Five Ways to Fall

by K. A. Tucker

  “You seem to have a problem,” I muse, replaying the old Cancún tape as I prop myself up on my elbows and, though self-conscious, let my legs fall apart for him. Ben’s a guy who truly appreciates a woman’s body. Not just a woman’s body. My body, it would seem. My plump ass, my soft curves. My biggest insecurities seem to be his biggest turn-ons.

  “You have no fucking idea.” The sudden tension in his square jaw makes him all the more handsome as he dives into the bed, finding a resting spot between my thighs, his elbows digging into the mattress on either side of my shoulders. The heat radiating from his large body will no doubt counter the chill in the air.

  “I haven’t stopped thinking about this all week.” One of his hands finds its way to my piercing to play with it gently, much more gently than I ever imagined him capable of. “Did you know I turned down a beauty queen?”

  A tightness instantly fills my stomach. “Remember that filter you need to work on?” What happens when he doesn’t turn the beauty queen down? Or the Twinkie? What will that do to me? To us? To this? We’ll lose this forever! That’s what will happen.

  I stare up at him and bite my tongue, terrified that my own filter is going to fail me. “Why?”

  Curious blue eyes take in my features. It’s impossible not to notice the speed and intensity of his heart beating against my chest. Leaning down to graze his lips against mine, he answers simply, “Wasn’t into her.”

  “Not into a beauty queen? Impossible.” I take a deep, calming breath. I could read so much into this. The fact that I want to read only one thing into it is telling. And terrifying. Why am I doing this to myself? I can’t pretend not to care when I do. That would be like throwing all of my emotions into a jar and sealing it. Anyone who knows me can predict the guaranteed explosion, the devastating aftermath.

  “I know. Shocking, isn’t it?” I catch the twinkle in his eye. It fades quickly. “What’s going on with you? You seem off.”

  “I saw Jared tonight,” I suddenly blurt out. I guess that’s as good a place as any to start.

  Ben’s hand, now cupping a breast, freezes. I catch the bob of his Adam’s apple with a hard swallow. “And?”

  “He told me that he loves me. He regrets ever breaking up and he wants me back.”

  Ben’s forehead dips to rest against mine. We lie like that, in complete silence, as the thunder rolls on outside, the storm still increasing in intensity. It’s either the slowest or the longest storm I’ve ever witnessed, most in Florida hitting hard and fast before moving on quickly.

  Finally, he heaves a sigh and lifts his head to look out the window, the light stubble dusting his jaw visible with the flashes of bright light. “I should have known this would happen,” he mumbles, his head shake almost indiscernible. “Serves me fucking right, doesn’t it?”

  I frown as he rolls off me, taking all his warmth and affection, and lands on his back. One hand slides behind his head. “Did I just miss something?”

  Ben’s soft laughter fills the dimly lit attic. “Talk about irony. You know, when Mama and Elsie started riding my ass about me having feelings for you, I kept brushing them off.” His head lolls to the side, sad eyes on mine. “Now that I’ve finally admitted to myself that I want more, I have no chance. Do I?”

  My heart feels like it just swelled two sizes. What? Did I just hear that right?

  Ben wants something more? I prop myself up on my elbows as a swirl of confusion and exhilaration rips through me like a tornado. But then . . . “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  He throws a hand up and states matter-of-factly, “You’re here to tell me that you’re getting back together with that asshat, right? That’s why you came up here tonight?”

  “If I were getting back together with Jared, do you think I’d be lying here, naked, with you?” I can’t help but sound annoyed with him.

  There’s a long pause as he processes my words. And then he shrugs as a sheepish smile curls his lip. “I dunno. Figured you were maybe giving me one last ride before you took it away?”

  “No, you . . . ugh!” I roll my eyes as I fall back onto the pillow. This couldn’t have possibly played out better. Not five minutes ago I was terrified of Ben seeing how I truly feel, and now he’s gone and confessed that it’s not one-sided.

  This changes everything.

