He nods. “I’ll call you.”
“Okay, then,” I mumble as I climb behind the wheel. I pull my seatbelt across my chest and start the van. He stands in the dirt driveway, watching as I drive away. Now that the sun is higher in the sky and most of the morning dew has dried, a thick cloud of dust follows along behind the van.
I wonder why he seemed so awkward there at the end. Did he not want to get in the van with me? Does he think I’m a bad driver or that I’m going to kidnap him or something? I laugh and shake my head at the thought of me trying to kidnap him.
Bryce and I drive back into town and stop at the local hardware store. We go inside and are welcomed immediately. I smile and wave at the man behind the counter but continue walking to the paint sample wall in the back. Coming to a stop, I glance at all the different colors.
“What do you think, Bryce?”
“That one.” He point at a Ninja Turtle Green.
I laugh. “Okay, you’re no longer allowed to help with paint.”
He shrugs like it doesn’t faze him and I continue looking.
I grab a sample for a classic white, ivory white, eggshell white, and then move onto the creams and tans. After I have about ten little paint can samples, I toss them into a basket and move on. We walk up and down the aisles, just looking and wasting time. I grab a paint brush and some paint thinner and take everything up to the counter. The cashier begins ringing everything up.
“You new to town?” he asks, eyeing me suspiciously.
I nod as I search through my purse for my wallet. “Yep. I purchased that old farmhouse out on Madison Lane.”
He nods. “Oh, okay. It’s been a while since anyone lived there. You’re going to need a whole lot more than these little samples,” he jokes.
I laugh, not that it’s funny but to be polite. “Well, first I have to settle on a color.”
“Hey, little man. You want a sucker?” the guy asks Bryce. He grabs a jar from behind the register and holds it out for him.
Bryce looks at me, and I give him an approving nod.
“Thank you,” he tells him.
The man smiles. “Polite kid.” He places the jar back to where he got it and taps a button on the register. “That’ll be sixteen fifty-four.”
I dig through my wallet until I find a twenty, and I pass it over. The man quickly counts out my change and hands me my bag of supplies. “Have a good day. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again. You have your work cut out for you with that place.”
I take the items and wave as I take Bryce’s hand and lead him from the store. He runs to the van and climbs inside.
“Where we going now, Mommy?” he asks, buckling his seatbelt.
“We’re going to go see about a daycare for you for the summer.”
“Daycare?” he asks. “Like that place that Aiden used to go to when his mommy was at work?”
“Exactly.”
“Are you going to start working now?”
“I’m going help Mr. Slade work on our house. It’s too dangerous for you to be there while the work is going on. You could get hurt.”
“Will there be other kids to play with?”
“I bet there will be,” I reply, shifting into drive and pulling out onto the two-lane road.
I drive east for a mile, and the daycare is to my right. It’s a big pole barn type building made out of red metal. It has a white metal roof that overhangs on the front to cover the entrance from the weather. Around the side of the building is a white wooden privacy fence. I can hear children playing behind it. I open the door, and Bryce runs in ahead of me.
“Good afternoon. Welcome to Little Tikes Play Palace,” a woman behind the counter says.
I smile. “Hi. We just moved into town and I’m looking for a place for my son until school starts.”
“Okay, let me get you some brochures.” She reaches behind the counter and pulls out a folder. “How old is your son?”
“He’s five.”
“We have three other children here that he will be going to kindergarten with in the fall.” She walks out from behind the counter and kneels down to his level. “Hi, I’m Sheri. What’s your name?”
“Bryce Delaney,” he replies.
She holds out her hand and he shakes it. “It’s nice to meet you. Why don’t you run along and play while I talk to your mommy.”
Without another word, he takes off toward the lego section.
Sheri stands and turns toward me. “Okay, let’s take a tour, shall we?”
The room is large and sectioned off by bookcases, cubbies, and cubicles.
“Over here is where the older children like Bryce will be. It has Legos, an art center, and all kinds of toys. The middle section over there is for our toddlers, and the closest to the wall over there is the infant section. In the middle here is where we set up breakfast, lunch, and snack time. We also have scheduled activities like reading time. We do arts and crafts every day to help with motor skills. All the children are currently outside since it’s such a nice day. Would you like to see the playground?”
I agree and she walks me out. There’s everything you could imagine. There are slides, swings, monkey bars, playhouses, bikes, scooters, and sensory tables. There are probably fifteen kids total outside with three adults playing with them and watching to make sure they all behave.
“If you want to follow me back inside, I can show you the kitchen where we prepare the meals.”
The place is clean and nice. Everything seems to have its place, and everyone is friendly and welcoming. I love that they have a set schedule for the kids instead of just letting them run until it’s time for them to go home. Bryce and I hang out a while. He joins in their snack time and then continues to play with the other children his age while I go over some paperwork and get him signed up.
It’s going on dinner time when we’re leaving. I open the door and he climbs inside. “What do you want for dinner tonight?”
“Chicken strips and French fries,” he replies. “And chocolate milk!” Can’t forget the chocolate milk. I swear the kid could live off the stuff.
