Hopelessly Broken (A New Adult romance)

by Ward, Tamryn

  “Why is Aeron coming to stay with us, Jenny?” her brother asked again and again as they slipped and slid down the quiet, empty sidewalk.

  Their footsteps crunched in the crispy snow, the sound echoing off the shabby little 1920’s bungalows lining the narrow street. The air was bitter cold, cutting through her coat like a blade. She hunched her shoulders against the wind and tightened her grip on Logan’s hand. “Because…he’s having some repairs done on his house, and he can’t live there until the workers are finished.”

  “Oh. I’m glad. So does this mean you like him now, Jenny? You wouldn’t let a stranger live with us, no matter what. So he must be your friend now, right?”

  Friend? After what he’d just agreed to do for her and Logan? Best friend was more like it.

  “Yes, Logan. He’s my friend now.”

  He gave a whoop of joy, accompanied by a series of hops and bounces. “I knew you’d like him if you gave him a chance. He’s really nice. And funny. When I’m with him I kind of forget about everything, about all the sad stuff. I…feel a little bad--”

  “Oh, Logan.” Jenn stopped to squat before her little brother. Sometimes it shocked her how sensitive and intuitive her little brother could be at such a young age. She knew it was the grief that had forced him to grow up so quickly. A part of her burned, deep inside, every time she saw that side of him, the man that was emerging far too soon.

  It was her fault. All of it. Which was why she was fighting so hard to keep him in his home, the only one he’d ever known.

  She took his little hands in hers. “You’re just a kid. Kids should be happy. All the time. They should have fun, running and playing and laughing all day. If there was any way, I would make sure you never felt sad again. Never.”

  “But if I didn’t feel sad, would I know how good it is to feel happy?” he asked.

  She had no answer to his question.

  * * * * *

  The knock came at a little after ten o’clock. It was dark outside, frigid cold. A typical Michigan January night. The porch light flickered, illuminating the tiny snowflakes blowing around Aeron’s head, the glow making him look almost inhuman. Angelic.

  She opened the door, inviting him, his dog, and a breath-stealing gust of arctic wind inside. “Hi.” She stepped aside to push the door closed behind him.

  His arms were loaded with a huge laundry basket, heaped to the top with clothes. The little bug-eyed Chihuahua sat on top, giving her some slant-eyes. He said, “Sorry it took so long. I had a few things to take care of first.”

  “It’s okay.” Her gaze hopping back and forth from the basket to his face, she jerked her head toward the staircase. “I have a spare bedroom for you to use.”

  “Great.”

  The entire climb up the steps, she felt his gaze on her, warming her skin and making it tingle. At the top, she waved an arm, twisting to press her index finger to her lips. “Logan’s sleeping. Your room is this way,” she whispered.

  He nodded.

  The dog made a little yap sound and leapt from the basket.

  “Cojack!” Aeron whisper-shouted.

  Cojack dove through the crack between Logan’s ajar door and the frame.

  “That’s Logan’s room.” She waved again, motioning him toward the spare bedroom. “I’ll get him in a second.”

  “Sorry. He’s very fond of your brother. I think Cojack likes Logan more than me.”

  “That’s fine. But, no offense, when this is done, Cojack must go back home with you.” She stepped into the spare room and flipped on the light.

  “Deal.” Aeron followed her in, glanced around the room then brushed past her to drop the basket onto the bed.

  “There’s only one bathroom up here. Sorry. We’re going to have to share.”

  “No problem.” He indicated the basket with a thumb over his shoulder. “I brought my own towels and toiletries.”

  “Thanks again for agreeing to do this. I…” She swallowed the little sob that had bubbled up from her belly. “Things have been so hard for us both, but especially for Logan. If the state took him away from me…I…I don’t know how he would deal with it.”

  Aeron’s smile was soft, gentle, utterly charming—and dangerous. “It’s okay. I’m glad to help.” He stepped forward once, twice, moving within reach. Jenn’s heart started hopping around in her chest like a caged rabbit. His hands lifted from his sides. He jerked around and started pulling clothes from the basket. “I…I’d better get unpacked, in case, you know.” His voice was chilly, clipped.

