Five Ways to Fall (Ten Tiny Breaths, #4)(47)

A slow, wicked smile creeps over my dad’s face. “Earning your way to the top the hard way, Ben?” he slurs.

“Joshua!” My mother’s sharp, surprised cry pulls his attention away from us.

“My dishes are in the barn, Wilma,” he mutters almost incoherently, hanging his head as he turns and picks his path up to the house, staggering all the way up the stairs to disappear inside.

My mama’s face is a mask of sorrow and embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, Reese. Ben and Joshua just . . . He . . . he must have had a bad day.” Mama stumbles over a suitable apology, though nothing about that explanation would make sense to anyone with half a brain. I can’t keep the snort from escaping. Yeah. Real bad day, staring at his tools and nursing a bottle of whiskey all while hating the world and this “shitty life” that was handed to him. Mama waves us off and follows him inside, but not without first mouthing, “I love you,” my way.

It’s not until we’re both seated in my Jetta and I’ve cranked the engine that Reese speaks up. “So, your father’s charming.”

I wondered how she’d respond to that display. “I warned you, didn’t I?”

She seems to ponder that for a moment. “Annabelle’s usually four gin martinis in by dinnertime. But she doesn’t have a ‘problem,’ ” she mock-clarifies, making air quotes with her fingers. After a pause, “How’d he lose his arm?”

“Accident in his wood shop about nine years ago.” I really don’t want to get into this with Reese. She’s got her own family issues and if I throw mine into the mix, we’ll become all about feelings instead of fun.

She lets out a low whistle. “A carpenter losing his arm? That’s a raw deal.”

“Yeah.” I throw my car into first gear and have us heading down the driveway, the oaks I used to climb as a child—when I was already completely disillusioned about my parents’ marriage—providing us with cover along the way. “He definitely took it hard.”



“I can’t believe you’re letting me take it all without even a blow job.” Reese’s eyes brighten as she surveys the contents once again, this time standing on her front porch.

“How about we don’t joke about shit like that with Jack in the house, okay?” His Escalade is in the driveway, so I know he’s home. That’s the last thing I need him to hear. Plus Reese just saying the words “blow job” is killing me right now. “And consider it fair trade for all the hours you’re going to be putting in with me this week.”

“Do you know who loves raspberry jam?” One eyebrow arches expectantly, holding up a red jar. “Mason.”

I chuckle, already seeing where her evil little mind is moving. “Let me guess . . .”

“Maybe I’ll eat it right out of the jar in front of him. With a spoon.” She grins viciously, and I have to stifle my loud laughter.

“He’s giving it to your best friend now, so maybe you two should try to get along.”

She cringes. “Right, I forgot about that. Thanks for reminding me . . . again.”

Wary of standing here any longer, I back up a few steps. “I’d better get out of here before Jack fires me.” If I don’t, I’m liable to do something stupid. Like kiss her, because that’s all I’ve been thinking about doing the entire ride home. Jeez, I need to get laid. It’s been weeks. That’s a new record for me.

“Not with this, he won’t.” Reese waves a tinfoil package of meatloaf leftovers in my face. “In fact, he may even sell me to you if he thinks it’ll get him more of Wilma’s home cooking because unless Mason’s cooking, the only thing that gets used around here is the microwave.”

“Mason cooks for you guys?”

She rolls her eyes. “Sometimes. Tofu and seaweed and . . .” Her face scrunches up with displeasure. “I don’t eat it.” Reaching behind her to grab the door handle, she stalls a bit and then offers, “Thanks for coming with me to shoot my ex and his wife today.”

“Anytime.”

“I had fun today.” And then she frowns as if she’s surprised by that realization.

“It was fun,” I admit with a smile. “I can’t remember the last time I spent an entire day with a woman without getting laid. Hell, even with sex, I don’t think I’ve ever spent an entire day with a woman.”

She shakes her head at me but there’s a smile at the end of it. “Where are you going now?”

“To a cold shower,” I admit, taking several reluctant steps backward, away from her. I’ve never been so excited to jerk off in my life. “See you tomorrow morning?”

With a wink and a fake lusty voice she offers, “Think of me,” before cracking the door and stepping through.

And . . . I’m rock hard again.

Like I wasn’t already going to be thinking about her.





Chapter 15




REESE





“I come bearing homemade preserves from the Indian River grove district.” I drop the box down on the counter in front of Jack.

Newspaper in one hand, chopsticks in the other, he first glances at the crate and then up over his bifocals at me. “You paid for those, right?”