out. “Take it. I need to test your strength. Okay. Squeeze. Next hand.”

Ten minutes later, she was somewhat mollified that Henry wasn’t suffering severe brain damage, but from his stumble and his concession that he did have a mild headache, she hadn’t ruled out the possibility of a concussion.

“We should get you to the ER to be examined, just in case,” she said as he swallowed the two Tylenol the club had provided at her request.

“Absolutely not. What would they tell me that you can’t confirm yourself? I know a little something about concussions. I may have suffered one or two back in my Little League days. All they’d suggest is that I take it easy, not do anything too strenuous over the next few days, and if I feel any sort of confusion, dizziness, increased headache, that sort of thing, to get myself more thoroughly examined. All of which I can do without going to the hospital.”

He stood up, and two seconds later, sat back down. “No. That was nothing. Just a little head rush from coming to my feet too fast.”

She sighed. “Well, we should get you home, at any rate. But you should know, for the next twelve hours, I’m not letting you out of my sight. You shouldn’t be left alone in case your symptoms worsen.”

“I’ll be fine. I don’t need a nursemaid.”

“Sure. And when I come by in the morning to see how you’re doing and find you either comatose or dead, having suffered massive brain swelling or bleeding, that will be of some comfort to me. To Ella.”

He quirked up a brow, probably about to deliver some zinger about not knowing that she cared, but his effect was diminished when he flinched and raised his hand to touch the growing goose egg.

She couldn’t resist a tiny smirk. “See?” She came to her feet and held her hand out to him to offer assistance. “In fact, I think it only makes sense, considering your dizziness and lack of equilibrium, that I drive us home.”

“You think you’re up to it? That’s a lot of power.”

“I went to medical school. How hard can it be?”

Chapter Ten

Okay. So up to now, had anyone asked Benny whether she thought the bloated prices that people paid for flashy sports cars like Ferraris were insane, she’d have agreed and added it was a ridiculous display of money and conceit for those who might be compensating for…
something
.

At least up until they reached the freeway and the slightest touch of the gas had her cruising at a dangerously heart-stopping speed—for Benny, anyway. Her adrenaline was pumping, and she had the crazy notion to throw back her head and laugh maniacally, even as the wind was making fast work of messing up her tidy ponytail.

“You do realize what the actual posted speed limit is,” Henry said from the passenger seat.

She pulled a piece of hair from her mouth. “Yeah. Guess I should take it down a notch.” Only…wow. The way the car rode was so smooth that the temptation to take it higher was intoxicating.

But common sense prevailed, and she eased up on the gas a smidge. She grinned a little wildly over at Henry. “Had I known driving this thing could be this much fun, I might be the proud owner of a shiny new Ferrari. Even if I would have to curl up in the front seat in a sleeping bag every night since I couldn’t afford to live anywhere else. How much does something like this actually set you back? Wait. No. I don’t want to know.”

“If you’re really enjoying it that much, why don’t we take it for a longer spin? Maybe to Vegas? We could be there in five hours. Four at the rate you’re going now.”

“The idea is tantalizing…” She imagined the purring motor as they cruised at a steady one hundred miles per hour on the freeway, or driving down the Las Vegas Strip with the top down and feeling like a million bucks, like she owned the world, maybe having a turn at the slots or taking in a show. But… “Unfortunately, I have work bright and early in the morning, so taking off like that isn’t an option. It is Sunday.”

As soon as she said the words, she cringed. Crap. She’d nearly forgotten.

“Actually”—she risked a sideway glance at him—“I should mention that I have a standing dinner invitation this evening, and since I am not letting you out of my sight”—she had nearly killed him, after all—“I’m afraid you better get used to the idea that you’re coming along.”

“Standing dinner plans? That does sound intriguing. Where are we going?”

“My parents’. For Sunday dinner. It’s tradition.”

“Seriously? People actually do that? I thought that only existed in television shows like
The Waltons
and
Parenthood
. How…quaint.”

Quaint?
Good Lord, this was going to be a disaster.

Henry Ellison in her family home while her brothers played their usual head games like they had with all of her—okay, mostly Daisy’s—dates.
Not that this is a date!

Any other Sunday dinner, under these circumstances of playing Henry Ellison’s nursemaid, she’d beg off. But her older brother and his new wife had just returned from their Mexican honeymoon, so everyone was going to be there to welcome them home.

Bailing just wasn’t an option.

“Whatever you do, let’s not mention to anyone the role you’re playing in my little scheme. Not a word about makeovers or Luke Seeley. Got it?”

He glanced at her, the picture of a saint. Then he grinned widely, his eyes twinkling in anticipation, and she fought a nervous dread compounded by something a little more…excited.

