“I ever tellyou you’re a good kid, Coop?” Dad asked as I handed him his coffee. All three of the bays in the shop were full today, and I knew we had another car coming in this afternoon. Busy was good. No time to think when you were busy. “You wearing yours for a reason?”
I looked down at my coffee-stained overalls and smiled wryly. “Not mine. Someone ran into me on the way into the coffee shop.”
“Someone?” Dad asked, pacing over to the wall to check the schedule.
“Someone I’d never seen before.” I shrugged. “Dark hair. Bluest eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. Apparently has the coordination of a baby giraffe.”
“Bluest eyes you’ve ever seen in your life?” Dad turned back to me, raising an eyebrow and sipping his too-hot coffee.
I pretended to sip my own so I wouldn’t have to look at him, the tips of my ears heating. “Well, it’s true,” I mumbled.
“Get a name?” Dad asked.
“No. I probably should have, but he seemed to be in a hurry.”
I would’ve liked a name. Especially since he was taking my place as the new guy in town.
Also, he had been ridiculously beautiful. Only a blind man could’ve missed the shape of his mouth, the perfect nose, the high cheekbones, the reddish-golden hair flopped over his face, like he’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine or something.
“But youdidhave time to notice his eyes,” my dad pointed out, gesturing with his coffee. Shouldn’t have mentioned the eyes. I’d always had a weakness for pretty eyes, and Dad knew it.
I took a breath to object, but before I had to come up with something to say, the sound of familiar, tiny footsteps saved me.
“Coop!” Benji called out, rushing toward me. I barely had enough time to set my coffee aside and crouch down before he crashed into me, little arms wrapping around my neck and squeezing tight.
“You’re wet,” Benji added after a second, backing off and scrunching his nose up as he took in the mess of my overalls. I had a second set, and probably should’ve changed into them, but these ones weren’t covered in grease yet. It seemed a waste to wash them over a little coffee.
“I spilled,” I said. “Grownups do that, too, sometimes.”
His face twisted into the most horrified look a six-year-old was capable of making and I had to bite my lip to stop myself laughing at him. Six-year-olds were entitled to experience the horror of knowing you’re never free from accidents that end in needing a change of clothes. Even if it was adorable.
“But it’s okay, see? No one got hurt and my overalls have been washed before and will be washed again. I’m being very brave about it.”
“Like me,” Benji said, grinning at me.
Yeah, like him. He was pretty much the bravest person I knew, given everything he’d been through.
I sat down with a groan I wished I could hide, leaning against the workbench behind me. I’d have to get to work in a minute, but Benji was here now. He wouldn’t be six forever. Nothing was forever. I didn’t want to lose a minute with him that he wanted to spend with me, if I could help it.
“So, what’s up?” I asked, reaching up to grab my coffee again. “Weren’t you helping Grandma with the garden today? I bet if you helped her pick lemons, she’d show you how to make lemonade.”
“Have to show you this,” Benji said, holding out his neon pink band-aid-wrapped pinkie.
“Aww,” I said, taking his little hand as gently as I could. “How’d that happen?”
“Grandma,” Benji said, looking over his shoulder at my mom, who’d been talking to Dad.
“She bite you?” I teased, looking up from his hand to his face. He lookedsomuch like Laura. Same glittering eyes, same button nose. I’d gotten my dad’s nose, and I was secretly glad Benji hadn’t. There was too much of it for a little boy.
“Sat on me,” Benji said, deadly serious. I had to bite my tongue this time to stop myself smiling.
“You mean you put your hand under her again when she was trying to sit down?”
It was amazing the way his face could turn from cute little imp to world’s most innocent and perfect child in a split second. Mom swore I’d been the same, but I didn’t think my face couldeverhave been this expressive. My nose had never been this cute.
I reached out and booped his, a wave of tenderness welling up in my chest. I loved him so much. Even if teasing Mom was one of his favorite life activities. She said he got that from me, too.
She was probably right.
