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“I’ll go and grab some, fill ‘er up and finish this job. For you, but mostly for the lawn that’s just trying to survive,” Kace smirked.
Friendly. Funny. Who the fuck was this guy?
“That’s not necessary,” I argued, not hiding the irritation in my voice. “I’m more than capable.”
“I’m sure you are,” he agreed, lying expertly. “This isn’t some alpha crap where I don’t think a woman can do the work. It’s just I know for a fact that Cade would reem me out for driving past, seeing you doing this shit and taking no for an answer. Especially when my Sunday afternoon plans include a cold beer, a football game and not much else.” He paused and I took the time to drink him in.
He was taller than me, though that wasn’t hard since most of these men were over six foot and I was only five six. Muscles, but of course. Vibrant tattoos covering one of his sinewy arms. Hair long enough to almost brush his shoulders if it were down. But he’d slung it back into a messy bun at the nape of his neck.
I was not a fan of the man bun. At least, not before this moment.
“Now I can see you’re rearing up to argue with me,” Kace said. “I bet you’re damn good at it too. But I’ll let you in on a secret.” He leaned in, and I held my breath, not wanting to smell him, and I could only imagine what he was smelling on me. “I’m damn good at it too. And as I mentioned before, I don’t have any plans, so I’ve got all the time in the world to stand here and argue with you.”
I stared at him. This man I’d met once. Who had shared personal information with me because he felt it was only fair since he knew my shit. Who’d stopped his bike on his way home to drink and do nothing in order to argue with me about mowing some lawn.
The nerve.
Seriously. Who did he think he was?
I’d been geared up to argue with him. I really had. On principle mostly, and also because I couldn’t face the fact that I’d failed at being two parents before I’d even really began. Fighting back was what I should’ve done. Should’ve straightened my spine, jutted out my chin and assumed the female battle stance.
But I was tired. Tired in every way a person could be tired. I did not feel like fighting this stranger in the middle of my half—okay, quarter—mowed yard in the ninety-degree heat. Nor did I particularly want to finish mowing this lawn after a fight with this stranger.
So I sighed and stepped back. “Whatever. If you want to waste your Sunday, be my guest.” I paused, wiping sweat from my brow. “Just know this is not me approving a male coming in to take over a job that I’m totally capable of finishing. It’s me realizing that my children have been far too quiet, which worries me, and I fucking hate mowing the grass.”
I shouldn’t have relented, but I was tired. To my bones. And I didn’t have the energy to fight this man, especially when it was clear he was up for a fight.
“Not putting any strings on it, just bein’ a good neighbor,” he responded.
I raised my brow. “Uh huh.”
He chuckled. “Go on in, and give yourself a break, investigate those all too quiet children.”
I stared at him for a beat longer, trying to understand his motivations for doing this. For talking to me that night at the club. There was no way he was doing it out of the goodness of his heart.
“I’m not sleeping with you,” I blurted.
His eyes bugged out ever so slightly. “Well, I didn’t offer it, so stand down. I’m not here for you to sexually objectify me. I’m just tryin’ to do a good deed.”
“No man ever just tries to do a good deed,” I returned.
“Well, I guess I’m gonna have to prove you wrong. For now, I’m gonna mow your grass.”
I didn’t believe him. But I also didn’t want to stand out there arguing with him. So I didn’t. Instead, I turned on my heel and walked back into my house.“Mom, who is the man mowing our grass?” Lily asked as I emerged from my room, freshly showered and in a light sundress. Not because Kace was here, but because I didn’t want to look pathetic wearing Ranger’s tees when I encountered him again. Didn’t want him to look at me in pity.
“He’s wearing a cut,” Jack observed, peering out the window like his sister was, although his gaze was slightly more guarded. My son had only seen one man in a Sons of Templar cut mow his front lawn. His father. And he hadn’t actually worn his cut while mowing, but whatever.
