Chapter 2
COOPER
“I ever tell you you’re a good kid, Coop?” Dad asked as I handed him his coffee. All three of the bays in the shop were full today, and I knew we had another car coming in this afternoon. Busy was good. No time to think when you were busy. “You wearing yours for a reason?”
I looked down at my coffee-stained overalls and smiled wryly. “Not mine. Someone ran into me on the way into the coffee shop.”
“Someone?” Dad asked, pacing over to the wall to check the schedule.
“Someone I’d never seen before.” I shrugged. “Dark hair. Bluest eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. Apparently has the coordination of a baby giraffe.”
“Bluest eyes you’ve ever seen in your life?” Dad turned back to me, raising an eyebrow and sipping his too-hot coffee.
I pretended to sip my own so I wouldn’t have to look at him, the tips of my ears heating. “Well, it’s true,” I mumbled.
“Get a name?” Dad asked.
“No. I probably should have, but he seemed to be in a hurry.”
I would’ve liked a name. Especially since he was taking my place as the new guy in town.
Also, he had been ridiculously beautiful. Only a blind man could’ve missed the shape of his mouth, the perfect nose, the high cheekbones, the reddish-golden hair flopped over his face, like he’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine or something.
“But you did have time to notice his eyes,” my dad pointed out, gesturing with his coffee. Shouldn’t have mentioned the eyes. I’d always had a weakness for pretty eyes, and Dad knew it.
I took a breath to object, but before I had to come up with something to say, the sound of familiar, tiny footsteps saved me.
“Coop!” Benji called out, rushing toward me. I barely had enough time to set my coffee aside and crouch down before he crashed into me, little arms wrapping around my neck and squeezing tight.
“You’re wet,” Benji added after a second, backing off and scrunching his nose up as he took in the mess of my overalls. I had a second set, and probably should’ve changed into them, but these ones weren’t covered in grease yet. It seemed a waste to wash them over a little coffee.
“I spilled,” I said. “Grownups do that, too, sometimes.”
His face twisted into the most horrified look a six-year-old was capable of making and I had to bite my lip to stop myself laughing at him.
Six-year-olds were entitled to experience the horror of knowing you’re never free from accidents that end in needing a change of clothes. Even if it was adorable.
“But it’s okay, see? No one got hurt and my overalls have been washed before and will be washed again. I’m being very brave about it.”
“Like me,” Benji said, grinning at me.
Yeah, like him. He was pretty much the bravest person I knew, given everything he’d been through.
I sat down with a groan I wished I could hide, leaning against the workbench behind me. I’d have to get to work in a minute, but Benji was here now. He wouldn’t be six forever. Nothing was forever. I didn’t want to lose a minute with him that he wanted to spend with me, if I could help it.
“So, what’s up?” I asked, reaching up to grab my coffee again. “Weren’t you helping Grandma with the garden today? I bet if you helped her pick lemons, she’d show you how to make lemonade.”
“Have to show you this,” Benji said, holding out his neon pink band-aid-wrapped pinkie.
“Aww,” I said, taking his little hand as gently as I could. “How’d that happen?”
“Grandma,” Benji said, looking over his shoulder at my mom, who’d been talking to Dad.
“She bite you?” I teased, looking up from his hand to his face. He looked so much like Laura. Same glittering eyes, same button nose. I’d gotten my dad’s nose, and I was secretly glad Benji hadn’t. There was too much of it for a little boy.
“Sat on me,” Benji said, deadly serious. I had to bite my tongue this time to stop myself smiling.
“You mean you put your hand under her again when she was trying to sit down?”
It was amazing the way his face could turn from cute little imp to world’s most innocent and perfect child in a split second. Mom swore I’d been the same, but I didn’t think my face could ever have been this expressive. My nose had never been this cute.
I reached out and booped his, a wave of tenderness welling up in my chest. I loved him so much. Even if teasing Mom was one of his favorite life activities. She said he got that from me, too.
