Page 34 of Fall Over You

Silence falls between us. Becca’s voice is quiet when she speaks again. “It’s not the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. I really do need something to boost my cash flows so I don’t get screwed every time one of these weekends gets bad weather.”

She extends the bag of kettle corn my way again and I take more. It feels weirdly familiar, sitting on a bench with Becca, watching Ellie and Ada play, sharing a snack.

“You really think they’d give us a loan?” I ask.

She blows out a breath. “Be nice if they would. I think we’ve got a better chance together than on our own.”

“But . . . you wouldn’t consider . . . marrying me, would you? For the money?”

Becca takes on one of her devilish looks, sticking out her tongue. “Done worse for money.”

Something stirs deep in my gut, those memories of her getting it on with everyone but me awakening some trembling, demonic voice. I don’t want to entertain the darkest thoughts. Would I have paid to have Becca pay attention to me like that? That’s sick. Impossible. Dusty asked me to keep her out of trouble. I couldn’t be the one contributing to the trouble. “All that stuff was for money?”

She leans in. “Nah. It’s just ‘cause I like getting railed six ways to Sunday.”

I snap to look at her. “You can’t say that. This place is supposed to be for kids.”

She covers her mouth and holds back a laugh. “Sorry. I’ll make it up to ‘em with the candy cig booth.”

“You’re a mess,” I say with an eye roll.

“A beautiful mess,” she says with a flick of her hair. “A mess that could be yours for the discount price of a business loan. Or a line of credit. I’m not picky.”

“You’d really do this?”

“Why not? You wouldn’t?” she asks breezily. “You could be a ring and a smooch away from having a business and life partner. And an easier life. T-Bone’s been asking for a little sister, you know.” She strokes her fingers through the lengths of her hair, snagging on a tangle for a second before she smooths it out. I think of how I could brush it out, then shake myself from that thought. What am I doing? “I got this big old house. A bunch of empty rooms. Ellie could have her own room. You could have a proper bed.”

I suck on the roof of my mouth. I know it’s just stupid pride, but I don’t like being called out like this. “We do just fine,” I bite out.

Becca’s hand lands on top of mine between us on the bench. Her hand is cold, but the squeeze she gives me feels warm and genuine. “I know you do. But maybe we could both do a little better together.”

I’m silent and she tightens again before letting go. “I need a loan and so do you. Getting this business off the ground is taking more than I thought it would, but I can’t get to a sustainable profit without a little boost. I can’t rely on this.” She gestures to our surroundings. “If it rains or worse, I’m screwed. How close are you to profit?”

I shake my head. “Dad’s just gotten so slow. I have to stay up late to get caught up. And I have to turn business away pretty regularly.”

She crosses her legs and sits back. “But another worker would even things out.”

“Pretty much. But I can’t get over the hump to be able to afford one. I owe back bills to a lot of my parts dealers.”

She grimaces. “I was afraid of that. Tell you what. What if we just explore this? Let’s both put together the math of how much each of us needs and see if it makes sense for you to pretend to be in love with me.”

I lower my voice. “Isn’t this fraud?”

She twists so her body faces into me, and I realize how much that change in body language does make it go from friends to more real fast. She picks up my hand that’s between us and puts it along the back of the bench, so it’s like I’m holding her. “Not if we sell it, honey.” She slings an arm behind my neck and leans into my ear, her touch heating my whole face. “Tomorrow morning, you come over and bring your cost estimates. If it looks good, we’ll plan out how to make this work.”

Her face is still so close to mine and everything about this situation is overwhelming. She’s just going with my wild idea, always down for mischief and mayhem. We gaze at each other for so long that we laugh, and I flash back to that last time we almost became something. Before CJ. Becca bites her lower lip and I want to clutch her jaw and kiss it right out from between her teeth. I want to suck on that lip, to pin her under me, to feel her fingertips dragging down my spine, to have the security that she’s safe and well because I’d protect her with everything I am.

The way Becca looks at me now awakens everything that fell silent years ago. I’m under her spell, entranced by her magnetic force. All the things I used to want with her lift from the ground like the first fireflies at night, buried under leaves and sticks until they’re ready to bring a gentle, magical glow.

I want Becca Martin, and I don’t want to share.

“You’re trouble,” is all I can figure out to say.

She pecks my cheek. “I know it. And I look damn good in white too.” She stands with a smile and winks. “See you in the morning, hun.”

Everything about this is deranged, but before she’s even gone, I’m counting the seconds until I can see her tomorrow. “Trouble on legs,” I add.

“Say it louder next time. I love hearing my name,” she calls over her shoulder before walking backward. “And hey, bring that tractor part if you got it for me.”