Five Ways to Fall (Ten Tiny Breaths, #4)(45)

“Oh, hush. I’m not an invalid. One tiny heart attack isn’t going to kill me.” Ben’s stern glare of disapproval only makes her smile wider at him. I can see where he got his impish charm from. But I can also feel the weight of his fear at Wilma’s words. In just one afternoon, I can see how this woman might leave a sizeable hole in many people’s lives when she’s gone.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, Reese, so there’s some water, sweet tea, and Coke in there. I also packed a light snack. Some scones and homemade marmalade. Ben’s favorite.”

“Of course it is,” I tease, reaching up to pinch Ben’s cheek playfully as he sets the cooler down on the tailgate. “Thank you so much.”

“How’d you know where to find us?” Ben asks as he fishes through the selection.

A knowing smirk curls Wilma’s lips. “Because this is your favorite spot in the grove. Did you honestly think I didn’t know it was you and Jake leaving beer cans out here?” She looks at me and shakes her head. “You know, Ben and his brother would sneak out here at night—thinking I had no idea—and then try to convince me that the grove workers were drinking on the job. Oh, but I wasn’t ever allowed to confront or fire them without better evidence. My little future football-player-slash-lawyer was so worried about potential lawsuits for doing that.”

Ben has the decency to look a little sheepish as he sucks back a gulp of water. “So, is that why you came out here, Mama?”

She gives him a pointed look but then says, “I really need you to take a look at that tractor before you go.”

“Sure,” he offers, pulling his phone out to check the time, and heaves a sigh. “I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“Well, maybe you should just stay for dinner.” I hear the hopefulness in her voice. She really likes having her son here. I’m betting she’d love to have her other children here, too.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Mama. But I’m just learning the ropes at work. I’ve already lost a lot of time today.”

By the tone of his voice and his sincere look, I can tell he’s disappointed. I guess I didn’t really help with that, given the change in plans I forced this morning, all in the name of revenge. “We’d love to stay,” I interrupt, elbowing Ben gently in the ribs. “I’m already stuck with you all week. I guess they’ll be long days.”

He peers down at me for a moment, an unreadable look on his face.

And then he winks.





Chapter 14




BEN





“I’ll remind you of this the next time you mock me for taking her cooking home.” I give Reese’s ass a playful slap as she passes me on the porch, her arms laden with leftovers.

“I didn’t. I mocked you for being a mama’s boy, and that still stands,” she clarifies, sticking her tongue out at me.

Since my bold move earlier today, out in the grove, I’ve been itching to get my hands on her again. I’m seconds from chasing her down the steps when my mom appears with a box of her homemade jams and preserves. “These are for Reese,” she clarifies, shoving it into my chest. “Carry them for her, darling.”

“There’s enough for me, right?” I ask, counting out eight jars.

I get a smack upside the head for that—I don’t know how Mama, at five-foot-one, always manages to reach me, at six-foot-three, when she needs to do that.

With her arms free, she meets Reese at the bottom of the porch. “Don’t you be a stranger now, you here? We’d love to see you here again.” Pushing a strand of fallen hair off Reese’s face, she grasps the girl’s shoulders and leans in to lay a kiss on her cheek.

I’ve only ever seen Reese unnerved twice—the day we ran into each other in her office and yesterday, running into her ex. Now, though, she’s peering up at me with wide, questioning eyes, looking as stiff as a tree. That doesn’t dissuade my mom, who rubs her back as she adds, “And the ‘we’ includes Ben.”

Oh, hell. Why’d she have to go and say that? It’s true, but, still.

Caramel eyes flash toward me, a sudden wicked gleam in them. “Only if Ben lets me drive that dune buggy out next time.”

“Oh, Ben. You didn’t let her drive?” Mama scolds, a stern furrow in her brow.

Of course, Reese hams it up, her bottom lip pouting out just enough to look sad without seeming pathetic. “I begged, but he said something about women not belonging behind the wheel.”

My mouth drops as Reese scampers away with a howl of laughter, just as I get a second—gentle—smack upside the head. “I think you’ve met your match,” Mama murmurs, adding, “I like her.”

“That’s because she humored you by going through my baby album.”

“And I’ll be sure to dig up your awkward years for next time,” she retorts, beaming.

I shouldn’t let this go on. “She’s just a friend, Mama,” I remind her.

“Yes, I heard you before, son.” Her voice is light and airy. Dismissive.

“I’m serious. Don’t go booking any ceremonies with your pastor. Reese is the stepdaughter of my boss and if I get caught with her as anything more than just friends, my ass is gone from Warner. You don’t want me getting fired, do you? I’ll end up settling fishing disputes in Alaska.” I pull her frail body toward me, remembering a lifetime of car rides to football practice before the sun was up, when she was struggling to balance running this place and five kids in their teenage years. The woman has given me so much. “Then who’s gonna come out here and take care of you?” Sure as hell none of my brothers. They’ve all but washed their hands of this situation.