Brooke & Ben: Before Fate Interrupted

by Kaitlyn Cross

  “You wanna see it?”

  Her looked down to her arms, unsure which one he was supposed to be looking at. “Sure.”

  “No, not my arm, the tree house.”

  “Just don’t go inside,” Laura said into her wineglass. “Place is one giant wasp nest.”

  “They’re probably all dead by now,” Ben said with the confidence of a skilled landscaper. “It’s been warm, but we had a few cold nights before Halloween.”

  “Remember when you got stung in the neck out there?” Laura asked.

  “Don’t remind me,” Brooke groaned, her body convulsing with a bout of the shivers. “I looked like I had a giant goiter the next day.”

  Laura giggled. “I thought for sure your father was going to fall off that ladder after spraying that nest. They were all over him.”

  “I was in full control of the situation,” Will hollered from the living room.

  “Honey, what was the name of that pest control company we ended up…”

  “I don’t know,” he sang out, politely cutting his wife off. “I’m talking to some guy named Omniscient Jay right now, sweetie.”

  They grew quiet, the TV and rattling of forks against plates the only sound in the room.

  Brooke set her napkin on the table and turned to Ben. “You finished?”

  “I am,” he said, turning to Laura with a smile. “That was amazing. Thank you for having me.”

  She smiled back. “It was nice seeing you again, Tony.”

  “We’ll be right back,” Brooke said, getting up and leading Ben out the French doors that led to the backyard.

  “There’s tiramisu in the kitchen when you’re done,” Laura said. “And watch out for homeless people out there.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The flashlight lit up a tall ash, its leaves a stunning canopy of red. Its thick trunk ran smack-dab through the middle of a tiny yellow house with white trim. Shingles covered the steeped roof while a bay window gazed out over the backyard.

  “Holy shit,” Ben mumbled. “That is awesome.”

  “I always feel guilty looking at it because Evy and I hardly used it.” Brooke ran the beam down the ladder bolted to the trunk. “It was like one of those toys you get for Christmas and by Valentine’s Day you’re totally over it.”

  “I would’ve had all of my friends over to spend the night in that thing.”

  “We tried that.” Brooke followed him over to the ladder, her heels sinking a little in the browning grass. “My mom thought homeless people would break in and murder us in our sleep.”

  “Homeless people? Why? Are there railroad tracks around here or something?”

  “No, but there’s a wooded area a couple blocks behind us where people like to set up transient camps.” She wielded the flashlight to the black trees on the other side of the privacy fence like she had just heard something. “City tried giving em the boot but they just kept coming back.”

  Ben swallowed loudly in the silence that followed and looked back up to the tree house. “Yeah, but it’s got a balcony!”

  She swung the light up onto a white trap door with brass hinges in the balcony floor. “One day as a young child, I was up there coloring when I saw one of them stumble out of the woods.”

  Ben followed the light like a cat. “One of who? The homeless people?”

  She nodded. “Suddenly, he stopped and looked up. Our eyes met but only for a moment.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed one time. “Are you making this up?”

  “Then he climbed our fence and ran for the ladder.” Brooke inhaled a heavy lungful of air and spoke faster. “I was all alone and could barely move but somehow, by the grace of God, I managed to slam the trapdoor shut and lock it just in time. He pounded and pounded while I hid under the desk and covered my ears.” She paused for another breath and slowed way down. “Then he crept back into the woods and I never saw him again.”

  Ben looked into the darkened tree line just beyond the fence. “You’re so full of shit.”

  “Next day they found all of the people in the homeless camp…dead.”

  “No way.”

  “They never knew who did it…but I did.”

  He looked up and spoke in a nervous whisper. “Think there’s a homeless person up there right now?”

  Brooke jerked the beam around and pointed. “Behind you!”

  Ben jumped and spun on his heels, raising his hands to defend himself. “Jesus Christ!” he said, lowering his arms when he saw no one was there.

