Five Ways to Fall (Ten Tiny Breaths, #4)(99)

Reaching out, I take her hand in mine. “I’m going to phone the insurance company today and get everything sorted out. Okay?”

She nods slowly. “I didn’t realize how expensive funerals have become.”

“Don’t worry about that, Mama. I’ve got money to cover that until the insurance pays out.”

“Oh, I can’t take your—”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

She peers up at me. “How’d I get so lucky to have a son like you?”

Getting up, I kiss her again. “Because you raised me to be like this. And because I made a lot of money taking care of naked women at Penny’s.”

“Oh, Ben.” She shakes her head but then starts to laugh softly.

“I’ll be out in the grove. Call my cell if you need anything.”

As I’m walking through the door and into the kitchen, Mama calls out, “I’d like Reese to come to the funeral. Do you think she’d come?”

I shake my head with resignation, knowing what the woman is up to. “I’m not sure, Mama. I’ll ask her.”



The familiar rumble and squeaky brakes of the farm truck comes to a stop behind the tractor. Assuming it’s Mama, I don’t bother turning around.

“Ben?” My name rolls off an unfamiliar female voice.

Turning on my heels, I watch a twenty-something-year-old girl with white-blond hair and mile-long legs slide out of the truck.

Slamming the heavy door shut, she walks forward, her hand out. “I’m Hayley Parker. I’m here to help pick.”

I accept it with a quick shake. “Yeah, right. Mama said you’d be by. Thanks for offering.”

Sidling up beside me, she slides her hands into the back pockets of her shorts as her blue eyes take in the tree in front of us. “I used to work on a citrus farm, so I have practice.”

“Perfect. Then I won’t make myself look like an ass by trying to train you.” She’s pretty, there’s no doubt about that, in an all-American-girl kind of way. I’ve had plenty of them.

Her smile does a flip into a full-lipped pout as she reaches out and lays a hand on my bicep. “I’m so sorry about your dad.”

With a nod, I turn back to pluck a few high tangerines.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” she asks, joining in to test and pull some fruit off the lower branches.

My hand freezes. Shit . . . That sounds like a setup. She doesn’t look at all familiar and I’m usually good with the faces of women I’ve screwed around with. I hazard a glance at her, to really look at her. How the hell did I miss the perky set of tits staring out at me from beneath that tight pink T-shirt before? Probably because of those damn legs.

“You were a senior when I started high school,” Hayley finally elaborates.

“Did we . . . know each other?” That’s my covert way of asking, “Did I nail you?” Because I’d be surprised. Fourteen-year-olds didn’t do it for me when I was seventeen.

“No. I mean, I knew who you were.” Her voice trails off as she blushes, her fingers stretched over multiple pieces of fruit as she strolls over to a crate to gently lay them in.

“I went to every single one of your games. I had the biggest crush on you back then.”

And . . . there it is.

I try to stifle my grin. She’s not the only one. I’m not trying to be a dick about it but when you open your locker to find folded love notes spilling out enough times, you can’t deny it. “You never said hi?” I tease.

She starts giggling as she moves past me, her arm brushing against mine. “No way! I was a scrawny little kid back then.”

And you’re not anymore. Is that what she’s hoping I’ll notice, wearing those tight black shorts? Point made.

“Can you please help me reach those ones?” she asks coyly, standing beneath a branch that extends out above her head. Her hands stretch up enough to lift her shirt, showing off a belly ring.

It instantly makes me thing of Reese. Reese doesn’t have a belly ring. Why doesn’t she have one? That seems to be the standard prerequisite before women move on to the more adventurous locations.

“Ben?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry.” Peeling my eyes away from her piercing, I give my head a shake and shift over to gently pull the branch down. There’re plenty of ripe fruit within her reach. There’s no need for this whole orchestrated move of hers, where she’s standing well within my personal space, facing me, a small smile touching her lips, her eyes on me more than the task at hand.

If the girl knows me, then she knows exactly what I’m like. I never bothered to hide that fact from anyone. I have a strong suspicion that if I wanted to get laid right now, this girl is as good as naked.

There’s only one problem.

She’s not Reese.

Fuck . . . what is happening to me?

Am I actually turning this down?

Yes.

Yes, I am.

“Listen, I’m going to take the truck and head back. I’ve got some things I need to take care of.” Her face crumbles with disappointment, obviously realizing that this eight-year campaign of hers isn’t going to come to an epic conclusion in the grove today. Just in case she decides to throw herself at me—because I’ve had that happen before—I let the branch snap back up in the air as I take several steps backward. “Mama will be back out with the truck soon.” I don’t wait for her answer before I’m climbing in the pickup and hauling ass back home.