Page 14 of Every Broken Thing

“Hell if I know!” He threw up his hands in exasperation, and I barked out a laugh.

A ghost of a smile played at his lips as he met my gaze, and I chuckled again. We’d come to an odd truce of sorts. We still weren’t friends, but maybe we understood each other.

The roar of a diesel engine broke the odd moment, and a huge Ford F350 growled to a stop nose-to-nose with my tiny little pick-up. The driver’s-side door readMiller’s Construction, and it swung open as a tall, burly man climbed from the cab. His heavy work boots thudded against the pavement, and dust billowed from the open door, clinging to his clothes, his graying hair, and his salt-and-pepper beard.

A man clearly accustomed to manual labor, he was solidly built and broad, and I instinctively took a cautious half-step back. Ben was no scrawny skeleton, but he didn’t hold a candle to his uncle’s thick body. Despite his intimidating aura, my wariness eased as he opened his thin mouth in a toothy grin, his blue eyes alight with soft, unexpected kindness.

“What kind of boys don’t carry jumper cables in their vehicles?” the man barked, his smile easing the bite of his words.Ben shook his head with a huff as his uncle extended his massive paw in my direction. “Henry Miller. I’m Ben’s uncle.”

“Silas Brigs.” I shook his hand, praying he didn’t crush me. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

“Firm handshake. I like that.” He nodded his approval. “But none of that ‘sir’ business. Just call me Henry.”

He lumbered back to the monstrosity disguised as his truck without awaiting an answer, and I lifted Mabel’s hood. I held it above my head since my strut broke off months ago and I never replaced it, and Ben sidled up next to me with the ends to the jumper cables his uncle had tossed our way.

“Don’t mind him. His bark is worse than his bite,” Ben whispered, and his breath swirled through the air, smelling like spearmint gum.

I stopped myself from angling closer, my fingers tightening on the hood above my head as I tried not to notice the way my body wanted to respond to his proximity. Yes, he was good-looking, but I didn’t want to be attracted to him. He was straight for Christ’s sake.

“He seems… nice.” I peeked over my shoulder at Ben’s uncle.

“Yeah, he’s a little eccentric.”

“Weird people are fine. It’s the normal ones you have to watch out for,” I said as Henry fired up his truck behind us.

Ben’s laughter was lost to the noise of the diesel engine, but I found myself grinning along with him as his dimple carved into his cheek. He looked good when he smiled too.

“Give her some time to juice up,” Henry said, and I jerked my eyes away from Ben’s perfect mouth. “Then we’ll head home for dinner. June’s already setting you a spot.”

Ben watched me expectantly, and it took me a moment to understand Henry was addressing me. “Wait, what?”

“She’ll have my ass if I send you home without a meal,” he continued talking as I blundered over excuses. “Won’t take nofor an answer, of that you can be sure.” He pointed to my truck. “Start her up and see how she runs. You can follow Ben.”

“Mr. Miller—”

“Call me Henry, son.” He shooed me away, Ben taking my place under the hood as I stumbled to the driver’s door.

Climbing inside, I prayed Mabel wouldn’t wake, but of course, she purred to life like a dream. Traitorous truck!

“Just follow me,” Ben said after he dropped the hood back into place. “They don’t live far.”

“Thanks for the warning, asswipe.” I flashed him my middle finger, but he shrugged off the rude gesture as he backed toward his car.

“Worth it to see the look on your face.”

I should have gone home, but the guilt of bailing after Henry came to the school to jump my truck was impossible to ignore. I followed Ben through the nicer neighborhoods near the school until he and Henry pulled into the driveway of a nice ranch-style brick home.Modest in size with attractive landscaping, it gave the impression of wealth without shoving my face in the excess.

Shadowing Ben’s silver Impala, I pulled into the driveway beside him, and when no one told me to move, I shut Mabel down. I retrieved my phone from the cup holder and slid it into my pocket alongside my keys. A nervous sweat broke over my palms, and I wiped my hands on my jeans as Ben led me through the garage.

Stupid, gorgeous boy, wheedling himself past my defenses. The closer he got, the stickier he became. Like super glue, he adhered himself to my life, never to be removed.

And here I was at his house about to dine with him, his doomsday-prepper uncle, and his aunt whom I had yet to meet—though I assumed she was as sweetly sticky as her nephew. But hey, at least I was getting a free, home-cooked meal out of thedeal. My stomach agreed with a loud rumble as we entered the mudroom and were assaulted by a delicious mixture of aromas.

Ben slipped his shoes off and added them to the shoe rack, and I followed his example as I eyed the washer and dryer running in the corner of the mudroom. Shelves of canned goods lined the walls, and we passed the door leading to the basement to enter the kitchen, the smell of food growing stronger.

My kitchen was nowhere near as fancy as this one, with its marble countertops, genuine tile floor, and shiny, stainless-steel appliances. It was spotless save for a few pans in the sink and the explosion of mementos covering the fridge.

As Ben washed his hands, I shuffled to the refrigerator and explored the messy life displayed. Photos and baby announcements, wedding invitations and magnets littered the surface, and I smiled as I inspected the pieces of Ben’s life—or at least, the life of his aunt and uncle. I smothered a laugh when I spotted a photo of him as a young kid dressed like Batman for Halloween, standing next to a blonde woman with sad brown eyes. They looked alike, Ben and this lady, and I wondered if it was his mother.

---