Chapter 31
B en hops the fence in one swift motion, thrusting both of his legs over with a pommel-horse-like action. I’d seen this particular move countless times on the job, in Ben’s slacks, not the dirty sweats he wore working all day today in the mechanic’s shop.
I attempt the same motion, stalling at the top of the wobbly chain-link fence. Ben helps me down and I’m reminded of our partner agent relationship—often operating like a synchronized pair.
We cross the open grass to the treehouse built over a thick round stump that sits ten feet from the sliding screen door. I’d spent much of my childhood making mud pies to sell to my grandparents out of the open treehouse window, but it had been years since I’d stepped foot in here.
“This’ll be better,” he says. I follow him through the small treehouse back door.
It’s getting dark, but there’s a strong strip of light shining along the floorboards from the open window. We sit, maintaining a few feet of distance on two old pea green and sunflower yellow cushions, positioned on each side of an ice cream toy machine filled with dirt. I throw the orange crochet blanket bunched next to me over to Ben. The least I can do is offer more cushion.
“I’m sorry,” Ben says, turning his head to the side to face me. “I shouldn’t have assumed the rumors were true.” He remains calm and apologetic as he tries to make amends. “Lately you keep surprising me. Your meddling in the whole Corky and Bennette situation was unexpected, as if you wanted Bennette and I to break up so we could be together or something. I thought for a moment that riding into the mountains with that cop was just another one of your surprises. I was wrong.”
I nod, accepting his apology. Relief washes over me.
“But I have to ask. What about Evan?” Ben’s muscular arms fold across his knees.
“There’s no Evan. I bet he was mad when he heard that you and I kissed,” I say.
“You weren’t out with him that day?”
“I wasn’t out with Evan. Ever.” The words come out firm. Honest.
He nods. “This is a mess you know.” He gives me a comforting smile that pushes the shadows on his face upward. His brown skin is glowing in the dim light and his dimple takes on a deeper shadow.
“I know,” I say, trying to keep it lighthearted.
The night darkens quickly and the dark blue fade in the sky sets a mysterious tone that only the moonlight can create. It’s probably the hope I feel from this cold-toned romantic setting, but Ben’s eyes seem to sparkle like sunlight reflecting off a muddy lake and I can’t help but show a sheepish smile when I notice. I consider him the most stable thing in my life both here and in the future. How could I not be in love with those eyes when they keep me from losing my balance?
He stares at me with a soft, forgiving gaze, scooting in closer to me so we’re only a foot away from each other, and I want this second kiss more than I wanted the first.
“Now about us,” he says. My head remains turned toward him as he lowers his nose to meet mine.
“Hmm?” I squeak like a mouse with pent-up anticipation. He had to sense my infatuation with him. I was not very cool in this moment, and he was the face of control and confidence.
“So you aren’t interested in cops with mullets?” A hint of seriousness peeks through his sarcasm.
“I. Am. Not.”
“So then maybe you could be into your best friend’s brother?”
“I could be,” I tease.
“Do you want to be with me?” he asks. Any thought processing about the future that should have happened in this moment doesn’t. I only know one thing. My answer.
“Yes.”
I say it so softly it rolls off my tongue like summer pudding. In this moment, the buzz of uneasiness and crashing alternate universes should have hit me like a truck slamming into the median of a freeway, so that I’d consider the choice I was making. A choice that impacted more than just me and Ben. It impacted time—the alternate universe I would be choosing over the present. Instead, I feel calm, immersed in utter contentment and joy. I choose what I’ve always wanted. Ben.