Brooke & Ben: Before Fate Interrupted (14 page)

Chapter
Fourteen

After smoothing
her hair and taking a heavy breath, Brooke opened the front door. Butterflies
launched in her stomach like firecrackers had just scared them into flight, a
knot of need tightening inside at the sight of his smile.

“You look beautiful.”

The simple
compliment made her blush, a rarity for her that only added to her state of
unease. She followed his eyes to her top, which was showing off just enough
cleavage to not give her dad a heart attack. Brooke was certain Ben wouldn’t
show up tonight, but had dressed for the part just the same.

She stepped to
the side and whispered out the corner of her mouth. “You’ve got some nerve,
Tony
.”

He stepped
inside, toying with the buttons at the end of the long, black sleeves hiding
his tattoos. “Nice place.”

She shut the
door, the smell of his cologne making her want to throw her arms around him and
smother him in kisses. “What are you thinking?” she whispered, trying not to
notice how handsome he looked in a dress shirt, jeans and black boots. “You’re
going to get us both killed.”

He craned his
neck to see down the hall into the kitchen, where the smell of garlic bread wafted
in the air. “I’m thinking I’m going to win you and your father over in the same
night.”

Her brow crumpled.
“You really do live in a dream world don’t you?”

“Ever since you
came around, sassafras.”

She stuck a
finger in his face. “You eat and then you leave. Got it?”

“Yes, mam.”

“And stop
calling me
sassafras
.” She took a
step back and scanned him from top to bottom. “That being said, you look very
nice.”

“Thanks,” he
said, pulling on his collar to let some heat escape. “Dress shirts make me
nervous. Hope I don’t screw it up tonight.”

“Oh, I doubt
that’s possible. Look how well you’ve done so far.” She rolled her eyes and
turned for the kitchen.

He grabbed her by
the wrist and twirled her into his arms while no one was looking. “How are
you?”

“Sore.”

“Sore? From
what?”

She tilted her
head and hit him with a dull expression.

His cocky grin
returned, sparking an explosion between her legs. He pulled her closer. “Next
time, I’ll be gentler.”

She struggled
against his powerful hold until he laid a wet kiss on her lips that tasted like
watermelon. Then, she melted into his arms, unable to stop it from happening in
her own damn house. She was a ruined woman, forced to raise the white flag no
matter how dire the consequences may be.

They pulled
apart and locked eyes.

Brooke tried
rounding up her breath. “I think I need a drink.”

“Me three.”

“Tony!”

They jumped apart
and Ben ran a hand over the brown fuzz blanketing his scalp. “Mr. Burnett, good
to see you again.”

“Please,” Will
said, shaking Ben’s hand, “call me Will.”

“Okay, Will.”

“Didn’t mean to
sneak up on you two lovebirds but dinner is just about ready.”

They followed
him into the kitchen, where it was about ten degrees hotter.

“Honey, you
remember Tony from last summer?” Will said, grabbing a beer from the fridge and
passing it to Ben.

“Last spring,”
Brooke corrected, pulse racing.

Laura glanced at
Ben while setting plates on the table in the adjoining dining room.
“Sweetheart, you know I can’t keep them all straight.”

“Mom!”

“Oops, did I say
that out loud?”

Will grinned at
Ben and poured a glass of red wine. “Don’t worry, her bark is worse than her bite,”
he said, handing Brooke the glass.

Laura set the
last plate down and came into the kitchen, extending her hand. “Hi Tony. I’m
just teasing. Brooke is a very sweet girl.” She shot Brooke a sideways glance.
“And she would never do anything to embarrass her family or jeopardize her
father’s career.”

Ben started to
say something and then decided against it.

“I hope you like
lasagna, Tony. It’s my grandmother’s famous recipe.”

“I do.”

“Good,” Laura
replied. “All right everyone, grab a seat.”

They pulled out
chairs and gathered around the long table, putting napkins in their laps. Laura
sat down and let out a long
I got it all
done in time
breath, proudly surveying the impressive spread.

“Looks great,
mom,” Brooke said, taking a sip of wine.

