Brooke & Ben: Before Fate Interrupted (19 page)

“And how are we
going to do that?”

His face
brightened as an idea struck. “We pay em off.”

She cocked her
head to one side. “This is serious, Ben.”

“Okay then, we
drug them. This time for real.”

Brooke flattened
her lips.

“Sorry, I can’t
think right now.” His eyes floated out a dark living room window. “I seriously
thought you were going to bail.”

“Yeah well, I’m not
some star-struck heroine from a sappy romance novel. I know when to cut my
losses.” Brooke buried her face in her hands, embarrassment short-circuiting
her system. She was on a roll all right and couldn’t help but wonder what would
happen next. Car problem? Job loss? Gain twenty pounds from one too many
consoling cupcakes? Any one of those things could throw a serious wrench into
an already fragile situation.

“You want a
beer?”

She pulled her
face from her hands. “Yes!”

Chapter
Nineteen

Kit Kat and Twix
wrappers littered the coffee table, strewn between empty beer bottles like
fallen snowflakes. Like her mom and older sister, sweets were her go-to during
a crisis.

“That’s the plan
anyway,” Ben said, pulling her from her thoughts.

She swallowed
and dropped another wrapper to the table. “It’s a good one. You’ll get your own
shop someday; I feel it in my gut.”

He shifted on
the couch next to her. “This town’s big enough to support more tattoo studios,
so it wouldn’t be like I’d be taking food off Janna’s table. There’s plenty to
go around.”

She couldn’t
tell if he was trying to convince her or himself. “The lady from Saints?”

He nodded,
waxing a thumb back and forth across a cold bottle of Ranger IPA. “I just need
to save up a little more money.”

Brooke adjusted
the gym shorts running past her knees he had loaned her. “Like how much more?”
She cringed as soon as the words slipped out of her mouth. It was none of her
business, but that had never stopped her before.

“Well, I had
about ninety grand until I broke down and bought my bike last summer, which ran
me around twenty-five large with the trailer and gear and everything, but I
figure in another year – two tops – I’ll be good to go.”

“By yourself?”

He shrugged his
broad shoulders and she was glad he hadn’t put a shirt on. “I’m open to
investors,” he said. “Why? You want in?”

She snorted. “Do
you take high heels?”

“What about
you?”

She stared at
him through sleepy eyes. “What about me?”

“What do you
want to do? What’s your goal in life?”

Her eyes swept
across the living room. She hadn’t thought about it in awhile and that was half
the problem. “I don’t know. People always ask that and it’s impossible to
answer because everything I
want
to
do is a pipedream. So the question is more like: what will I
settle
for doing?”

Ben laughed. “You
really are a glass is half full kinda gal, you know that?”

“It’s true
though! I’ve always wanted to own my own bakery, but will I end up owning my
own bakery? Well, seeing as how I’ve got about eight hundred dollars in my
savings and my parents are in more debt than I am, I’d say there’s about as much
a chance of that happening as there is of me falling for the right guy.”

Ben furrowed his
brow.

“Sorry, sweetie,”
she said, patting his hand, “but I don’t have the best track record in the
world.”

“Why? What
happened?”

She sighed.
“Last guy I dated brought his ex-girlfriend over to my old apartment one
night.”

“What?” Ben said
with a laugh. “Why in the hell would he do that?”

“Somehow he got
the idea I was into sharing, which I am most definitely not. Just ask my
sister. She knew better than to mess with my Powerpuff Girls.”

His smile lit up
the room. “So what happened?”

“I told him to
get lost and I assume they went back to his place until they realized why they
had broken up to begin with.”

He stared at her
with that look in his eye, a little smile dimpling the corners of his mouth.
“I’m glad you stayed.”

“I would’ve gone
to Evy’s but Richie’s staying there until his
bathroom gets remodeled
.” She used her fingers to make quotations,
suspect of anything Richie says.

“I take it
you’re not a big fan of his.”