“Let’s just see if you’re still grinning when this night is over.”

…

Despite the dozen or so girls that Henry had dated in high school, he didn’t have a lot of experience when it came to meeting parents and brothers and sisters and all that might constitute a family. Up until he left his mother’s house at eighteen, the girls he’d dated had usually—not to brag—come to him. Showed up at his house because they were curious to see where he lived and what it was like to step foot in the massive mausoleum, maybe even catch a glimpse of the mysterious Margaret Brighton. Those rare dates when he did pick someone up, they came running out the door before he’d stepped out of his car.

So he wasn’t exactly sure what was in store for him when they pulled up to Benny’s parents’ modest ranch-style home, where a driveway of cars told him most—if not all—of her family was already inside.

“Don’t be nervous, everything will be fine,” Benny told him, her voice barely a whisper as she hopped out of the car.

“Should I be?” he asked, joining her on the sidewalk. He eyed the sexy white capris she’d changed into, the sleeveless navy blouse with more pretty embroidery around the neck, and the black heeled sandals. She had really gotten the hang of this fashion thing. And a few other things.

All while keeping her sass.

He smiled and waited for her response.

The slight smile and furrow of her brows gave him the distinct impression she was looking on him with sympathy, which immediately made him curious. Before he could question it, the front door was thrown open and two young girls with long dark brown hair and bright smiles looked at them expectantly. He wasn’t an expert, but he’d guess they were probably a handful of years older than his own niece.

“Everyone was here ages ago, Aunt Benny,” the older one said. “We have Twister set up in the family room, but no one will play with us. Uncle Dominic said to ask you.”

“I’ll bet he did,” Benny said and stepped inside.

But the younger little girl hadn’t stopped looking at him, and her smile had now widened into a grin. “Are you my aunt Benny’s boyfriend?”

The clatter from the back of the house he’d heard when they first stepped inside had suddenly gone suspiciously quiet.

Before he could articulate a response, Benny hurried in, her voice loud and clear. “Of course not, Natalie. This is Mr. Ellison. He lives next door to me and he might be suffering a minor concussion from earlier today, so I insisted he have dinner with us.”

Something told him that this statement had been less for the young girls and more for whoever might be waiting for them in the other room.

“Henry, these are my two minions—I mean nieces, Jenna and Natalie,” she added in a more conversational tone.

“I’m Natalie,” the youngest and clearly most outspoken of the two said. She reminded him of someone…

“Hi, Natalie. It’s nice to meet you, and please. Call me Henry,” he said and held his hand out to the girl, who now seemed to be looking at him a little more…affectionately. She shook it with aplomb. He did the same with the older girl. Jenna took it, her face solemn although her eyes studied him with curiosity.

“What your aunt isn’t telling you is that she whacked me over the head with a golf club earlier and now feels guilty for nearly killing me.”

Natalie covered her mouth with her other hand and giggled.

“One could wonder, however,” Benny said and walked down the hall, with them following, “why a man who claims to be an expert would have let himself stand in the range of said club.”

“I think I was so in awe of how truly atrocious your golf swing was that the club heading for my head took me completely off guard.”

More giggles, and then they were in a bigger open room. To the left was a large kitchen with several people already working; to the right was a family room with a decent-size television and the aforementioned Twister game already spread out on the floor. Separating the two living spaces was a long dining table and French patio doors that led out onto a deck. The place felt airy and friendly.

The expressions of the people in the room were another question, and from the hush that followed he gathered they’d all been whispering just moments before.

“Hi, everyone. This is Henry Ellison,” Benny said, repeating the introduction he knew everyone had already heard. “As I explained to Mom, he’s going to be having dinner with us.”

A petite woman with dark brown hair came over. “Hello, Henry. I’m Benny’s mom, Elena,” she said with a faint accent that told him she wasn’t a native speaker. She smiled at him warmly, though, the same curious gleam in those brown eyes as her granddaughters had shown him. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

Of course they had. He wouldn’t bet on it being particularly flattering. But he’d used his charm and sparkling wit to get out of tough spots before. This wasn’t impossible. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Sorensen. Your home is lovely. And I appreciate your letting me crash your family dinner.”

“Please, it’s Elena. You are more than welcome in our home,” she added and he was certain it wasn’t necessarily meant just for him. “Let me make the introductions while Benny gets you two something to drink.” Benny lifted her brows briefly and went into the kitchen, grabbing a couple of glasses from the cupboard.

Over by the sink, a tall redhead was watching him, suspicion in her gray eyes as she washed a bowl of tomatoes. The even taller hulk standing next to her with dark hair and blue eyes looked at him with less suspicion and more outright dislike as he gripped a butcher knife. From the cutting board and half tomato already diced, Henry assured himself the guy wasn’t holding it to stab him.