  Brooke covered her mouth and giggled wildly. “You should’ve seen your face!”

  “Will you keep it down? You’re going to draw them to our position.” He scanned the woods.

  Brooke’s laughter trickled to a finish. “Position? What’re we in Vietnam?”

  “Come on,” he said, climbing the rungs.

  Brooke shone the light on his butt. “We should go back inside.”

  “I have to see the inside of this thing.”

  She watched his cheeks wiggle back and forth up the ladder, a needful desire quivering inside. “Okay.”

  He pushed through the trapdoor and hoisted himself up onto the balcony. A firefly floated between them, painting a green brushstroke across the night.

  He stuck his hand through the hole in the floor. “Come on.”

  Brooke glanced back to her parents’ house, the flashlight slicing through the darkness like a lightsaber.

  “Don’t be scared; there aren’t any homeless people up here.” His eyebrows furrowed as he thought about it. “Well, not until you get up here anyway.”

  “You’re not funny, and I’m not scared. I’m wearing heels.”

  Ben looked over his shoulder at the hobbit-like white door behind him. “I’m not going in there alone,” he said, pressing the point.

  A defeated sigh snuck past her lips and she started climbing, swinging the light as she carefully pulled herself up one rung at a time. He took her hand and helped her through the opening, pulling her onto him and shutting off the light.

  “I think I’ve had too much wine to be climbing trees,” she panted, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. “Or not enough.”

  He swung his legs through the white railing and let his feet dangle ten feet above the ground. They grew quiet and Ben pulled out a smoke. The flame splashed a romantic glow over his face that made her eyes glitter with heat. He exhaled a cloud of smoke up into the stars. “Another nice night.”

  Brooke looked up into the black sky where specks of light twinkled like far-off jewels. But the night’s bedazzled luster wasn’t enough to hold her attention for long. She turned back to Ben and his strong profile, unable to keep from staring even though she could barely make out his features in the dark. “You want to go inside?”

  He slipped the lighter into his pocket and looked over his shoulder. “Ladies first.”

  “I’m not going first.”

  Her abrupt horror brought laughter to his lips. “Thought you weren’t scared.”

  “I’m not.”

  “There could be a deranged lunatic in there,” he whispered.

  “The only deranged lunatic around here is sitting inside watching Fringe.”

  He smiled at her, his teeth glowing in the moonlight. “That’s better than what I thought you were going to say.”

  “If you go golfing with my dad I’ll add you to the deranged mix.”

  “Why? He seems like a fun guy to hit the links with.”

  “Why? Because he’ll see your tattoos and know you’re not Tony!”

  “It’ll be chilly enough to get away with wearing a light jacket.”

  “Have you lost your mind?”

  “You’re over thinking this, Brooke.”

  “Am I, Ben?” She snatched the flashlight from him and got up, careful not to bump her head on any branches. “I can’t believe you golf anyway.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because most tattooed guys don’t golf. They jump stu
ff on motorcycles and play in bands.”

  “That is racial profiling and that hurts.” Ben watched her open the white door with a small window in it. He flicked the cigarette to the ground and followed her inside, ducking as he passed through the doorway. His eyes followed the beam of light around the cozy room, a window in every wall.

  He pointed to the corner of the ceiling. “Wasp!”

  She screamed and followed his finger with the light. “You jerk!” she hissed, wielding the flashlight around to his face. “That is not funny.”

  He watched her with an impish grin on his lips. “You should’ve seen your face.”

  “Ha ha.”

  His eyes swept the miniature house. “Wow, this place is amazing.”

  “This place always freaked me out.” She sank into a red bean bag chair on the floor.

  Hunched over, Ben studied a small table with a stool on each side. “Man, your dad did a great job on this. He could rent this place out.”

  Brooke turned off the flashlight and pulled her knees up to her chest. “I feel so bad for never spending time out here.” She snorted. “We wanted a dollhouse and got a tree house instead.”