  “So, you’re saying that you’re not getting back together with him?” he asks cautiously.

  “No!” Suddenly I feel like laughing as the tension slides out of my body, making way for the rash of butterflies that have taken flight.

  Beside me, I hear a quiet mutter of “Thank God” escape his lips, followed louder by, “Why not?”

  “Because of this jackass I picked up in Cancún. That’s why.” And there it is. Not exactly romantic, but Ben and I have never been about waxing poetic.

  “Seriously? Wait . . . I’m the jackass, right?”

  When I sigh with exasperation, he rolls onto me to assume his previous position, the wide grin back on his face. “So, what does this mean exactly?”

  I chew the inside of my mouth as I consider my next words. We’ve always been about blunt honesty. There’s no point changing now. “It means I want your womanizing mama’s-boy football-player butt all to myself and if I catch you with any Twinkies or beauty queens or anyone else, you’d better run far and fast because I will hunt you down.”

  His fingers brush wayward strands of hair off my face. “You know I’d never even consider this if I thought I could hurt you like that, right?”

  I can only manage a nod, but it’s enough. For all the faults that people could find in Ben, they’ll never find someone with a bigger, kinder heart then his.

  And just like that, something monumental has changed between us.

  He leans down and captures my mouth with his in a deep, needy kiss that has my head sinking into the pillow, on the cusp of gasping for air. I’m marginally aware as he reaches into a side table to grab a condom. Tearing it open and sliding it on with ease—one–handed, no less—he pushes into me smoothly, all while never breaking his kiss.

  My body is long past ready to accept him.

  All of him.

  Chapter 34

  BEN

  I don’t believe it.

  I, Ben Morris, have a girlfriend. At least, I think I do. Aside from the loose threats of bodily harm, we didn’t get into the specifics.

  I roll my head to study Reese’s still form as she takes long, slow breaths, her head nestled in the crook of my arm, her hot, naked body suctioned to mine. She’s like a sleeping dragon, so peaceful in slumber, so fiery when conscious. And I can’t wait for her to be conscious again.

  Tonight was . . . enlightening.

  I went from being a cocky ass that was sure he had her, to feeling my guts tumble out thinking she was going back to her ex, to utter fucking rapture as she laid it all out on me.

  Reese wants me and only me.

  If I had only known back then, when I watched that purple-haired girl slide off her chair in her drunken state . . . I smile to myself, unable to keep my arms from tightening around her little body.

  Josh’s words from earlier are sinking in. Letting my dad’s faults and errors dictate how I will live my life is the worst mistake I can make. And like it or not, it’s what I’ve been doing. Letting a girl like Reese get away because I’m afraid that I’ll be like my father will only lead to a miserable, lonely life. The ironic thing is, I don’t know that I would have appreciated that had she not already been here, within reach. Showing me what I have to lose.

  I lean into her, unable to keep myself from placing a soft kiss on her lips. She lets out a feeble groan in response but otherwise doesn’t stir. I’m tempted to wake her up, but I won’t.

  Tomorrow’s going to be a long day for all of us.

  That reminds me . . . I shift her off of me as gently as possible and then sit up, earning a small mewl of protest. Reaching down to the backpack leaning against the wall beside the bed,
I quietly unzip the outer pocket that Mason described when he called earlier. Inside sits the stack of envelopes, bundled tightly with an elastic band.

  Answers to the questions she’s been asking all these years.

  I don’t know what Jack and Mason are thinking, having me be the one to do this. Mason said they were planning on showing her everything tonight at dinner. That’s nuts. I don’t see how you deliver this kind of news over a plate of fries. Then again, I guess there’s probably no good time to lay this on a girl like Reese. Doing it when she’s up here, in a place that I can tell she loves, away from civilization, with me to rein her in, may be the best option.

  I just hope she sees it that way, too.

