Georgia Pine (Southern Promises Book 3)

by K. G. Fletcher

  Tim genuinely liked Mr. Hernandez. He was an immigrant from Mexico, entering the United States as a young boy when his parents illegally crossed the Texas border. They wanted a new and better life for their family. Tim loved hearing Martin’s tenacious tale of determination and hard work, learning English and gaining his citizenship. The enthusiasm Martin showed would make any American heart swell with pride. He’d helped his parents start the now profitable and reliable landscape company. Since coming to America in the late eighties, the entire family had gone through the process of becoming U.S. citizens. They were legally allowed to be here and work as hard as they wanted for their American dream. Unfortunately, there were those highfalutin folks who assumed the Hernandez family were illegals. This enraged Tim. Martin had to verify citizenship on more than one occasion, always proving the judgmental cocksuckers wrong. He was proud of the entire Hernandez clan and what they had accomplished over the years. They reminded him of the multiple Mexican families that tended his family’s almond farm back in the day—hard-working men and women who were loyal and who he considered part of his own family.

  The Hernandez company was one of a handful of landscape vendors approved to do business in the upper-class, gated community. Most households who employed Martin and his crew never complained and were more than satisfied with their stellar work. Bringing Tim on board a year and a half ago was a fluke as Martin had only ever used his own family members or day laborers for bigger jobs. Tim had never worked in landscaping but was willing and able to take on the dirty work—anything to get him out of the house and keep his mind off what he had lost. His Spanish speaking skills clinched the deal, and Martin gave Tim a shot. He’d been a team player ever since.

  Using his sharpened pruners, Tim was careful as he cut back the prize rose bushes of Mrs. McDonald the way she had shown him. An abundance of gorgeous flowering blooms, some of which were larger than Tim’s fist, were on full display in the pretty garden. She had instructed him to cut the largest blooms first and place them in a utility bucket she kept on the porch so she could arrange them later in her home or donate them to the fancy tables at their country club. As fast as these flowers bloomed, Tim often wondered if her home resembled a florist shop, overrun with roses on every available surface.

  Mrs. McDonald was an elderly woman in her late-seventies—one of the nicest clients he tended. It never failed, if she were home and would see him in the backyard, she’d bring out a tall glass of her famous sweet tea and offer it to him. They usually chatted about the weather or how she had learned a new trick from her bridge group how to keep the aphids off the delicate petals of her prize flowers. Hers was the prettiest garden in the neighborhood, by far. Probably because it wasn’t just for show—she actually spent time tending to it.

  Sure enough, when he was three-quarters of the way done, and the utility bucket was overflowing with fantastic roses in a variety of colors, Mrs. McDonald opened the back-porch door, holding a glass of tea in her gnarled hands.

  “Good morning, Tim. I thought you could use a cold beverage. It’s turning out to be a scorcher today.” Her accent was more Carolina based, smooth and distinct.

  Taking off his gloves, he smiled at the old lady and reached for the drink. “Thank you, Mrs. McDonald. You must have read my mind.” He took a large swig of the sweet tea and swallowed. “Martin told me you’d be home today while I pruned.”

  She nodded and fanned her hand out, offering him a seat. The two chatted under the shade of her porch as a large ceiling fan twirled the hot air above them. The elderly woman was a widow, her husband Henry passing a few months before Tim started working in her garden. There was always a Henry story she was eager to share as well as the latest pictures of her two adorable grandchildren who lived in Florida. Today, it was a picture her youngest grandson had sent in the mail—a scribbled mess of an assortment of colors on a thin page from a Superman coloring book.

  “He’s in a superhero phase right now. The red cape I sent this past Christmas rarely stays off his little body.”

  Tim chuckled, setting his empty glass on a side table, the remaining ice clinking in the bottom of the glass. “Well, what little boy doesn’t like a superhero?” He started to stand. “Thank you so much for the tea, Mrs. McDonald. That really hit the spot.”

  “You’re very welcome.”

  “Your flowers are popping like crazy. What have you been doing to them?” He towered over the small woman who looked up at him with a cheeky smile.