Will snared two
pieces of garlic bread and passed the plate to Brooke as an uncomfortable round
of silence settled in around them, making every little noise ten times louder.
They glanced at each other around the table with no one saying a word, the
clock ticking extra loudly away in the kitchen.

“So you golf,
Tony?” Will finally asked.

Ben took the
plate from Brooke and set a single slice on his plate before passing it to
Laura.

Will hesitated
with a piece of bread hovering in front of his mouth. “Tony?”

Ben tipped his
beer back and eventually realized everyone was staring at him. He swallowed and
started choking. “Golf? Oh yeah, I love golf.” He wiped his mouth and cleared
his throat. “Team Tiger all the way.”

Will stared
blankly at him for a moment. “I love Tiger.”

“Guy can do no
wrong,” Ben said, scooping up a square of lasagna.

“No wrong! And a
hell of a family man, too.” Will’s face turned grave. “We could all learn a
little something from Tiger.” He nodded confidently, meeting each one of their
perplexed stares.

“So, what do you
do again, Tony?” Laura asked.

This time Brooke
kicked Ben’s leg under the table.

“I own a
landscaping company.” He turned to Laura and pointed to his plate with his fork
as he chewed. “This is so good.”

“Oh, thank you,”
she replied, scooping some salad onto a separate plate.

Will’s face lit
up. “I actually considered landscaping before getting into sales, but that was
a long time ago. You push snow in the winter?”

“Oh yeah, hoping
for the heavy stuff this year.”

Will stuck a
forkful of lasagna into his mouth. “That makes one of us.”

“What kind of
sales are you in, Will?”

“Advertising,”
he answered, washing his food down with a cold drink of beer. “I sell
commercial air time for a small cluster of radio stations downtown.”

Ben nodded,
chewing with his mouth closed. “Sounds like a good gig.”

“Get free Bon
Jovi tickets every time they come to town.”

“Nice.”

Will’s eyes
roamed the table. “Too bad no one will ever go with me.”

“That’s because
we’re not a hundred, dad.”

“And neither am
I, Brooke.”

Brooke laughed
and turned to Ben. “You should see the pictures of him back in the eighties.”

“Hair down to
his butt,” Laura chuckled, taking a sip of her wine.

“Not true.”

“He had leather
pants!”

Will twisted in
his chair, looking uncomfortable. “Don’t listen to a word Brooke says, Tony.
She’s had more to drink than I have.”

“I have not.”

“We should go
golfing sometime, Tony.”

Ben’s eyes
snapped back to Will. “I’d love to.”

Will stopped
chewing. “Really?”

Brooke kicked Ben’s
leg again, this time harder, her pulse thudding in her neck.

“Yeah, that’d be
great.”

“Heat wave’s
supposed to hold out through the weekend. You have any plans on Saturday?”

Ben’s lips
pulled down at the corners. “I’m wide open on Saturday.”

Will brought a
fist down on the table that made the silverware jump. “Fantastic! I’ll set up a
tee time at Waveland.”

“Sweet.”

“Nine a.m. too
early?”

“Sounds
perfect.”

Will glanced at
the clock on the wall. “Holy crap, almost time for
Fringe
! Gotta go!”

“You haven’t
finished your dinner yet,” Laura objected.

“I will.” He whisked
his plate and beer into the living room.

“So rude,” Laura
whispered, angrily spearing a baby tomato with her fork.

“Why doesn’t he
just DVR it?” Ben asked.

Laura snorted.
“Cuz he can’t figure out how to do it.”

“Not true,” Will
hollered from the living room, where the sound of the TV suddenly came to life.
“I like to watch it live! I’m chatting with some friends online about it right
now.”

Brooke leaned
forward, horrified beyond all recognition. “He’s still using chat rooms?”

Ben couldn’t
help but laugh.

“You should see
him try staining the back deck sometime,” Laura sniped. “Now, that is
hilarious.”

“He means well,”
Brooke told Ben, pausing to give him a quick smile that she held onto a little
too long.

“The tree house
turned out okay,” Laura said unconvincingly. “Not counting the loose railing.” Laura
smiled at Brooke. “And it only took one broken arm to get it fixed.”

“You broke your
arm?” Ben asked.