  Chapter 35

  REESE

  “I can’t believe how much you all look alike,” I say, taking in the row of Morris children standing and watching two little blond girls tease Quincy with a ball. The hound’s attention sways back and forth between the girls and the crowds of people as if she can’t decide if she’d rather have the ball or the scraps of food that are bound to fall from the small paper plates.

  “Yeah, we get that a lot.” I instinctively fold into Ben’s side as his arm settles over my shoulder, squeezing me tight to him.

  “But you’re the best-looking, of course,” I add wryly, beating him to it.

  “I am. Don’t forget it,” he teases with a chuckle and I fight the urge to kiss him. We’ve been very careful with all public displays of affection given Jack is floating around. At some point, we’re going to have to break the news to him that Ben and I are together and we’re far past just friends. Though I’ve decided that I’ll throw a fit and threaten to quit if Jack doesn’t let Ben stay at Warner, I honestly don’t know how the hell we’re going to work together. The guy can’t be in a room with me without touching me in some manner, and it doesn’t seem to matter who else is there.

  He proved that early this morning when he pinched my ass as I was meeting his entire family for the first time.

  I had wondered what being in a room with all five Morris children would be like, and whether Ben was an anomaly or part of a matching set. When I was finally allowed out of the attic and into the bustling sunroom, I found out quickly. The entire Morris clan plus affiliates were there, grazing off a table laden with pastries and fresh fruit and deliciously scented coffee.

  Laughing. Smiling. Filling this big, sad old house with what it so desperately craved again.

  A family.

  Within five minutes of introductions—leaving me red-faced after Ben’s brother Jake felt the need to comment on the disruptive noise over their room last night—I could see that their ties went much farther than physical similarities. The very idea that these five children and their mother haven’t been under this roof in eight years seems unfathomable. Any outsider watching wouldn’t buy it. Then again, they also probably wouldn’t believe that the man whose physical attributes can be seen in each and every one of his boys cast a gloom over their lives dark enough to make them abandon each other.

  The service for Ben’s father was held in an old white church ten miles away and was solemn, as expected. What wasn’t expected was the crowd of people in attendance. Though Joshua Senior may not have made many lasting friends, the Bernard and Morris families certainly have. Those people packed the church to pay their respects, over two hundred of them returning to the grove with the family for a late lunch.

  “What do you think’s going to happen now?”

  Ben frowns. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean tomorrow and next week, and next month. Look at everyone.” I gesture toward his family—Jake standing behind his girlfriend, his arms coiled around her belly; Rob and his wife laughing at their kids; Elsie and Josh linked arm-in-arm and smiling. Granted, I didn’t know them before, but they all look so content. And Wilma . . . The woman has been dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief all day. During the service, I know those tears were meant for the loss of her husband. But mostly, it wasn’t sadness I saw.

  It was gratitude, and relief.

  “This house is meant to be filled with noise. Wilma’s meant to see her children. Her grandchildren should be running around, laughing and swinging on that big old swing. Even Quincy’s in heaven right now!”

  Ben chuckles. “She’s going to end up in dog heaven soon. She’s too fat for all this excitement.”

  “But what happens after today?” I press. “Please tell me you guys have talked. Something has to change. For Wilma’s sake, for this grove’s sake . . .” A lump in my throat is forming, as I think about how sad and lonely Wilma will be once everyone’s gone. As much as I loved the grove before, now that I’ve seen it at its best—alive—I can’t bear to see it so quiet and empty again.

  Ben sighs. “I’m not sure yet, Reese. Everyone’s got a life somewhere else now. We’ll see what happens.”

  “You need to make it happen, Ben. At least for holidays and birthdays and . . .” A thought hits me. “Jake and Rita should get married here. You need to tell him that.”

  “Sure!” Ben’s face splits out in a wide grin as he cups one hand over his mouth and hollers, “Jake! Reese thinks you and Rita should have your wedding here!”

  “Ben!” I’m not fast enough shoving my fist into Ben’s ribs to cut off his words and, by the flat glare his brother gives him, Jake isn’t impressed by them. If Rita heard them, which I’m sure she did, she doesn’t let on, intent on keeping her focus on the two little girls.

