Five Ways to Fall (Ten Tiny Breaths, #4)(111)

“Yeah, we get that a lot.” I instinctively fold into Ben’s side as his arm settles over my shoulder, squeezing me tight to him.

“But you’re the best-looking, of course,” I add wryly, beating him to it.

“I am. Don’t forget it,” he teases with a chuckle and I fight the urge to kiss him. We’ve been very careful with all public displays of affection given Jack is floating around. At some point, we’re going to have to break the news to him that Ben and I are together and we’re far past just friends. Though I’ve decided that I’ll throw a fit and threaten to quit if Jack doesn’t let Ben stay at Warner, I honestly don’t know how the hell we’re going to work together. The guy can’t be in a room with me without touching me in some manner, and it doesn’t seem to matter who else is there.

He proved that early this morning when he pinched my ass as I was meeting his entire family for the first time.

I had wondered what being in a room with all five Morris children would be like, and whether Ben was an anomaly or part of a matching set. When I was finally allowed out of the attic and into the bustling sunroom, I found out quickly. The entire Morris clan plus affiliates were there, grazing off a table laden with pastries and fresh fruit and deliciously scented coffee.

Laughing. Smiling. Filling this big, sad old house with what it so desperately craved again.

A family.

Within five minutes of introductions—leaving me red-faced after Ben’s brother Jake felt the need to comment on the disruptive noise over their room last night—I could see that their ties went much farther than physical similarities. The very idea that these five children and their mother haven’t been under this roof in eight years seems unfathomable. Any outsider watching wouldn’t buy it. Then again, they also probably wouldn’t believe that the man whose physical attributes can be seen in each and every one of his boys cast a gloom over their lives dark enough to make them abandon each other.

The service for Ben’s father was held in an old white church ten miles away and was solemn, as expected. What wasn’t expected was the crowd of people in attendance. Though Joshua Senior may not have made many lasting friends, the Bernard and Morris families certainly have. Those people packed the church to pay their respects, over two hundred of them returning to the grove with the family for a late lunch.

“What do you think’s going to happen now?”

Ben frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I mean tomorrow and next week, and next month. Look at everyone.” I gesture toward his family—Jake standing behind his girlfriend, his arms coiled around her belly; Rob and his wife laughing at their kids; Elsie and Josh linked arm-in-arm and smiling. Granted, I didn’t know them before, but they all look so content. And Wilma . . . The woman has been dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief all day. During the service, I know those tears were meant for the loss of her husband. But mostly, it wasn’t sadness I saw.

It was gratitude, and relief.

“This house is meant to be filled with noise. Wilma’s meant to see her children. Her grandchildren should be running around, laughing and swinging on that big old swing. Even Quincy’s in heaven right now!”

Ben chuckles. “She’s going to end up in dog heaven soon. She’s too fat for all this excitement.”

“But what happens after today?” I press. “Please tell me you guys have talked. Something has to change. For Wilma’s sake, for this grove’s sake . . .” A lump in my throat is forming, as I think about how sad and lonely Wilma will be once everyone’s gone. As much as I loved the grove before, now that I’ve seen it at its best—alive—I can’t bear to see it so quiet and empty again.

Ben sighs. “I’m not sure yet, Reese. Everyone’s got a life somewhere else now. We’ll see what happens.”

“You need to make it happen, Ben. At least for holidays and birthdays and . . .” A thought hits me. “Jake and Rita should get married here. You need to tell him that.”

“Sure!” Ben’s face splits out in a wide grin as he cups one hand over his mouth and hollers, “Jake! Reese thinks you and Rita should have your wedding here!”

“Ben!” I’m not fast enough shoving my fist into Ben’s ribs to cut off his words and, by the flat glare his brother gives him, Jake isn’t impressed by them. If Rita heard them, which I’m sure she did, she doesn’t let on, intent on keeping her focus on the two little girls.

“Benjamin, would you stop harassing your brother,” Wilma’s stern voice calls. We turn to see her closing the distance, trailed by Jack and Mason. I instinctively shift away from my comfortable nook against Ben’s body at the same time that his arm slowly retracts from my shoulders, until just his hand is settled on my back.

“Ben, Jack was just telling me how impressed he is with you at work,” Wilma explains, smiling up at her son, her face full of pride.

“I proofread like a boss,” Ben mocks good-naturedly.

“Though I don’t know why you bothered with law school, given you had this place to fall back on. It’s breathtaking here,” Jack offers, his hands lifting in gesture of our surroundings.

“It is,” Ben agrees.

“Maybe you and Mason can come with Reese another time. I’m expecting her up here quite a lot.”