by BJ Harvey
I get what today was about. He recruited Betty to help get me out of the house for the day so he could do all of this. ”You and Betty—”
He nods and laughs, his lips twitching. “She sent me a text message on your way home and said you didn’t make it easy on her.”
“Let’s just say she’s a fan of yours,” I reply.
He does a slow scan of me from head to toe and back again. ”And what about you? Are you on Team Jamie?”
I study him. His arms are folded across his chest; his feet braced apart in a stance that screams masculinity. His black T-shirt hugs his biceps and shoulders, and his hair looks wet and tousled as if he’s been running his hands through it.
Not only that, but this garden would have taken so much work. I wave my hand out. “After this stunt, I think I just might be.”
“I might have to break things more often,” he quips, and I burst out laughing.
“Don’t you dare.” I look over the garden again, memories of planting the flowers with Axel and Betty making me feel warm and fuzzy. I lift my head. “Thank you, Jamie. You have no idea what this means to me… to us.”
“Yeah, I do. It’s written all over your face, and it makes me feel good knowing I’m the one who put that expression there.”
Oh fuck. Now he’s being sweet.
I pop a hip. “Want me to throw some sass to get us back to our normal?” I say with a sly grin. His gaze drops to my mouth. When I bite my lip to try and stop myself from squirming, he groans, shaking his head and meeting my eyes again.
“So you like it then?” he asks. That small hint of vulnerability he shows me threatens to be my undoing. I’m drawn to confidence. I’m drawn to a strong and intense man. I even get off on back-and-forth banter with a smartass—often infuriating—man. But absolutely indisputable is the fact that a woman like me will forget any reservations she may have had the moment she gets a glimpse of a soft spot beneath that hard, cocky exterior, especially one who makes it his mission to surprise her with the sole aim of making her smile.
“Come for dinner,” I blurt out, without analyzing the reason why I do it.
His lips curve into a lazy smile that any woman would walk over coals—or through her perfect new white-picket fence—to see every day for the rest of her life.
“Name the night, and I’m there, lovely.”
My eyes widen at the endearment, and it settles around me like a soft, fluffy blanket.
“You’re on,” I reply. His eyes turn warm, and his grin widens, flustering me even more.
Right, I need to get out of here before I jump the fence and him.
“Mooooommmyyyy…” I praise the lord for my son.
“Your master awaits,” Jamie says with a laugh.
“I’ll let you know about dinner.”
“I look forward to it,” he replies, his expression turning intense and hot, that soft fluffy blanket changing into a fiery inferno.
We stand there staring at each other, neither one of us saying a word, but that doesn’t mean we’re not communicating.
“Mom!”
“Right… um… yeah. I better go,” I say, hiding my awkwardness by looking down at my feet. “See you ’round,” I mutter before turning back toward the house.
“April,” he calls out just as my hand reaches my front door.
“Yeah?”
“Glad you like the garden.” Then he disappears out of sight and into his house.
As soon as I’m inside, Axel is at my side. “Mommy, did you see the garden and the fence?”
“I did, baby,” I say, running my fingers through his hair.
“Jamie’s awesome,” he continues, full of awe.
I don’t answer, but right now, I can’t say he’s wrong.
9
Jamie
I’m at Mom and Dad’s for dinner a few days later when I hear from April again.
April: Hi. It’s April. I saw you weren’t home, so I got your number from Betty. We wanted to invite you for dinner on Sunday if you were free.
Jamie: So I’m not the only one who’s sneaky? I’d love to come for dinner. Should I bring anything?
April: I can be crafty when I need to be. Just bring yourself and a healthy appetite. I’m known to make a LOT of food.
Jamie: I come from a family of five men. It’s eat first, or go hungry.
April: And I thought it was just six-year-olds who ate a lot.
Jamie: Axel will have nothing on me.
April: I’ll make sure I stock up then.
Jamie: What time should I head on over?
April: Maybe six? We’ll eat early because it’s a school night.