  “Coffee grounds and egg shells. I think the heat has something to do with it too. I’ve never seen so many beautiful colors!” She turned and looked at the bucket overflowing with roses and shook her head. “Oh, my. What am I going to do with so many flowers? Tim, I can’t possibly use all these, and I certainly don’t want them to go to waste. Please, take a handful home. You can put them in a vase and enjoy them for a time. The scent is wonderful.”

  Tim glanced at the bounty of flowers and was about to decline when an idea formed in his mind, making him smile. “I think I’ll take you up on that, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”

  Mrs. McDonald’s face lit up with pleasure. “I don’t mind at all! I insist!”

  ***

  “Well, you need to check your calendar so we can get a date nailed down. We have got to celebrate, Jessica! You’ve been through the wringer, and you need a night on the town. We can have a few cocktails, a little dinner, and maybe check out the handsome single fellas at Johnny’s Hideaway…”

  “Oh, god no!” Jessica laughed. Hooking up with a desperate middle-aged man at the infamous Johnny’s Hideaway was a horrible idea. Still, she couldn’t help but smile; glad her best friend, Elizabeth Rich, had her back.

  “Well, it’s just a thought.” Elizabeth patted Jessica on her thigh. She stood and held her Chanel handbag in the crook of her bent elbow. “I’ve got to pick up Mulligan from the groomers, otherwise we’d be cracking open a bottle of champagne to celebrate.”

  “In the middle of the day?” Jessica shook her head, humored by her childless, ultra-chic friend. Champagne during the day was probably something Elizabeth engaged in on a regular basis.

  Her friend air-kissed her on both cheeks, her expensive lipstick looking freshly applied. “You relax now, you hear? This is all behind you. The sky’s the limit.”

  The sound of the doorbell interrupted Elizabeth’s pep talk, both women looking toward the front door. “You expectin’ anyone?” Her Southern voice was high but inquisitive as she quickly took a compact out of her purse and opened it, lightly tapping her perfect nose with the tiny powder puff.

  “No.” Jessica frowned and wondered who might be coming by this time of day. The last time her doorbell rang, it was the courier delivering her divorce papers.

  The girls were upstairs in the playroom, and baby Jo-Jo was taking her afternoon nap. Jessica’s bare feet slapped on the travertine tile as she approached the elaborate front door where she could see the outline of a giant figure standing outside the beveled, etched glass. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized who it was.

  “Hey there.” She smiled, opening the door wide. Tim McGill stood before her with his hands behind his back. Dressed in his landscape uniform, his rugged good looks and piercing green eyes took her breath away. She immediately noticed he had cleaned up his beard, the lines around his face more defined with shorter tighter whiskers making him look—cleaner. The look on his face was magnetic as she self-consciously smoothed her long blonde hair away from her cheek.

  “You stopping by to check in on us like you promised? Make sure the haggard mother-of-four isn’t holed up in the pantry stuffing her face with cookies?” She giggled and he laughed.

  “Who’s at the door, Jessica?” Elizabeth sing-songed before her eyes grew wide with recognition as she walked toward them. “Why, Tim McGill. How are you?” She cocked her head while resting a hand on her hip with an eyebrow raised.

  “Hello, Mrs. Rich. I’m well, thanks. Did you ever get
that dead tree out of your backyard?”

  “Hmmm…we sure did. I was just leaving, so I’ll leave you two to have at it.” Elizabeth kissed Jessica on the cheek, this time leaving a light pink lip stamp on her cheek. “I have an even better idea how you can celebrate sweet girl…,” she whispered excitedly in Jessica’s ear.

  “Elizabeth!” Jessica chastised, gritting her teeth so she wouldn’t smile. She knew precisely what Elizabeth had in mind, her best friend a devoted reader of the most scandalous, erotica romance novels ever written. Lying poolside on the hottest summer days, Elizabeth would humorously read aloud the most sensual sex scenes from her naughty books, purposefully making Jessica blush. She was sure her bestie was conjuring up an illicit affair between her and the yardman as she walked to her car.