  It was such a quick change in mood, she stood stunned for a handful of seconds. “Sssure.” She backed out of the room, doorknob in her hand. Before she shut the door, she said, “If you’re hungry, there’s plenty of food in the kitchen. Help yourself.”

  “Thanks,” he said to the wall. Or maybe it was the bed. Either way, he didn’t say it to her.

  Bewildered and unsettled, she went down to the living room. Had it been her imagination, or had he intentionally been kind of cold toward her all of a sudden? Why?

  She grabbed her book, checked all the doors and windows to make sure everything was locked then headed upstairs. Remembering Cojack, she pushed Logan’s door open enough to squeeze through and tiptoed to his bed. Cojack had made himself comfy in Logan’s bed, his little dog body curled up against Logan’s little boy one. She reached for him, but Logan rolled over, flopped an arm over the dog and smiled.

  “Can he sleep with me tonight? Please?” he begged.

  “You’re supposed to be asleep.”

  “I will be. I promise. I sleep better with Cojack.”

  “Of course you do,” she said on a chuckle. As his wide little-boy eyes blinked in the darkness, she shook her head. Who could tell this kid no? Who? “Fine. But you’d better get to sleep pronto. If I come back and find you awake, I’ll take him away.”

  “I promise.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “See? I’m almost asleep already.”

  Sure he was. As almost asleep as she was. With her book hugged to her chest, she tiptoed back out, pulled the door closed and turned around.

  The bathroom door swung open, and Aeron ambled out, wearing a snug tank shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He gave her a little nod.

  Her gaze locked on his broad chest. Her face warmed to the temperature of a steam iron. “Um…good night,” she sputtered.

  “G’night,” he grumbled and shut himself in his room.

  Realizing she’d been standing in that same spot, staring at his door, she shook herself out of her stupor and trudged to her room at the end of the hall.

  Clearly she was making a fool of herself, ogling the guy who was there to help her. It was silly. It was juvenile. And obviously it was unwanted.

  “Get yourself together, girl,” she mumbled under her breath. “He might look like Zagan, but he’s no angel--fallen or otherwise.”

  Five

  Saturday mornings were special. Saturday mornings were a tradition. The tradition started at eight A.M.. Logan slept in. Jenn did not. She woke early to cook pancakes or homemade waffles and bacon and sausage, just like Mom used to do when she was a kid—not so long ago.

  Jenn began the process by pretending to forget about the man sleeping in Mom and Dad’s old room. She took care of the essentials in the bathroom, added a little makeup to the routine then bundled herself up in a thick sweatshirt and yoga pants. Ready to get cooking—once she had her coffee--she trotted down to the kitchen.

  Today, she would make pancakes. With butterscotch chips. Delicious. Her favorite. Logan’s too. After getting the coffee started, she climbed the stepstool to reach the bag of butterscotch baking chips on the top shelf.

  “I can get that for you.”

  It was him. Aeron. He was behind her.

  A wave of heat spread over her back.

  She twisted to glance at him. “Oh, that’s okay. I have it.”

  He angled closer, one arm stretched overhead. His scent, man and soap, clean and strong, dr
ifted to her nose. His fingertips brushed against hers, and a little spark ignited in her body. Reacting, she jerked backward, bumping her rear end into the world’s most perfect chest. Her sudden shift in bodyweight caused the stool beneath her to wobble. She let out a little squeak, and a strong hand gripped her upper arm, steadying her.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.” He handed her the plastic baggy and released her arm.

  She wasn’t exactly happy about that.

  Her face was hot. And she felt like a total idiot. How silly she must appear to him. Clumsy and awkward. “It’s okay,” she said, forcing a smile. “It’s the stool. One leg is sort of broken.” When he moved back, she stepped off it and kicked it aside, out of her way. She peered at him as she dragged the container of flour across the counter, closer to the big empty mixing bowl that was ready for her.