  Ben sat down in a purple bean bag chair next to her and let his legs spill out the front door onto the balcony. He wiggled his boots back and forth, staring up at the ceiling. “It even has a skylight!”

  “Yeah, he went all in on this place.”

  “He really did.” A short time later, her silence drew his eyes. “What?”

  “Nothing.” She looked away and scooted closer.

  “You’ve got a great family. I’m glad I came.”

  She flashed him a pretty smile and ran her fingers over the thin blue carpeting. “What about you? Do your parents live here?”

  “My mom does, but my dad split when I was young.”

  An owl cried out for attention off in the distance. Silence was its only answer.

  “How young?”

  “Four.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  An indifferent shrug lifted his broad shoulders. “Don’t even remember him, so…” He found her eyes through the gloom. “Can’t miss something you never had.”

  “Any brothers or sisters?”

  “Nope, just me and my mom for the most part.”

  “What does your mom do?”

  “She’s a receptionist at an insurance company on the west side.” He gazed out the skylight and snorted. “Part-time church lady on the weekends.”

  Brooke laughed a little. “Really?”

  “Oh yeah, you won’t find wine and beer at our holiday dinners. More like ten minute prayers and goblets of holy water.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  They grew quiet, sharing a moment of comfortable silence. A complacent sigh rolled from Brooke as she gazed out the skylight to the stars above. Her hand brushed against his in the moonlight slipping through.

  His eyes lowered to his hand.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  “No, you’re not.”

  Her eyes thinned. “God, you’re cocky.’

  He cradled her cheek with his palm, the darkness diminishing as their night vision set in. “You’re so damn beautiful.”

  “Stop.”

  “Stop what?”

  Brooke leaned forward and kissed him, softly at first. She pulled back and grimaced. “Will you please stop doing that?”

  He laughed. “Me? You did it.”

  She released an irritable sigh and turned away from those full lips of his before she could do anything else she would later regret.

  “Hey,” he whispered.

  She turned to him and he laid a wet kiss on her lips that tasted like a slice of heaven. Her body went limp with his touch, unable to repel his advances with any show of force. Total Jell-O. He kissed her harder and she responded in kind, cradling his scruff in her hands and pressing against him with reckless abandon.

  The floor creaked beneath them with the stars watching through the skylight above like celestial voyeurs hiding in the night.His fingers ran through her hair, their tongues twisting in their mouths.

  They separated but their eyes remained locked, searching each other in the pale moonlight.

  Ben let her hair fall back down. “Thank you for bringing me out here.”

  Though she tried not to, she smiled warmly back at him.

  “I mean, you must really like me to bring me out here.”

  Her smile ran for the hills. “What?”

  “Your most cherished childhood memory.” She could see his shit-eating grin through the gloom. “I knew you’d come around sooner or later, freckles.”

  She smacked his bicep, which was like slapping a cinderblock wall. “You’re such a jerk!”

  “Listen, I know that you know…”

  “Shut up,” she said, balling his shirt into her fist and pulling him to her needy lips.

  He wrapped her in his arms and squeezed, tasting her on his lips like it was the first time all over again. Her fingers ran over his face and arms as her mouth melted with his.

  She pulled back again, chest rising and falling as she chased her breath. She stared into his eyes, surprised and unnerved by the way her body and mind were revolting against her. “I hate to admit it but, I think you might…”

  “Hi guys.”

  Brooke screamed bloody murder, scrambling away from the door on her backside like a crab. She crashed into the desk she and Evy used to draw pictures of flowers and sparkly cupcakes at. Her chest rose and fell. “Tasha?”

  Tasha crouched in the doorway and rested on her high heels. “Sorry to interrupt but I need to borrow your red leather jacket.”

  Brooke straightened her shirt, her face still twisted with terror. “God Tash, you scared the crap out of me! I thought you were my dad!”

  “Sorry.”

