Page 11 of This Broken Heart
I tip my head. I knew she was young. I just didn’t expect her to look like… that. Her profile picture reminded me of my cousin Marla. A little frumpy. But in real life, she’s more of a bombshell than I expected.If people see her coming and going from my house, if they get word she lives with me, they’ll start talking.
They’ll say I’ve finally moved on.
And I would never do that to Ana.
She was the love of my life.
7.
Erin
Josh doesn’t live in the big house.
I follow in my little sedan as he drives across the county road to an adjacent property.
He lives in a small ranch-style house with a tidy yard. A tire swing sways in the breeze, a frozen puddle gleaming beneath it.
Trace bounds across the yard, warming me through with his enthusiasm. I’m still not sure about all of this, but Trace is not the problem. It’s his dad.
I let Trace take my hand. He’s excited to show me his house, tugging me right up behind Josh. Maven leans over her daddy’s shoulder, watching me with big, brown eyes.
I try to estimate how tall Josh is. He’s got at least a foot on me, which would put him at 6’4” at a minimum.
And despite the lingering smell of feedlot, I catch Josh’s scent and it’s distinctly manly. Like leather, and cedar, and soap.I never took myself to be a cowboy kind of girl, but those Wranglers make a convincing case.
Leading us inside, he nearly catches me staring.
I turn my gaze to the snug little living room. Josh rubs the back of his neck. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but just turns and moves off to the kitchen.
Trace grabs my hand and tows me into the living room. He jumps up on the couch, putting his finger on the glass of a family photo frame. “That’s my family. Dad, Mavey, and mom.” He turns to look at me, his gaze solemn. “My mom got sick. She’s in heaven now.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that.”
He shrugs, jumping down from the couch. I glance at the portrait again. They’re at the lake. Josh and Trace wear matching white shirts. The girls are in white dresses. They’re all smiling, Josh included. His wife wasn’t pretty in a traditional sense, which is a bit surprising. He seems like the kind of guy who could have whoever he wants. She was tall and slender, with a distinct nose and gorgeous dark eyes.
It doesn’t escape my notice that I’m more or less her polar opposite. I don’t think I waseverthat skinny. And despite my best efforts, the straighteners and the hair dye, this curly red hair is here to stay.
Trace doubles back, hanging off the corner of the hallway. “Coming?”
I follow behind Trace while he gives me a tour, showing me his room. Maven’s. He demands I step into Josh’s room, even though it feels like I’m treading on hallowed ground.
Josh’s wife is everywhere. Not just in photos, but in her style. In the warm, comforting home she crafted.
Trace leads me back to the kitchen, where Josh is cooking with Maven on his hip.
“I can help with that.”
He glances back at me, expression completely impassive. “It’s okay. I got it. The kids are pretty particular about their Mac n Cheese.”
“Okay. I’m going to go grab my suitcase, then.”
“Oh. Are you staying the night?”
There’s a brief pause between the two of us. I doubt myself for a second, but I must have read his job posting a hundred times. Lodging was part of the deal.
Something’s off, though. It’s like he’s changed his mind. I’ve been on the fence, myself, but if he doesn’t want me here, that makes the decision pretty obvious. I open my mouth to tell him exactly that, but Trace interrupts. “You’re staying the night?” He says, eyes wide. “Like a slumber party?”
I look at Josh, catching him mid-wince. He tears his gaze away, patting Trace’s head. “Go help her with her bags, bud.”