  His gaze took in the flour, eggs and other ingredients scattered over the counter. “Mmmm. Looks like you’re doing some serious cooking. Is there anything I can do to help? I’m pretty handy in the kitchen.”

  “You cook?”

  He shrugged. “I can stir.”

  “Good enough.” She cracked an eggshell and emptied its contents into the bowl. The melted butter went in next. “Could you please measure out some flour?” As she stirred the egg and butter, she tipped her head to the measuring cup on the counter.

  “Of course.” He grabbed the container of flour and pulled on the lid. It didn’t budge. He grimaced, pulling harder.

  “There’s a trick to getting that open,” she said, feeling a giggle bubbling in her belly.

  His teeth visually gritted. “That’s okay.” He yanked again. “I’ll get it.”

  “But it comes very easily if you—“

  The lid broke loose--easier than Aeron had expected. The whole container flew to the side, slipping from his grip. Jenn watched the whole thing in slow motion as she tried frantically to catch the sailing carton before all the contents spilled out.

  She failed. It hit the counter and a puff of flour erupted out the top, showering them both.

  Aeron looked at her, eyes blinking, eyelashes coated white. He looked adorable. He looked embarrassed. And he looked absolutely sexy. “Um. Yeah. It does come off easily.”

  Jenn’s lips twitched. She didn’t want to laugh. That might make him more embarrassed. She could tell his ego had taken a beating already. His neck was turning a very attractive shade of red, and growing brighter by the second.

  His lips curled up. Then they parted and he broke into a deep, rumbling laugh. She joined him. She couldn’t help it.

  “Do I look like the Pillsbury Dough Boy or what?” he asked as he dragged his white-covered hand across his equally coated face.

  “More like a giant white rat.”

  “Ha! You don’t look any better yourself.” He dug his hand into the carton, and before she could dive out of the way, he dumped a big fist full of flour on top of her head.

  She sputtered and laughed, plunged her hand into the carton and returned the favor, hopping up to try to reach his head. He was too freaking tall. Instead, she ended up dumping the powder on a broad shoulder. A cloud of white puffed out, choking them both for a few seconds as they laughed at each other and themselves.

  “What happened?” Logan’s little voice cut through their guffawing, and they both clamped their lips closed and turned toward him. “You made a mess?”

  “It was…” Jenn snorted. “An accident.”

  Aeron chortled. “Yes, an accident.”

  “Jenny, I saw you. You dumped flour on Aeron. I saw you!” Her little brother was hopping up and down now, like a little kangaroo.

  An impulse flashed in her head, and she followed it. She scooped a handful of flour and dumped it on Logan’s head.

  He shrieked then started jumping around like a caged monkey, throwing flour everywhere. Within seconds, Jenn was covered head-to-toe, Aeron was covered head-to-toe, Logan was covered head-to-toe…and so was Cojack. He was standing in the middle of a huge puddle of snow-white flour yapping, tail wagging. And the kitchen…it looked like a flour factory had exploded in it.

  But Jenn was laughing. Laughing! So hard tears were mixing with the flour, the saltwater caking her face, turning the powder into thick glop. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed, let alone so hard.

  When she was finally able to catch her breath and stop, she grabbed a fresh roll of paper towels to begin the long process of cleaning up. “Sorry, Logan, but it’ll be a while before I get your pancakes—“

  “I say we go out for breakfast.” Aeron gently pulled the paper towel roll out of her hands. “Since it was my fault, I’ll clean this mess up later, after we eat.”

  “But—“

  “My treat.”

  “But…” She glanced down.

  “What? You look beautiful.” He dusted his shoulders with his hands—not that it did much good. “What’s a little flour? It’s Saturday morning. Who’s going to notice?” His gaze locked on hers.

  “Can we go to Big Boy?” Logan asked as he tried to clean Cojack. “They make Mickey Mouse pancakes. I love Mickey Mouse pancakes!”

  Aeron’s lips twitched. “Are you going to deny your brother Mickey Mouse pancakes?”

  She could no sooner deny Logan Mickey Mouse pancakes than she could deny Aeron anything. In one morning, one silly, childish act, he had cracked the chains of grief circling her heart.