She was probably right.
“Okay, okay,” I said. “Want me to kiss it better?”
Benji nodded enthusiastically, waving his hand in my face until I caught it again and pressed a kiss to it.
There was obviously nothing wrong with him.
I thought maybe he just liked the band-aids.
Would he like nail polish? His mom always had.
Her collection had taken up half the bathroom cabinet when we were teenagers.
Maybe he’d gotten his love of bright colors from her.
“Better?” I asked.
“Better,” Benji agreed, with the kind of serious nod only a kid his age could pull off.
He was perfect. No one could ever tell me otherwise.
“You’re smiling again,” Benji said, rolling his whole head along with his eyes, making it clear I was embarrassing him. Again. As usual.
“Because I love you,” I said. “And I love having you around. Whenever you walk into a room I feel like there’s a balloon blowing up in my chest and it’s all filled up with how much I love you and how happy you make me feel.”
Benji wrinkled his nose.
“Yeah, I know, sounds uncomfortable. You’ll understand one day, I hope. And then I’ll make faces at you about it,” I said, crossing my eyes and poking my tongue out. Benji burst into giggles, and put both hands on my raised knee to steady himself.
I wasn’t sure I was the best uncle—guardian?—a kid could ask for, but sometimes I felt like I was getting a thing or two right. I hoped it was enough.
I took one of his hands, more carefully than I probably needed to. I still remembered holding him in my arms, just a day old, and being so afraid I’d break him. “I love you, buddy. Don’t ever doubt that. Okay?”
“Okay,” Benji agreed. “Love you too, Coop.”
“That’s my boy,” I said, drawing him in for another hug, breathing in baby shampoo and the faint hint of chocolate that told me he’d convinced Mom to give him a cookie already this morning.
Just as well, probably. He wasn’t built like me, and he could use the calories. He never sat still for a minute.
“Okay, school time for you. Grandma’s gonna pick you up from school today, and I’ll get you after dance class, and then I think we should go for a burger. How’s that sound?”
Benji lit up like I’d promised him a unicorn. “Works for me,” he said, in exactly the tone Dad always did when he was agreeing with Mom.
I laughed as I stood, picking Benji up under the arms and twirling him around once before setting him down carefully next to Mom. “Be good, okay?”
“He’s an angel,” Mom said, standing on tiptoes to press a kiss to my cheek. “Keep an eye on your father for me.”
“Always,” I promised. “Better get to work before he fires me, though.”
Mom squeezed my arm and backed off, taking Benji’s hand. “You boys behave.”
I saluted her as she turned away, taking Benji with her. My heart clenched as I watched him go.
I hadn’t known you could love a person as much as I loved him. I didn’t know it could hurt when they left a room. I hadn’t really understood until…
“He worships you,” Dad said, moving to stand at my elbow as I watched Mom and Benji shrink in the distance. When they turned the corner, I turned back to the shop, sipping my coffee.
“As long as he knows I love him,” I said, mentally organizing tasks for the morning. Me moving back home couldn’t have come at a better time for Dad—the last mechanic who’d worked for him had just moved away when…
Well. When I suddenly didn’t have a home anymore, and I did have a little boy who needed one. It was better for us all to stick together, anyway.
“There are people on the ISS who know you love that kid,” Dad said, tossing his empty coffee cup across the room and into the trash can without even touching the rim.
I hoped that was true. Not… literally, but I hoped it was as obvious as Dad thought. Benji had lost enough. I wanted him to feel secure in what he had left.
I didn’t know what I’d do without my parents at thirty-one. I couldn’t imagine what I would’ve done at six. As far as I was concerned, Benji was the toughest person in the world. I wanted him to know he had support.
“Come on,” Dad said, patting me on the shoulder. “Time to get to work. You can tell me more about these blue eyes while you’re at it.”
Really shouldn’t have mentioned the eyes.