Page 8 of Broken Pieces

Chapter Five

Brooks

“Why do I have to drive all the way into town and do a favor for you, Summer?”

“Because you are just the best brother-in-law in the world.”

I grumble into the phone, “I have horses to feed and a fence to repair out here. I don’t have time to run into town to pick something up from Ivy so I can bring it to you.”

“Oh for Pete’s sake, you are twenty minutes outside of town.”

“And you are almost an hour away! I won’t be back out to your farm until next week,” I shout.

“Well, Brett’s coming by to drop off some stuff for your dad so he can get it from you.” Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard to me right now. I don’t know why I answered the damn phone. Oh that’s right because she called from my brother’s phone.

“Can’t he just drop by and see Ivy then?”

“He doesn’t have time, he’s already in a rush.”

I contemplate just hanging up on her. But then her sweet voice says, “I’ll make you some blueberry cobbler next week.”

I groan into the phone. That is the one thing that always gets me. “Fine. But you better be making me some every day.”

“Thanks, sugar!” She hangs up and I curse. I don’t know how my brother puts up with her.

I feed the horses at my dad’s farm and then jump in my truck to head into town. I do need to pick up some feed and head to the hardware store so it’s not too much of an inconvenience, but that woman never lifts a finger.

It’s sweltering out today and by the time I lift the last bag of feed into my truck, my shirt is drenched. I take it off and wring it out before hopping back in and stopping at the diner. I throw the truck in park and jump out. The bell rings as I walk in and give my panty-dropping smile to Ivy as she cleans off a table.

“You decide not to wear a shirt anymore?” she asks, not at all fazed by my smile.

“It’s hotter than hell out there.”

“I know but it don’t mean you can walk right on in here and pay no mind to the sign on the door that says no shirt, no shoes, no service.”

“Well if that’s the case, I would be more than happy to take my pants off and use them as a shirt. Would I get service then?”

“Oh, shut up, you dumb twit!” she exclaims as she throws a French fry at me. I catch it and toss it in my mouth, grinning the whole time.

She looks at me appalled. “You do realize that a child probably stuck that in his mouth and spit it out at some point.”

“That must be the extra flavor I taste.”

“You are the grossest human being I have ever met.”

“Oh come on, Ivy, you can’t mean that. Haven’t you seen these abs?” I not so subtly rub my hands down my chest and stomach, winking in the process.

“I get to look at my own set of abs every night and he is much better to look at than you.”

“You don’t mean that. I’m hurt.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Seriously, can you put a shirt on if you’re gonna be in here? You’re hurting my business.”

“Doubtful.” And like clockwork just as I say it, three young girls walk in giggling and staring at me. “See, I think I just helped,” I say as I point toward them.

“You are absolutely ridiculous, Brooks Anderson.”

“You love me,” I say grinning. “Now I just stopped by to pick up something for Summer.”

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