An indifferent
shrug made the retro
Dukes of Hazzard
t-shirt he had given her rise and fall. “Richie is an a-hole. My dad always
tries getting him to go golfing with him and he will never go.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”
Brooke pinched her eyes together. “I just think there’s something he doesn’t
want my dad finding out about him.”

“Like what?”

“Like he’s into
human trafficking. My dad can sniff that kind of stuff out.”

Ben looked down
to the bottle in his hands and shook his head.

“What?”

“That guy’s
crazy because your dad is awesome.”

“He has his
moments.”

“I think if we
had met under
different
circumstances, your dad and I would’ve really hit it off.”

She surveyed his
tattoos and earrings. “I seriously doubt it.”

His jaw dropped.
“We were going to go bowling tomorrow!”

“Well, that ship
has sailed, Tiny Tim. And no offense, but I doubt he’d ever be big on me dating
a tattoo artist, let alone one that took advantage of me at a Halloween party.”

“I didn’t take
advantage of you!” he scowled. “You took advantage of me.”

“Yeah, but he
doesn’t need to know that, silly.”

He paused, his
eyebrows drawing together. “What if I got a real job.”

Brooke tilted
her head to the side. “Like what?”

He shrugged.
“Rock station DJ or male stripper.”

She laughed and
rubbed his arm. “Sweetie, you just keep on doing what you do best and that’s
being you. Minute you start being somebody else is the minute I pull up stakes
and hit the trail.”

They grew still.

Concern rippled across
her face as she pictured her dad not coming to her wedding. The fleeting
thought, straight out of left field, fled as fast as it had come.

“He’ll come
around,” Ben said, somehow reading her mind. “Your mom, too.”

She kissed his
hand.

“In the
meantime,” he continued, sitting up straighter and making the monster in his
sweats noticeably shift down his leg, “you’re welcome to stay here as long as
you like. Mi casa su casa.”

“Thank you.”

“We just need a
little more time to figure out a way for me to win your dad over.”

Brooke frowned. “No,
we don’t. And why do even you care so much?”

He tore his eyes
from hers. “I just do.”

“I mean, it’s
not like we’re getting married or anything. We’re just blowing off some steam.”

“Is that what
you call this?”

She shrugged
loosely. “Listen, you and I are in the wrong place at the wrong time so there’s
no need for you to be worrying about anything concerning my father. He and I
will be just fine.”

Ben shrunk a
little with the comment. “I’m just saying I would like to try.”

“Well forget it,
because you don’t know my father. One minute he’s the class clown, the next the
clown killer.”

“Whatever.”

She stretched
her arms back and yawned, glancing at a large wall clock. “How’d it get so
late?”

“It’s not that
late.”

“I’m tired.”

“I’m not.”

“Well, I’ve got
another long day tomorrow,
Tattoo
. I
should probably get some sleep.”

“
Tattoo
?”

“Short guy from
Fantasy Island
? Don’t act like you don’t
know because I know you’re at least ten years older than me.” She got up and
held out her hand. “You coming?”

He looked at the
TV for a second and then took her hand, following her into the bedroom where
they kissed and touched until succumbing to exhaustion’s call. Brooke slept
soundly, wrapped in Ben’s protective arms until the break of dawn.

***

Brooke sipped
the last of the coffee the next morning, quietly scanning Ben’s apartment
before she had to go to work. He had left an hour ago and the place was all hers.
She marveled at the clean, modern look. Back on All Hallows’ Eve when they had
first met, Pottery Barn and IKEA were the last things she would have imagined. Walmart
and Goodwill were more like it. A small dose of guilt shot through her, her
mother’s advice about books and covers echoing inside her skull. She smiled and
took another sip, glad she was wrong.

A loud rapping
at the door made her jump. Deep down, she knew it was her father. It wasn’t so
much her gut telling her this as it was the knock itself. Loud. Impatient. The
knock of an angry father, come to drag his little girl from the wretched lot
she had fallen in with on the streets. Come to take her home where she belonged.