  “Y’all take care!” She waved over her shoulder and Jessica could swear she was sashaying her hips on purpose before she slid into her candy-apple red Mercedes convertible and sped off.

  “Sorry about that. She can get a little cheeky sometimes.”

  “I don’t mind. I’m glad you had some company today. Sorry if I interrupted.”

  “No. No, you didn’t interrupt. Elizabeth was trying to get me to commit to a night at Johnny’s Hideaway. Believe me, I’m happy you came by and saved the day,” she giggled.

  Tim’s eyes glistened as he shifted his stance on the front porch. “Well, I don’t know what Johnny’s Hideaway is, but I’m glad I could help. I did stop by to check in on you. And to give you these.” He brought his arms out from behind his body, clasping large, fully bloomed pink roses in his hands.

  Jessica gasped. “Oh, my goodness. They’re beautiful! And they’re pink!” She looked up at him. “Pink is my favorite color. How did you know?”

  He chuckled. “I took a wild guess.”

  She leaned over the flowers he was holding and deeply inhaled. When she looked up again and smiled, she realized Tim had been standing on the front stoop in the heat of the day. Quickly, she gathered her wits. “Where are my manners? Please, come in out of the heat.”

  He walked past her in a whoosh of manliness, his tanned skin smelling of sun and fresh cut grass. “I clipped off the thorns so they wouldn’t poke you or your girls. They’re from Mrs. McDonald’s garden. She insisted I take some. I swear, she could open her own flower shop with all the blooms she’s got goin’ on.” He offered her the bouquet, which she took and inhaled the flowery scent again.

  “Oh, Tim, they’re just heavenly. Thank you so much for thinking of us. I know Mrs. McDonald very well. She’s on the beautification committee with me. She also donates a lot of her flowers to the club. She’s a dear.” They walked into the kitchen, and she opened the cupboard above the refrigerator and stood on her tiptoes, not quite tall enough to reach the clear vase on the shelf. As if sensing her struggle, Tim effortlessly reached above her head and brought it down.

  “Thank you,” she said, looking up at him with wide eyes. His stature was as tall as a tree; a mountain of a man. Her eyes followed the flex and twitch of muscle up his biceps and across his chest, one setting off the next.

  “You’re welcome.”

  She filled the vase at the sink, aware of him watching her.

  “Where are the girls?”

  “Jo-Jo and Jill are napping, and the other two are in the playroom, no doubt setting up an elaborate scene playing school or god-knows-what.” She placed the flowers one by one in the vase and grinned, admiring each special bloom. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No thanks.”

  They were silent for the next minute, awkwardly eyeing each other. Jessica fussed with the arrangement before she was satisfied and placed it on the center of the island. It had been a very long time since a man had given her flowers.

  “Thanks again for these. I can’t get over how pretty they are. This whole room smells wonderful.”

  “Yeah, Mrs. McDonald sure knows how to grow them.” He tucked his hands into his pants hooking his thumbs over the pockets. “Well, I just wanted to stop by and see how you’re doing.” He paused. “And by the way, you look great. You seem happier. Not as sad as yesterday.”

  Jessica felt her cheeks grow hot and couldn’t help but smile. First flowers, now a compliment. She absentmindedly smoothed the front of the long floral maxi-dress she wore.

  “Thank you,” she replied uncomfortably, feeling the heat cross her face. Her cheeks weren’t the only part of her composition that was hot.

  “Do you want to stay for dinner?” she blurted, suddenly not wanting him to leave.

  His green eyes grew large as a smile spread across his handsome hairy face.

  “I mean, I was planning on grilling some burgers and hot dogs for the girls, anyway. I thought Elizabeth was going to be able to hang, but her husband gets back from France tonight. I’ve got more than enough—and I’m sure the girls would love to see you again, that is, if you don’t have any plans later and would even like hanging out with a divorcee and her four daughters…” Tim slowly approached her while she rambled on and on until he was dangerously close and confidently placed two fingers over her lips, making her stop mid-sentence. Her heart flipped in her chest from his touch.

  “I’d love to.”