Jamie: Sounds good.
April: I’ll let you go. Have a good night.
Jamie: I’m just at my parents’ for dinner. Seems they’re not the only ones who take pity on the single man who sleeps on a mattress on the floor.
April: You sleep on the floor?
Jamie: There’s no point moving in completely when I’m just going to be out again in a few months.
She doesn’t reply again straight away, so I lift my head to meet the raised brows of my father and a knowing look from Mom.
“What?” I ask.
“You have a smile on your face,” Mom says.
“I do smile, Mom.”
“Not as much as you used to… when you were with—”
“It’s fine, Mom. I’m just arranging dinner at the neighbors’ house for Sunday. She invited me to say thank you for the garden.”
Mom shrieks and claps her hands. “Did you hear that, Rick?” she says, elbow-bumping Dad and earning a grunt. “The big gesture got him the girl!”
“Good job, son. Women love that shit.”
“Rick!” Mom’s bump turns into a jab.
“Wow, woman. What was that for?”
I chuckle, earning a sharp look from Mom. “I haven’t got the girl yet.”
“But you want to?”
I sigh, knowing Mom will not let it go unless I give her something to go on. ”I want to get to know her, yes.”
“Good on you,” Dad says. “Cohen says she’s a good-looking girl, and she has a son she looks after by herself?”
Apparently, Dad is just as much of a gossip as Mom.
“With her ex-mother-in-law too,” I say. Both of their heads jerk back.
“Sounds like there’s a story there,” Dad adds.
“That’s just one of the many things I’m looking forward to finding out,” I reply.
“Well if you need to build her another garden, let us know,” Mom says, making me smile. “Oh, this is so exciting.” She’s literally bouncing in her chair. “We could have another grandchild sooner rather than later.”
A strangled gasp escapes my throat. “Mom, I haven’t even asked her out yet.”
“Oh, I know. But a grandma can dream, can’t she?” She pauses and tilts her head. “What does her son call her mother-in-law? I can’t have the same nanna name as her; I’ll need to be called something different. Harry is too young to call me anything, but I was going to be Grandma. Maybe it’s not too late to change that.”
I send Dad a pleading look, which he thankfully doesn’t miss. “Marce, cool your jets. Besides, she might not even want to go out with him. She might shoot him down.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad,” I say.
He just laughs and settles back down to watch the Cubs game on TV. ”Anytime, son.” His wide grin tells me he’s totally talking out his ass.
I’m saved by another text.
April: So this is an ongoing thing for you? Flipping houses?
Jamie: Trying to make it into something, yeah.
April: What did you do before that?
Jamie: I was captain of a tourist boat.
April: Whoa. I wasn’t expecting that.
Jamie: Ha ha. What did you expect?
April: I’m not sure, but it definitely wasn’t that.
Jamie: What can I say? I’m full of surprises.
April: I’m starting to see that.
Fuck that feels good.
Sunday can’t come soon enough
Ten minutes after I’ve walked through April’s front door, Betty’s wide grin reminds me she only wants good things for her daughter-in-law, and the good thing she wants for her right now is me.
“Oh, Jamie, you’re just in time,” she says, ushering me inside.
I hand over a bottle of wine I bought—chosen with my sister, Abi’s, recommendation—and follow her deeper into the house. It’s the same original layout as my house, but definitely not in the same condition. Stopping in the open-plan living area, I can’t help but admire the fresh paint and overall family feel. Its soft fabrics and neutral walls, with splashes of bold colors in the furnishings, give me ideas for staging the house when the flip is complete. I was going to ask Mom and Abi to help me with the interior design side of things.
“I bet our house is a bit different from yours right now,” Betty says with a laugh. “Then again, we’re a few years ahead of you.”
I chuckle, grinning over at her. “Yeah, I’m aiming to do what you have done in three months.”
“Some would say you’re crazy.”
“I like to think of myself as ambitious. Besides, I’ve got three brothers, friends, and contractors.”