The knock came
again, louder, jolting Brooke back to reality. She set the Superman mug down
and crept to the door, an image of Ben’s ex-girlfriend – whoever the hell that
may be – skidded through her mind. Maybe it wasn’t Will after all. Maybe Ben’s
ex had gotten wind of Brooke’s presence, like a mother wolf when another female
invades her pack in the dead of night. Brooke stood on her tippy toes and
peered through the peephole, holding her breath. She released it, dropped back
onto her heels and opened the door.

“What are you
doing here?”

Tasha sashayed
inside, one pink high heel strutting in front of the other, dirty blond hair
running to the small of her back. “I stopped at your parents’ house.” She
stopped in the middle of the living room to survey the place, a red leather
coat draped over her arm. “I knew I’d find you here so I got the address from
Mandy. Had to pry it out of her with a ten dollar bill.”

Brooke shut the
door and locked it. “Have you ever thought about becoming a detective?”

“Actually, I
have. I think it was when I fucked up the third table’s order in a row last
night and the mom referred to me as a Facebook drone.”

Brooke started
to smile, imagining Tasha waiting tables in between Facebook and Twitter posts
on her phone. It wasn’t far off the mark.

 
Tasha sighed. “Started thinking what I
wouldn’t give to be one of them bad ass bitches on
CSI: Miami
. You ever watch that show?”

Brooke came
around for a better look at Tasha’s face. “Please don’t tell anyone I’m here.”

Tasha’s gaze roamed
the place, sliding over the slim couch and dark wood framing the coffee table
and TV stand. “This place is so cute!” She wrinkled her nose. “Is he gay?”

“Who?”

“Roger,” she
laughed, pointing to the wall. “He even has a ladder bookcase.” She covered her
mouth. “With plants!”

“He’s not gay,
trust me. And his name is
Ben
, not
Roger.”

“Roger, Dodger,
who gives a shit.” Tasha plopped down heavily onto the couch and crossed her
denim covered legs, admiring her shoe as she swung it back and forth through
the air. “Is he here?”

“He already left
for work.”

“So was Mandy right?”

Brooke sat down
next to her and looked at her watch. “About what?”

 
“His big giant cock. Is it really that big?”
She bent closer. “Did it hurt?”

Brooke fought
the flush spreading in her cheeks. “Why are we talking about this again?”

“Because that’s
what we do. Remember?” She paused for a moment. “Do you think he uses a penis
pump? How do those things even work?”

“Actually, Tash,
I was just heading to work.”

“Well, I’m glad
I caught you then.”

“Why? What’s
up?”

Her face
sobered. “Nothing is up! That’s my problem.”

The tree house
flashed through Brooke’s mind. “That’s right, you were going to Buffalo Wild
Wings with Mandy.”

“Here’s your
coat back.” She set it between them on the couch.

“What happened?”

Tasha glumly
shook her head, letting her eyes glaze over. “I pulled the biggest slob out of there
I could find. Ya know, a guy who – under normal circumstances – would shoot his
load as soon as I touched his wiener.”

“You didn’t.”

“Oh, I did. And
guess what.”

“What?”

“The fat fuck
couldn’t get it up.”

“Probably
because he was nervous as hell being with someone like you. It was a shock to
his system.”

Tasha got up and
went to a window, staring forlornly out it for a little while. “Perhaps.”

“
Perhaps
you’re trying too hard.”

She turned back
to Brooke. “Mandy wants you to move back in.”

Brooke stared
dully at her. “Are you serious?”

Tasha looked
around at Ben’s stuff. “But if this guy is going to be around you might as well
forget it.”

“What’d she
say?”

“I think she
just realizes it was all a big misunderstanding, and she didn’t like Ben that
much anyway.” She picked up a picture of Ben on his bike overlooking
Saylorville lake and set it back on the ladder shelf. “She’s just glad you
stopped her from giving her virginity to this douche.”

“I knew it,”
Brooke said under her breath.