“To the diner we go.” I climb behind the wheel and back out of the parking lot, heading for the diner.
6
Clay
“I bet Tessa isn’t going to be happy,” Jerry says, plopping down on my tailgate and grabbing an apple out of my cooler.
“What do you mean?” I ask, tossing a baby carrot into my mouth.
“I mean, it sounds like you got this new woman in your sights. Tessa is used to being the only woman you see.”
I laugh. “I don’t have anyone in my sights. You couldn’t be any further off.”
He snorts. “Then why didn’t you get in the van with her?”
“What?” I jerk my head toward him. He’s fucking smirking, enjoying my annoyance. “Because there was no point. With no water or power, trying to get started would be impossible.”
He nods. “Riiiight.”
“Shut the fuck up.” I shove his bicep, causing him to fall over slightly. “And give me my apple.” I take it from his hands and throw it into the distance.
“Hey,” he whines.
“Next time, be more supportive.”
He rolls his eyes, but he can’t hold back the laugh. “So what did Tessa have to say? Did you tell her yet?”
“Tell her what?”
“That you want to break things off so you can start something up with this new woman.”
“What? No! I’m not starting anything with anyone. Plain and simple. This woman has a son. A little son. No way am I going to force myself into their life when I have no intention of staying. That’s why Tessa and I have such a good thing going. Her son is older. He doesn’t even know about me and soon, he’ll be going off to college anyway. No complications.”
“So you’re just going to ignore your attraction to Autumn then?”
“Damn straight.”
He shakes his head and stands up. “That is sure to
backfire, my friend.” Without another word, he walks toward the ranch house we’re working on.
Is he right? Am I going to fail miserably? I don’t think so. I’m not a weak man. I’m not the type that finds a beautiful woman and suddenly loses all control. I laugh at my two brothers who have gone through that. I’m nothing like them. I will keep myself guarded. I will keep my distance. And I will finish this job without ever feeling her against me.
It takes about a week before the house is inspected and the water and power are turned on. I pack up my truck with the items I’ll need for the day, leaving the trailer with the other guys to finish up the ranch house. I know I should, but I don’t bother calling Autumn. I know I said I would, but this will go so much quicker without her.
When I pull into the dirt drive, I find that Autumn has already been here. The front yard has been mowed, bricks have been laid down for a sidewalk, and she’s planting flowers and shrubs in front of the porch now. She’s down on her hands and knees, perched on a piece of foam. She’s wearing a pair of short jean shorts that are frayed on the ends. They hug her round ass nicely.
She looks over her shoulder and finds me behind the wheel of the truck, staring. She offers a small grin and waves her dirty, gloved hand in my direction.
I climb out and head over.
“What do you think so far?”
I nod and look at all her hard work. “Looks good. You did all of this yourself?”
She nods and stands up, removing her gloves. It’s only now that I take her in fully. She’s wearing a white White Sox T-shirt. It’s old and thin, allowing me to see the faintest outline of her white bra beneath it. I’m sure she chose it because she didn’t care to ruin it, but damn, I wonder if she knew how badly this would tease me. She has it tied up just above her belly button, giving a slight glimpse of her toned, flat, tanned stomach. Her dark hair is pulled into a messy bun, that’s sticking out the hole in the back of her hat. Her face is completely bare of makeup, something I find refreshing in a world where almost every woman cakes their face in it. There’s the slightest glimmer of sweat peppering her skin, making it light up and shine.
“It was nothing. I always did the yard work back home.”
“In Ohio?” I ask.
She quickly nods once and then changes the subject. “I was hoping that planting these wouldn’t mess with any of your plans. You think they’ll be okay?”
I look at the line of shrubs and flowers. “I’m sure we can avoid them if need be. You know, I would’ve helped had I known you’d been out here working.”
She waves me off. “I’m too impatient to wait for anyone else. I need this place done. So I just made a list of things I could do without power and water.” She moves her head from side to side. “I’ve been watering them with bottled water. I’ve been thinking that it would be super cute if we could fence in the front yard with a white picket fence. Then do an archway over the sidewalk? What do you think?” She looks at me, squinting at the bright sun.
I nod. “Yeah, sounds good. You’ll need a sign too. I’ll get the guys started on it as soon as they finish up their current project. Anyway, I got all the paint supplies if you want to get started. Did you pick out the color paint you want?”
“Follow me.” She starts toward the house.
I follow her into the living room and on the largest wall, she has painted squares in a variety of colors.
“What do you think? I want it to be clean and crisp and classy, but I don’t want it to be blinding white either. I was thinking this eggshell looked good, but I don’t know.”
I look at each of the colors. The eggshell is a nice off-white color, but damn near white. In fact, it would look white if it wasn’t for the bright white painted next to it.
“I like this one,” I say, pointing to a very light cream color.
“That’s Sandy Beach. I liked it too.”
“I think it will look nice next to the dark walnut colored trim. It will be a stark contrast.”
“Okay, Sandy Beach it is. I’ll run to town and grab the paint, and you can get everything set up while I’m gone. It should only take a few minutes.” She quickly leaves the house, and I’m left wondering how she’s the one to call the shots.