Brooke nodded. “Luckily,
it wasn’t my
throwing
arm.”

A puzzled look
slipped across Ben’s face as a bout of tension-filled silence poured down from
above.

“You wanna see
it?”

Her looked down
to her arms, unsure which one he was supposed to be looking at. “Sure.”

“No, not my arm,
the tree house.”

“Just don’t go
inside,” Laura said into her wineglass. “Place is one giant wasp nest.”

“They’re
probably all dead by now,” Ben said with the confidence of a skilled
landscaper. “It’s been warm, but we had a few cold nights before Halloween.”

“Remember when
you got stung in the neck out there?” Laura asked.

“Don’t remind me,”
Brooke groaned, her body convulsing with a bout of the shivers. “I looked like
I had a giant goiter the next day.”

Laura giggled.
“I thought for sure your father was going to fall off that ladder after
spraying that nest. They were all over him.”

“I was in full
control of the situation,” Will hollered from the living room.

“Honey, what was
the name of that pest control company we ended up…”

“I don’t know,” he
sang out, politely cutting his wife off. “I’m talking to some guy named
Omniscient Jay right now, sweetie.”

They grew quiet,
the TV and rattling of forks against plates the only sound in the room.

Brooke set her
napkin on the table and turned to Ben. “You finished?”

“I am,” he said,
turning to Laura with a smile. “That was amazing. Thank you for having me.”

She smiled back.
“It was nice seeing you again, Tony.”

“We’ll be right
back,” Brooke said, getting up and leading Ben out the French doors that led to
the backyard.

“There’s
tiramisu in the kitchen when you’re done,” Laura said. “And watch out for
homeless people out there.”

Chapter
Fifteen

The flashlight
lit up a tall ash, its leaves a stunning canopy of red. Its thick trunk ran smack-dab
through the middle of a tiny yellow house with white trim. Shingles covered the
steeped roof while a bay window gazed out over the backyard.

“Holy shit,” Ben
mumbled. “That is awesome.”

“I always feel
guilty looking at it because Evy and I hardly used it.” Brooke ran the beam
down the ladder bolted to the trunk. “It was like one of those toys you get for
Christmas and by Valentine’s Day you’re totally over it.”

“I would’ve had
all of my friends over to spend the night in that thing.”

“We tried that.”
Brooke followed him over to the ladder, her heels sinking a little in the
browning grass. “My mom thought homeless people would break in and murder us in
our sleep.”

“Homeless
people? Why? Are there railroad tracks around here or something?”

“No, but there’s
a wooded area a couple blocks behind us where people like to set up transient
camps.” She wielded the flashlight to the black trees on the other side of the
privacy fence like she had just heard something. “City tried giving em the boot
but they just kept coming back.”

Ben swallowed
loudly in the silence that followed and looked back up to the tree house.
“Yeah, but it’s got a balcony!”

She swung the
light up onto a white trap door with brass hinges in the balcony floor. “One
day as a young child, I was up there coloring when I saw one of them stumble
out of the woods.”

Ben followed the
light like a cat. “One of who? The homeless people?”

She nodded. “Suddenly,
he stopped and looked up. Our eyes met but only for a moment.”

His Adam’s apple
bobbed one time. “Are you making this up?”

“Then he climbed
our fence and ran for the ladder.” Brooke inhaled a heavy lungful of air and spoke
faster. “I was all alone and could barely move but somehow, by the grace of God,
I managed to slam the trapdoor shut and lock it just in time. He pounded and
pounded while I hid under the desk and covered my ears.” She paused for another
breath and slowed way down. “Then he crept back into the woods and I never saw
him again.”

Ben looked into
the darkened tree line just beyond the fence. “You’re so full of shit.”

“Next day they
found all of the people in the homeless camp…dead.”

“No way.”

“They never knew
who did it…but I did.”

He looked up and
spoke in a nervous whisper. “Think there’s a homeless person up there right
now?”

Brooke jerked
the beam around and pointed. “Behind you!”

Ben jumped and
spun on his heels, raising his hands to defend himself. “Jesus Christ!” he
said, lowering his arms when he saw no one was there.

Brooke covered
her mouth and giggled wildly. “You should’ve seen your face!”

