Page 26 of This Broken Heart

I give him a sly look. “You know what the problem is, don’t you?”

He rolls his eyes. “Don’t get started on that Case versus John Deere bullshit again. I’ve heard it all. If I want to drive green tractors, that’s what I’ll do, God damn it.” He takes a swig of beer to emphasize the point. “I heard a rumor about you today.”

I glance over. “Oh yeah? A good one, I hope.”

Bo smiles so big that his crooked tooth shows. “It’s a good one, believe me.”

“Just spit it out. I don’t have the energy for guessing games.”

“Alright, don’t get tetchy. Why didn’t you tell me you were getting yourself a nanny?”

I turn to face him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m getting a nanny.”

He grins, shrugging out from under my hand. “From the sounds of it, she’s just perfect for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that she’s a cute little thing. I heard she has a nice… face.” He motions in front of his chest, holding two imaginary melons in front of him.

I’m used to the guys talking about ladies. I never took part in it, because for as long as we were interested in girls, I had Ana to occupy my thoughts.

But hearing him talk about Erin’s anatomy like she’s just another chick sends a small flare of irritation through me.

I turn away, sipping my beer. “She’s alright, I guess.”

“Just alright?” Bo asks, studying my profile.

A smile tugs at the corner of my lips.

He laughs, pounding me on the back. “You got any pictures?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t show them to a no good horn dog like yourself.”

“Just humor me, then. I haven’t gone on a date in months. I’m dying over here. What’s she like?”

“She’s cute.”

“Just cute?”

I shrug.

He sighs. “I need more details, man. What kind of cute? Like baby bunny cute or Playboy bunny cute?”

“The latter.”

I’m almost surprised by the concession. It sort of rolls off the tongue without me really taking the time to think about it. I can’t say I ever saw myself thinking a chick who wears bright pink Sesame street t-shirts was hot. My brain may not understand her sense of fashion, but my body is a big fan.

Her face flashes in front of mine, reminding me of the last conversation we had.

Well, she was having a conversation. I was just throwing another tantrum.

But those weren’t just flowers she cleared away; they were memories of some of the last good days we had with Ana. She clipped those blooms from my mom’s garden. She kept going on and on about how amazing it was to still have blooms so late in October. A miracle, she called it.

She called the sudden snowstorm that followed a miracle, too. I remember calling it a pain in the ass. If I’d known what would follow, I would have called that snow a curse.

“Earth to Joshy.”

I shake myself, glancing over at him. “Hmm?”

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