  Ben let out a pent-up breath. “I thought you were a homeless person.”

  Tasha looked from Brooke to Ben, an endearing twinkle in her eyes. “You two are just the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen. I felt like I was in a romance novel just then.”

  Brooke crawled closer. “What! How long were you out there?”

  “Long enough.” She wiggled her fingers at Ben. “Hi Roger.”

  He wiggled back. “It’s Ben.”

  “That was such a tender moment,” Tasha grinned.

  Brooke held up a hand like a traffic cop. “Okay, stop,” she said, exhaling a warm breath. “Why do you need my coat?”

  “Mandy and I are going to Buffalo Wild Wings.”

  Brooke shook her head like she had just been slapped. “Why?”

  An innocent shrug made Tasha’s brown leather coat bounce on her shoulders. “Because that is where I will find the easiest target on the planet.”

  Ben ran his hand over his hair from back to front. “Target?”

  Tasha peered out the skylight into space. “You know – beer belly, flip-flops, colorful NASCAR hat. The works. I mean, the kind of guy who will cream his pants before I even have to touch his little chubby peter.”

  Ben laughed.

  “Oh my God, you are not serious!” Brooke said.

  Tasha swung her eyes over to her and spoke in a grave voice. “Oh, I’m serious - dead serious. I haven’t slept in three days.”

  “Sweetie, you’re just going through a rough patch because you keep picking the wrong guys.”

  “Brooke, this goes way deeper than that! I was obviously cursed by a band of pissed off gypsies or something!” A conquered sigh slithered from her lips into the tree house. “Probably cut one of them off while I was texting and driving. Who knows?”

  “Sounds like you had it coming.”

  Tasha and Brooke turned to him with screwed up faces.

  He held up his hands. “What? That shit should be illegal. I hate getting stuck behind those assholes.”

  “Hey!”

  “Honey,” Brooke said, reaching for Tasha’s hand. “
I’m not going to let you do this, nor will I lend you my coat or anything else that makes me an accessory to this idiotic crime.”

  “Brooke, do you think I want to do this? No, I don’t. But I don’t have a choice in the matter because sometimes when life pushes, you have to push back.”

  Ben started cracking up.

  “You have lost your mind,” Brooke asserted, leaning back into her bean bag.

  “Relax, I’m just going to flirt with some guy and see if he gets hard. That’s it.”

  Ben leaned back in the bean bag as well, the floorboards groaning beneath his weight. “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “Tasha, you don’t have to do this. You’re beautiful!” She looked to Ben for help. “Isn’t she pretty?”

  “Very pretty.”

  Tasha raised her brow. “Really?”

  “Yes,” they replied at the same time.

  Tasha swept a tongue across her lips. “Maybe I just hang out here with you guys tonight.” Her eyes ran across Ben’s midsection. “See what comes up.”

  “My coat is in my closet,” Brooke replied flatly.

  Tasha shrugged. “Suit yourself,” she said, carefully backing her way to the trapdoor. “Wish me luck.”

  “No.” Brooke stuck her head through the doorway and watched Tasha carefully navigate the ladder in high heels.

  “K, bye,” Tasha sang out, dropping into the grass and prancing across the yard.

  Brooke eased back into the tree house, grumbling beneath her breath. “There is no getting through to her.” When Ben didn’t respond she looked over. “What are you doing?”

  Ben pulled the carpet back in his hand. “There’s something under here.” He clicked the flashlight on and pried a loose board up with a light crack. “What the hell?” His hand went into the hole and came back with a small box resembling a miniature trunk. He blew dust from its lid, making Brooke cough.

  “Thanks,” she said, waving her hand through the air.

  “What is this?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Ben’s face sobered. “Do you think a bum put it here?”

  “No.”

  Ben handed her the light and inhaled a steadying breath before carefully cracking the lid open. His jaw dropped. “Holy shit,” he whispered, snaring a weathered piece of parchment paper from inside.