  For the first time since that awful day, she didn’t just hope she might be happy someday, she knew it could be possible.

  Oh crap.

  His body was tingling. Everywhere. He didn’t want tingles. He didn’t need tingles.

  What he needed was time with Logan.

  He yanked his gaze from Jenn’s eyes. They had been sparkling so bright he hadn’t been able to look away. They still were, and it was a mesmerizing sight. So was the rest of her, from the tip of her cute little toes to the top of her head. The white flour made her skin look like porcelain, smooth and soft and fair.

  She didn’t know how beautiful she was. He could tell. If his life wasn’t what it was now, he would tell her. Again, and again and again until she believed it. But he couldn’t.

  Instead, he jerked his head toward the door. “Ready?”

  “Are you serious?” Those pretty eyes of hers widened. “We’re not even going to clean ourselves up?”

  “Maybe we’d better,” Logan suggested. “The Pancake house probably doesn’t want a mess on their chairs.”

  “You’re probably right, Logan.” Aeron nodded. “I’ll meet you both at the door in five minutes. I’ll just change my clothes and brush off the loose stuff.”

  “Make it ten. Logan, change your clothes,” Jenn said, dashing toward the stairs. She was at the top before Aeron had even made it to the base of the staircase.

  “Fine. Ten minutes. But no longer.” Aeron grinned over his shoulder at Logan who had shadowed him from the kitchen. “We wouldn’t want poor Logan to starve.”

  “I’m fine.” Logan glanced around. “Where’s Cojack?”

  “Not sure. Probably waiting at the door to be let out. Can you put him outside before you go up to change, buddy?”

  “Sure!” Logan did a one-eighty and sprinted for the kitchen as Aeron stomped up the steps.

  Up in his room, Aeron dusted off as much of the flour as he could with a dry towel then changed into a pair of pants and a short sleeved shirt. A glance in the mirror told him he might want to wash his face before they left. Where the white powder made Jennifer look pretty and feminine, it didn’t do the same for him. It settled in the tiny gaps between his beard stubble, making him look kind of creepy.

  In the hallway, he checked his watch. “Two minutes,” he called through the bathroom door.

  “I’ll be out in one.”

  He watched the second hand circle the watch face, fifteen seconds, thirty, forty-five.

  The door creaked open.

  His breath caught in
his throat.

  In his many travels through hell, Aeron had personally seen the most beautiful angel God had created, but this woman made Lucifer look tired and old and ugly.

  “Sorry I took so long,” she said.

  The results had been worth it. He almost told her that, but he stopped himself.

  “No problem.” He waited for her to step out. The area was tight, the corridor narrow. Her arm brushed against his. A charge of electricity buzzed up to his neck. Ignoring the obnoxious tingle zapping through him (for some reason, whenever they touched, it felt like an electric current charged through him), he closed himself in the bathroom. He took a long, deep breath and looked himself in the mirror.

  “You have got to stop this,” he said to his reflection. “You have to put an end to it now.”

  Wow.

  That word just kept echoing in her head, over and over and over.

  Wow. Wow. Wow.

  It couldn’t have been her imagination. Granted, she had a vivid imagination. She capitalized on that every day. But this couldn’t just be in her head. It couldn’t. The chemistry was too powerful. It felt like a magnetic force, drawing her closer to him, pulling her toward him.

  She’d never felt anything like it before.

  That strange, powerful, overwhelming connection. That thrill she got from staring into his eyes. That magical moment when their gazes locked and the air crackled between them.

  Standing in the hall, staring at the bathroom door, she could literally feel her nerves firing. Every single one. She’s been attracted to a guy before. She’d had boyfriends. She’d had one pretty serious one, just before…just before her life had crashed down around her.

  But she’d never felt anything like this before.

  What was it? Infatuation? Lust?

  He felt something too. She could see it. In his face. His eyes.

  What was happening? Was this the beginning of something wonderful and life changing and beautiful?

  She felt so alive right now. For the first time in ages, the future didn’t look bleak and sad and lonely.