  “Benjamin, would you stop harassing your brother,” Wilma’s stern voice calls. We turn to see her closing the distance, trailed by Jack and Mason. I instinctively shift away from my comfortable nook against Ben’s body at the same time that his arm slowly retracts from my shoulders, until just his hand is settled on my back.

  “Ben, Jack was just telling me how impressed he is with you at work,” Wilma explains, smiling up at her son, her face full of pride.

  “I proofread like a boss,” Ben mocks good-naturedly.

  “Though I don’t know why you bothered with law school, given you had this place to fall back on. It’s breathtaking here,” Jack offers, his hands lifting in gesture of our surroundings.

  “It is,” Ben agrees.

  “Maybe you and Mason can come with Reese another time. I’m expecting her up here quite a lot.”

  Good Lord, Wilma. Ben’s deep inhale next to me tells me he’s thinking the same thing I am.

  I think all of our eyes—Mason’s included—are locked on Jack, waiting for the reaction, wondering what it might be.

  Those gray eyes soften with a genuine smile as he dips his head, as if acknowledging something silently. Maybe he is. “We’ll gladly come visit with her sometime. I wish we could stay longer today, but we’ll be leaving shortly for Miami.” Turning to Wilma, he offers, “Again, we’re very sorry for your loss. If there’s anything we can do to help, please just let Ben know.”

  Wilma glances at Ben and me and winks as a woman calls her name from the front porch. “You already have. If you’ll excuse me, it sounds like I’m needed in the kitchen.” She reaches out to shake Jack and Mason’s hands. “Thank you for coming today.” With that, she turns and hurries to the house.

  “Well, Reese’s Pieces, I suppose we’ll see you by the end of the weekend, hey?” Jack says, a loving smile on his face.

  He steps forward, gripping my arms with his hands. “And remember, we’re always here for you.” Worry flitters through his eyes as he turns to level Ben with an unreadable look. “Take care of my girl this weekend.”

  “I will.”

  He slaps Ben’s shoulder once. “I know you will.”

  I feel the deep furrow in my brow as I watch them leave. “Okay, see that? Now Jack’s acting weird too. Don’t you think?”

  “Well . . .” Ben draws that out as he turns to settle a long, hard look on me. So long, it starts to make me squirm.

  “What?” I snap.

  Gritting his teeth, he gives a cu
rsory glance around the lawn. “I think I’ve shown my face long enough here.” Dropping his gaze to me again, he says, “Let’s go for a ride.”

  Chapter 36

  BEN

  “I love this time of day up here!” Reese yells over the roar of the engine as she kicks the dune buggy into fourth gear and swerves to avoid a pothole in the trail, the late-afternoon November sun beginning its descent over the horizon.

  “Can we not add to the funeral count this week?” I yell back, gripping the roll bar with white knuckles. The woman is a maniac behind the wheel. I don’t know how she hasn’t crashed her bike yet and I’m starting to think that I don’t want her on it anymore, because it’s only a matter of time before she does. The only reason I handed her the keys is because I knew she’d need to have a bit of fun before I drop a giant bomb on her head.

  “Left up here.” I point and hold on as she whips around the corner, setting my granddaddy’s old yellow truck in our sights.

  We come to a skidding stop, a dust cloud billowing out behind us and Reese’s radiant smile making me second-guess this plan. Maybe I should just pack her up and take her back to our attic room. But, no. That won’t change anything. She needs to know this and I’ve always been the “tear the Band-Aid off” kind of guy. If she ever found out that I’d sat on this kind of news instead of letting her know right away, she wouldn’t trust me again. The very idea of that makes my stomach tighten.

  I yank the keys out of the ignition—if she’s gonna run, it’ll have to be on foot—and climb out of the dune buggy. Picking up the walking stick, I go through the same process I’ve done for years, rattling the truck to scare off anything living in it.