“Will you keep
it down? You’re going to draw them to our position.” He scanned the woods.

Brooke’s laughter
trickled to a finish. “
Position
? What’re
we in Vietnam?”

“Come on,” he
said, climbing the rungs.

Brooke shone the
light on his butt. “We should go back inside.”

“I have to see
the inside of this thing.”

She watched his
cheeks wiggle back and forth up the ladder, a needful desire quivering inside.
“Okay.”

He pushed
through the trapdoor and hoisted himself up onto the balcony. A firefly floated
between them, painting a green brushstroke across the night.

He stuck his
hand through the hole in the floor. “Come on.”

Brooke glanced
back to her parents’ house, the flashlight slicing through the darkness like a
lightsaber.

“Don’t be
scared; there aren’t any homeless people up here.” His eyebrows furrowed as he
thought about it. “Well, not until you get up here anyway.”

“You’re not
funny, and I’m not scared. I’m wearing heels.”

Ben looked over
his shoulder at the hobbit-like white door behind him. “I’m not going in there
alone,” he said, pressing the point.

A defeated sigh
snuck past her lips and she started climbing, swinging the light as she
carefully pulled herself up one rung at a time. He took her hand and helped her
through the opening, pulling her onto him and shutting off the light.

“I think I’ve
had too much wine to be climbing trees,” she panted, letting her eyes adjust to
the darkness. “Or not enough.”

He swung his
legs through the white railing and let his feet dangle ten feet above the
ground. They grew quiet and Ben pulled out a smoke. The flame splashed a
romantic glow over his face that made her eyes glitter with heat. He exhaled a
cloud of smoke up into the stars. “Another nice night.”

Brooke looked up
into the black sky where specks of light twinkled like far-off jewels. But the
night’s bedazzled luster wasn’t enough to hold her attention for long. She
turned back to Ben and his strong profile, unable to keep from staring even
though she could barely make out his features in the dark. “You want to go
inside?”

He slipped the
lighter into his pocket and looked over his shoulder. “Ladies first.”

“I’m not going
first.”

Her abrupt
horror brought laughter to his lips. “Thought you weren’t scared.”

“I’m not.”

“There could be
a deranged lunatic in there,” he whispered.

“The only
deranged lunatic around here is sitting inside watching
Fringe
.”

He smiled at
her, his teeth glowing in the moonlight. “That’s better than what I thought you
were going to say.”

“If you go
golfing with my dad I’ll add you to the deranged mix.”

“Why? He seems
like a fun guy to hit the links with.”

“
Why?
Because he’ll see your tattoos and
know you’re not
Tony
!”

“It’ll be chilly
enough to get away with wearing a light jacket.”

“Have you lost
your mind?”

“You’re over
thinking this, Brooke.”

“Am I,
Ben
?” She snatched the flashlight from
him and got up, careful not to bump her head on any branches. “I can’t believe
you golf anyway.”

“Why do you say
that?”

“Because most tattooed
guys don’t golf. They jump stuff on motorcycles and play in bands.”

“That is racial
profiling and that hurts.” Ben watched her open the white door with a small
window in it. He flicked the cigarette to the ground and followed her inside,
ducking as he passed through the doorway. His eyes followed the beam of light around
the cozy room, a window in every wall.

He pointed to
the corner of the ceiling. “Wasp!”

She screamed and
followed his finger with the light. “You jerk!” she hissed, wielding the flashlight
around to his face. “That is not funny.”

He watched her
with an impish grin on his lips. “You should’ve seen your face.”

“Ha ha.”

His eyes swept
the miniature house. “Wow, this place is amazing.”

“This place
always freaked me out.” She sank into a red bean bag chair on the floor.

Hunched over,
Ben studied a small table with a stool on each side. “Man, your dad did a great
job on this. He could rent this place out.”

Brooke turned
off the flashlight and pulled her knees up to her chest. “I feel so bad for
never spending time out here.” She snorted. “We wanted a dollhouse and got a
tree house instead.”

Ben sat down in
a purple bean bag chair next to her and let his legs spill out the front door
onto the balcony. He wiggled his boots back and forth, staring up at the
ceiling. “It even has a skylight!”