  Before she could respond, Jennifer, Jill, and Julia burst into the kitchen, screaming joyfully, “Tim! Tim!” They wrapped their arms around his tree-trunk legs and hugged him fiercely. Jessica bit her lip, feeling all sorts of emotions. If her daughters would have done that to Stephen the minute he walked in from work, he’d scold them, telling them he needed his “down time” after such a long day, retreating to the bar in the basement to sip on his favorite expensive whiskey alone. Tim eagerly hugged them back, kneeling to their level so he could look them in the eye.

  “Hey there! You been taking good care of your mama like we talked about?”

  “Yes, sir,” Jennifer replied while the other two nodded energetically. “We’ve been picking up our toys, and I even helped take out the garbage.”

  “I helped too!” Jilly whined while rubbing her eyes as she tried to wake up from her nap.

  Tim turned his attention to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. “You did? What did you do, Jilly?” Jessica was shocked he remembered her name. No one ever remembered her daughters’ names, the repetitive J-names confusing most.

  “I ated all my cereal.”

  “You did?”

  The little girl nodded.

  “Wow! I’m so proud of you.” He turned to her quiet daughter. “And what about you, Julia? Have you been helping your mama today?”

  The shy little girl nodded, and Jessica was moved when Tim brushed the knuckle of his index finger across her cheek. “Good girl.” When he stood, the girls clamored to hold his hands. He seemed pleased by all the attention.

  “I think they like you,” Jessica giggled, folding her arms across her chest in awe.

  The way he looked back at her while her daughters surrounded him caused a shift in the energy in the room as a surge of happiness washed over her. There was a real man in her house—and he was staying for dinner.

  Chapter Five

  The heat of the Georgia summer day maxed out in the late afternoon, and the six of them took refuge in the refreshing pool before dinner. Jessica laughed while she watched her daughters splash in the shallow end, having more fun than she’d had in a very long time. Tim was great with them, tossing each child into the air and making them squeal with delight when they came up for air. He told her how impressed he was that they could swim so well. Jessica told him all the girls had had swim lessons when they were just babies. Having a pool in the backyard required a lot of responsibility, her daughters’ safety her number one priority. Even baby Jo-Jo was in the learning process with a private teacher who came to the house once a week, the tiny toddler easily flipping over to her back and floating effortlessly among applause and encouragement from her family.

  Tim bobbed up and down in the water and didn’t seem to
mind the children hanging all over him. He was a gorgeous specimen of a man. When Jessica suggested they go for a swim, he didn’t hesitate and let her know he always kept an extra set of clothes and a pair of swim trunks in his truck. He changed in the guest bathroom near the kitchen, and when he came out, Jessica felt weak in the knees as she took in the images of his glorious abs and broad shoulders. She thought to herself that he must work out all the time to have a body like that. He couldn’t have gotten those kinds of muscles from being a gardener, could he? His was the physique of an athlete or bodybuilder, and she was curious to know what he did to maintain his build. She was also curious to know about the elaborate tattoo on his right arm Julia seemed fascinated with. The little girl traced her fingers over it several times while he held her in his arms in the water.

  Dressed in a modest bathing suit, Jessica hesitated before she came outside. Being in front of her kids was one thing, but being in front of a man who had a love for physical conditioning had her nerves on edge. The pink one-piece hid her most vulnerable areas that seemed to highlight the years of being pregnant. Once upon a time, she took pride in wearing the tiniest of bikinis, showing off her former hot body. But that was many years ago, and workouts she used to take pleasure in were hard to come by.

  Sitting on the edge of the pool with a towel wrapped around her waist, she lazily kicked her legs back and forth and watched Tim play in the water with her children. Jo-Jo hung out next to her in a baby-floaty with a miniature umbrella shading her face from the late afternoon sun.

  “Tim! Watch this one!” Jennifer confidently jumped off the side, executing a perfect cannonball while Julia hung off Tim’s back. Jilly was off in her own little world in the shallow end diving for treasure, the large pool goggles she wore humorous on her tiny head.

  “Whoa! You got me soaked with that one!” His hair was tied up on his head, his beard glistening with droplets of pool water, catching the light of the brilliant summer sun.