While she’s gone, I toss out the tarp and get everything ready to go. I check the water in the kitchen and the hose on the side of the house. The water is clean, to my surprise. I was expecting rusty water, considering the pipes in this place have to be pretty old. As I’m walking around the house, I find her van back in the drive. I walk over and take the two gallons of paint she’s holding.
“I figured we’d probably end up painting most of the house this color, so I got plenty.”
I look into the back of the van and see a total of six gallons. I take two more and she carries the final two into the house.
“Everything is set up and ready to go. Are you a roller or a trimmer?” I ask, setting the four gallons of paint in the floor.
She scrunches up her nose and places her hands on her hips. “Either, I guess.” She shrugs.
I hand her the roller and I keep the brush to do the trim, considering I have more practice with this sort of thing.
By the time I manage to have the trim taped off, she’s managed to paint the entire room, all but about an inch above and blow the trim.
“Damn, I didn’t realize you were a speed painter,” I joke, bending down and picking up the brush to start painting. “This would’ve been a lot faster had I brought the spray gun.”
“You have a spray gun?” she asks, almost sounding annoyed.
I laugh. “I do, but the guys are using it at the ranch house. They’re on the home stretch, so this will probably be the only room we have to paint without it.”
“Got another brush? I’ll help you trim.” She places the roller onto the paint pan.
I nod toward the bag in the corner of the room and get started.
As we paint, I can’t keep my eyes to myself. I can’t help but watch as she crouches down low, bends over, and crawls along the wall to paint the bottom trim. Her long, tanned legs and round ass tease me all damn day.
The sun is just starting to go down when we’re finishing up. I head outside to wash everything out with the hose and when I walk back in, she’s standing in the middle of the room, taking in all our hard work.
I freeze when her eyes land on mine. I can see something burning beneath them. If I’m right, it’s lust.
“I love it,” she breathes out. Her plump lips are parted, and her chest is rising and falling quickly. I feel this tug in my lower stomach, pulling me toward her. It feels like we’re connected by an elastic band. The harder I fight against it, the tighter the hold becomes.
I clear my throat, which was growing thick with need. “Just wait until the fireplace and floor are all shined up.” I bend down and set the clean paint pan and brushes down.
“It can’t get here fast enough.” She slides her hands into her back pockets and walks out. I follow her and I take a seat on the porch.
“Want some iced tea?”
“Sure.” She sits next to me. Keeping her feet on the step beneath her, she rests her elbows on her bent knees.
I grab a paper cup out of the stack on the side of the cooler and get out the gallon jug. I fill two cups and hand her one.
She takes a sip. “Mmm, this is good. Did you make it?”
I nod. “I make a gallon every evening.” I turn and open the cooler back up. I pull out two sandwiches. I hold one out and she takes it. I watch as she takes a bite.
“Your wife is a lucky woman.” She nods while chewing her bite.
I chuckle around a bite. “I’m not married.”
“Oh, I just assumed a good-looking, hardworking guy like you would be taken.” I see her cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink. Is she hitting on me? Naaah, there’s no way a beautiful woman like her could be interested in a guy like me.
“No, it’s never been in the cards for me.”
>
“Why not?” She cocks her head to the side as her eyes study me.
I clear my throat and pull my eyes from hers, unsure of how to answer her.
“That’s none of my business. I’m sorry for being so forward.”
I wave her off. “Don’t worry about it.” I take a bite of my sandwich and slowly chew it. “The fireplace has been inspected. Tomorrow, we can do the second coat of paint, polish up the fireplace, and start on the floor.”
She smiles sweetly. “Thanks for letting me help. It really means a lot. I know how much of a hassle this has to be for you.”
I shrug, trying to remain nonchalant “It’s nothing.”
There’s a long drawn out silence, and it feels like something is being exchanged between us. Friendship? Understanding? I’m not sure, but it feels as if we’re connecting on a deeper level—a level that has far surpassed where I thought we’d ever be. Deep down, this worries me, but it also fills me with a warmth I don’t understand.
Most of my life has been spent trying to avoid relationships and deep connections. I saw the way losing my mom ate at my dad—so much so that he’s no longer the man I once knew. I never want to be that dependent on another person. Maybe this warmth is the first sign of a connection. A connection I don’t want.
She somehow picks up on my internal struggle. She offers up a weak smile. “Well, thanks for the sandwich and all your work today. I really need to go pick up my son from daycare.” She stands up. She’s holding her paper cup and plastic sandwich bag in one hand and holds the other one out to shake.
I put my hand inside of hers and once again, those tingles take over. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
She nods. “First thing.” Without another word, she takes her hand and turns for the van. I stand there, watching her drive away.
Fuck, she’s beautiful. How am I going to hold myself back? Well, I know one thing: checking her out every time she bends over isn’t going to help anything. I need to keep my eyes to myself and my hands off of her. She’s too complicated for me—too much work and trouble.
Baby Secret (Slade Brothers Book 3) Page 4