“Yeah, he went
all in on this place.”

“He really did.”
A short time later, her silence drew his eyes. “What?”

“Nothing.” She looked
away and scooted closer.

“You’ve got a
great family. I’m glad I came.”

She flashed him
a pretty smile and ran her fingers over the thin blue carpeting. “What about
you? Do your parents live here?”

“My mom does,
but my dad split when I was young.”

An owl cried out
for attention off in the distance. Silence was its only answer.

“How young?”

“Four.”

“That’s
horrible.”

An indifferent
shrug lifted his broad shoulders. “Don’t even remember him, so…” He found her
eyes through the gloom. “Can’t miss something you never had.”

“Any brothers or
sisters?”

“Nope, just me and
my mom for the most part.”

“What does your
mom do?”

“She’s a
receptionist at an insurance company on the west side.” He gazed out the
skylight and snorted. “Part-time church lady on the weekends.”

Brooke laughed a
little. “Really?”

“Oh yeah, you
won’t find wine and beer at our holiday dinners. More like ten minute prayers
and goblets of holy water.”

“That’s not
true.”

“You’d be
surprised.”

They grew quiet,
sharing a moment of comfortable silence. A complacent sigh rolled from Brooke
as she gazed out the skylight to the stars above. Her hand brushed against his
in the moonlight slipping through.

His eyes lowered
to his hand.

“Sorry,” she
said.

“No, you’re
not.”

Her eyes
thinned. “God, you’re cocky.’

He cradled her
cheek with his palm, the darkness diminishing as their night vision set in.
“You’re so damn beautiful.”

“Stop.”

“Stop what?”

Brooke leaned
forward and kissed him, softly at first. She pulled back and grimaced. “Will
you please stop doing that?”

He laughed. “Me?
You did it.”

She released an
irritable sigh and turned away from those full lips of his before she could do
anything else she would later regret.

“Hey,” he
whispered.

She turned to
him and he laid a wet kiss on her lips that tasted like a slice of heaven. Her
body went limp with his touch, unable to repel his advances with any show of
force. Total Jell-O. He kissed her harder and she responded in kind, cradling
his scruff in her hands and pressing against him with reckless abandon.

The floor
creaked beneath them with the stars watching through the skylight above like
celestial voyeurs hiding in the night.His fingers ran through her hair, their
tongues twisting in their mouths.

They separated
but their eyes remained locked, searching each other in the pale moonlight.

Ben let her hair
fall back down. “Thank you for bringing me out here.”

Though she tried
not to, she smiled warmly back at him.

“I mean, you
must really like me to bring me out here.”

Her smile ran
for the hills. “What?”

“Your most
cherished childhood memory.” She could see his shit-eating grin through the
gloom. “I knew you’d come around sooner or later, freckles.”

She smacked his
bicep, which was like slapping a cinderblock wall. “You’re such a jerk!”

“Listen, I know
that you know…”

“Shut up,” she
said, balling his shirt into her fist and pulling him to her needy lips.

He wrapped her
in his arms and squeezed, tasting her on his lips like it was the first time
all over again. Her fingers ran over his face and arms as her mouth melted with
his.

She pulled back
again, chest rising and falling as she chased her breath. She stared into his
eyes, surprised and unnerved by the way her body and mind were revolting
against her. “I hate to admit it but, I think you might…”

“Hi guys.”

Brooke screamed
bloody murder, scrambling away from the door on her backside like a crab. She
crashed into the desk she and Evy used to draw pictures of flowers and sparkly
cupcakes at. Her chest rose and fell. “Tasha?”

Tasha crouched
in the doorway and rested on her high heels. “Sorry to interrupt but I need to
borrow your red leather jacket.”

Brooke
straightened her shirt, her face still twisted with terror. “God Tash, you
scared the crap out of me! I thought you were my dad!”

“Sorry.”

Ben let out a
pent-up breath. “I thought you were a homeless person.”

Tasha looked
from Brooke to Ben, an endearing twinkle in her eyes. “You two are just the
sweetest thing I’ve ever seen. I felt like I was in a romance novel just then.”

Brooke crawled
closer. “What! How long were you out there?”