“Henry, this is my son Dominic and his beautiful new wife, Kate.” He recognized the couple from Benny’s photograph.

“A pleasure,” Henry said, offering his hand first to Kate, who quickly dried hers on a towel and took his firmly, smiling politely. He turned to Dominic.

“So you’re the player next door to my little sister, huh? Partying at all times of the night like you’re running a frat house.” He hesitated but took Henry’s hand, his shake solid and a great deal stronger than necessary.

“Yes, well, I’m a businessman, and often have clients over. We try to keep the toga parties reserved for special occasions, though.”

Dominic didn’t break into a smile. “Why were you giving my little sister golf lessons again?”

Tough crowd.

“Well, the truth is that it wasn’t my idea. You see—”

“Henry, did you want beer, wine, water, or iced tea?” Benny interjected.

“Water is fine.”

Benny handed a bottle to him and warned him with the flash of her blue eyes not to say another word.

“You haven’t met my sister, Daisy, yet,” she said and nodded toward the stunning brunette with dark eyes and long hair who was chopping at another counter.

“Hi, Henry,” the woman said in a singsong voice and waved. “Nice to finally meet you. Benny, you didn’t tell me you wanted to take up golf,” Daisy added, not ready to let her sister off the hook.

“I didn’t? It’s not a big deal, I just thought it might be a good idea, you know, if, um…”

“Some of the doctors at her practice invited her to play next weekend, and rather than decline, she thought she’d take some lessons. Try to learn a few things.”

“Learn a few things? We’re just talking golf now, right?” Dominic challenged.

Henry didn’t look away, steadily meeting the guy’s gaze before breaking into a smile. “Yes. Just golf.”

It was all rather cute the way they rallied to protect Benny like this. Didn’t they know the woman could probably take them all on? One-handed?

“Oh, knock it off, Dom,” his wife said and laughed. “Lay off Mr. Ellison at least until after dinner.”

Benny took Henry’s hand and dragged him through the dining area to the open French doors. “Let’s introduce you to the rest of the bunch.”

A tall man with light blond hair who Henry knew was Benny’s father manned the grill, a small boy of six or seven standing next to him. Another couple was seated and had stopped speaking at their arrival. Henry recognized the other brother, the oldest of the siblings, with his arm around a pretty reddish-blond woman. The honeymooners, if he wasn’t mistaken.

“Everyone, this is my neighbor
and friend
, Henry Ellison,” Benny said this time with emphasis on the “friend” part. “Henry, this is my dad, Petter Sorensen”—Henry took the older man’s hand, blue eyes steady on him but not necessarily unfriendly, despite the lack of movement of his facial muscles—“and this is my nephew, Paul, my brother Cruz, and his wife, Payton.”

Dutifully, Henry walked around and greeted them all, noticing that Cruz’s handshake was no less forceful than his brother’s. “Nice to meet you. Hope you don’t mind me crashing your dinner.”

Cruz, like his father, didn’t say much, but Payton and Paul were more effusive in their greetings. Paul in particular, when he ran over and grabbed both of their hands, tugging them into the house. “Twister time!” he shouted.

“Buddy, why don’t you and your sisters just play—” Benny started.

“Not a chance, Benny,” Daisy said, hearing her trying to beg off. “You bought the game for them. I think the least you can do is play with them as well.” She smiled like the Cheshire cat.

Now all three kids were jumping up and down, shouting to get started, and Benny gave him a helpless smile. “You up for it?”

“Twister? I’d love to. Just don’t let your aunt get too close to me,” he said to the kids. “I wouldn’t want to risk the loss of a limb or another smack to the head.”

“No promises,” she said, but she was smiling.

At least until five minutes in, when Jenna, who’d decided to sit out the first round on the couch in between her aunts Payton and Kate, called out the next move.

Right hand to blue.

Which placed Benny Sorensen practically underneath him while he tried to balance precariously with his body contorted in ways he’d never known possible. Not just beneath him, but her backside pressed dangerously close to his left hip and her hand nearly on his own. Something he probably would have enjoyed any other time, with the woman’s intoxicating warm vanilla smell surrounding him.

But not when her entire family was looking on. Her brothers still seemed like they were waiting for a reason to tackle him.

Benny raised her luminous eyes to his then, and for just a moment, he was able to block out the dozens of eyes trained on them. Enjoy the flush on her face that had it pink and bright, her lips parted as she took in their close proximity.

And he realized.

Benny Sorensen was the most beautiful woman who’d ever been under him. And it took every ounce of strength he had not to lean toward her and kiss those delectable lips.