“That is very true,” she says warmly. “Now, can I get you a beer before I con you into manning the grill for us?”
“Sure. I’d love one. Thank you. And no conning needed; I’m world famous in the world of grilling.”
“World famous?” April asks, entering the room from the hallway as Betty leaves for the kitchen. If this house is the mirror image of mine, that would mean the master bedroom—provided that’s where she sleeps—is on the other side of the wall to my room. Damn, if that doesn’t give me some ideas.
I run my eyes down her body, taking in her light blue V-neck tee that hugs her curves and tight black jeans that almost look painted on. Her bare feet with red-painted toenails finish the relaxed-at-home vibe that I’m seriously digging right now.
When my gaze reaches her face again, I’m met with an amused smirk.
“You okay there, Jamie? Did you get your fill or should I walk out and come back in again?” She quirks a brow and shifts her weight to one side.
I open my mouth to tell her I’d be more than happy to take another look but I’m stopped by a running Axel slamming into my legs.
“You’re here. I’m so excited,” he says, jumping up and down. “Gran says I get to help you cook the meat on the grill. I never get to do that. That’s man stuff, right?”
“I think you’ll find girls can use a grill too, Axel,” April says, laughing as she comes closer.
The boy spins around to look up at his mom. “I know. But Gran said that Jamie will teach me some tricks.”
Her smile widens. “Okay. Well, why don’t you go into the kitchen and get the stuff from Gran, and I’ll show Jamie where the grill is.”
“Right on.” Then quick as the Flash on speed, he runs into the kitchen.
With Axel gone, it leaves the two of us standing there. There’s that same fire in her eyes that I’ve found myself craving to see, but there’s also a hint of trepidation, which is new. “Let me show you outside,” she says, rubbing her hands on her thighs.
“Are you still okay with me being here? I’d understand if you—”
Her head snaps up. “Oh, shit. No—I mean—yes, I’m totally okay with you being here. I mean, I invited you, and Axel and Betty love you, and I—”
“Hey, lovely,” I say, resting my hand on her arm, grabbing her attention. “Take a nice deep breath, then slowly let it out again.”
I watch as her eyes widen before going soft, her chest rising steadily as she does exactly what I suggested.
“Now, before you find your feisty streak again…” I say, and her soft eyes turn alert and narrow. I forge ahead, closing the distance between us as I hope to both distract her and keep her—just a little—off-kilter. “You look fucking fantastic tonight, and you’re lucky your son and Betty are here; otherwise this meal might have an entirely different outcome.”
Her mouth drops open with a quiet gasp before I watch in avid fascination as she squares her shoulders, and that sass that I like so much snaps back into place.
She leans forward, deep into my personal space as I hold my ground. It makes no sense, but I swear, I like April in my face almost as much as I like her nice and friendly.
“This is not a date,” she hisses.
I dip my head, bringing us even closer, her warm breath fanning across my lips and giving me enjoyable scenarios to consider enacting in this impromptu—albeit goaded—stand-off.
“No, if this was a date, there would be wining and dining followed by a whole lot of other things that I’ll leave you to think about for the rest of the night. Because while this may not be a date”—I fist my hands at my sides to stop from reaching out and pulling her hips against mine like every fiber in my being wants to do right now—”this is a precursor to one. Because there will be a date, there will be one-on-one time, and it will lead to us doing a whole lot of other things for you to think about.”
Then I step back and swing out a hand. ”After you…” I say. April’s dazed expression turns to confused interest—although she could also be plotting my murder, so there’s that. If that’s the case though, I’ll still take it as a win, because now I’ve planted the seed. If she’s thinking of ways to end me, at least it means she’s thinking about what I said.
“Jamie?” Axel says, running into the room and breaking the moment, and probably not too soon.
“Yeah, buddy?”
“We’ve got the hot dogs. Gran says you’ll know how to grill because you’re a big man with big hands, and when I’m a big man with big hands, I’ll need to know too.”
Betty comes up behind him, a beer bottle in one hand and barbecue utensils in the other. “If you take these, I’ll leave you boys to it. April and I can finish off the rest of the food inside.” She sends me a wink, and I catch April shaking her head at Betty.
“C’mon, Jamie,” Axel says, near-on dragging me outside.
“This is the grill,” he announces proudly. He places the packet of hot dogs on the table next to it before rubbing his chin and facing me. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“Of course I fu—very well do…” I say, trying to cover my cursing. Axel narrows his eyes at me just the way his mother does—it’s uncanny how similar it is—before yelling a quick “Wait there for a minute,” and disappearing into the house.
I watch through the glass patio door as he runs into the kitchen, waves his arms in the air as he talks to April about something, then reaches into a cupboard and returns outside a few moments later with a jar in his hand.
“You waited,” he says, sounding surprised.
“Where would I have gone? I’m not like Superman who can fly away,” I reply with a laugh.
“Superman is so old. Marvel is better. Mommy says so. So does my friend, Adrian at school.”
“Oh, really?” I say, nodding in agreement. I’m actually Switzerland when it comes to the whole DC versus Marvel debate, but Axel looks pretty into it, so I’ll agree with whatever he says if it avoids arguments. If I want to date his mom, it probably pays not to alienate her son over fictional superheroes.
I switch on the grill while Axel places the jar he grabbed onto the outdoor table. “What’s that, Ax?”
He tilts his head. ”Am I not your buddy anymore?” he asks, his expression unreadable. The carefree Axel has left the building.
“Of course. Why do you ask?”
“You called me Ax. That’s what Mommy and Gran call me. You always call me ‘buddy.’”
“Sh—shoot. I better call you buddy then.” That brings his smile back.
“Yay. So buddies give each other stuff, right?” he asks, reaching for the glass jar again and wrapping his little
hands around it.
Unsure of where he’s going with this, I decide to hedge my bets, nonchalant but also staying engaged and interested while I place the hotdogs on the heat. ”As long as their moms are okay with it, I guess. What’s up?”
He turns and holds out the jar for me, nodding down at it until I reach over and take it from him. “I wanted to give you this swear jar. Gran and I made it for Mommy, but she’s given enough money to it, so I asked her, and she said it would be a great idea for me to give it to you… since you sometimes say bad words when you don’t know I can hear you.”
My head snaps up to meet April’s dancing eyes through the glass. Both her and Betty are grinning like this is the funniest thing they’ve ever witnessed. If it had come from them, I might have been hell-bent on payback, but seeing the look of total sincerity in Axel’s eyes, I know there is absolutely no mischief in this gesture.
“I would love to take this jar home with me, buddy,” I say. “But you’re going to have to tell me what the going rate for swear jars is. I haven’t had one before.”
He rubs his chin in what I’m now seeing is his “big boy, thinking face.”
“I think one dollar a word would be fair,” he says, nodding in agreement at his own curse rate. Man, has inflation caused that or what?
“Wow. That’s a lot of money.”
“Mommy says it means people won’t wanna say curse words if they have to pay a lot for them.”
I drop my head forward and laugh. He’s so matter of fact. I actually wonder if he even has it in him to lie. “That’s very true.”
He looks to the sizzling grill then back to me. “Can I turn the hot dogs over now?”
“Sure thing, buddy. Let me show you how.”
During dinner, our conversation is dominated by Axel telling me everything and anything there is to know about LEGO, planes, trains, cars, and school. He tries to get me to pick a side in the superhero debate; you name it, that kid covers it. The only time he is quiet is when he’s shoving hot dogs and fries in his mouth and even then, us three adults take that time to also eat before preparing for the next deluge of questions. It is the most fun and relaxed dinner I’ve had in a long time. I can see just how much love there is in the house and just how much of an amazing mother April is. They have a good thing going on in this household—April and Betty are firm but fun, and man, they need a sense of humor with Axel around.