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“Me?”
“My landscaping,” she corrected, giving him a teasing look. “Thanks for helping. Your strong back has made mincemeat of getting this done.”
“I’m glad you let me help.”
“Me, too.” Taking a drink from her water bottle, she motioned to the remaining bag of mulch. “There’s only the one left. I think we’ll dump it in this side bed, and I’ll mulch what’s left of the back beds some other time.”
“Just let me know when and I’ll help.”
Rather than agree, she looked away, and seemed unsettled by his offer.
Fighting a sigh, because for every two steps forward she felt it necessary to take one back, he picked up the bag of mulch, tore the plastic open, and began sprinkling the mixture over the flowerbed she’d indicated.
While he did so Riley trimmed a bush, dropping the cut pieces into a previously emptied mulch bag.
A few minutes later, live music filled the air. “Your neighbors are throwing a party?” he asked.
She shook her head. “There’s a bandshell not far from here, in a small park. Local groups play there most weekends. Some are really good.”
“So you lie in that hammock and listen to your own private concert?”
“Sometimes.”
Her face said he’d hit on exactly what she often did. He’d thought as much. From the moment he’d stepped into her backyard he’d felt her presence, felt her connection to the retreat she’d created there.
“Is that where you were when we were texting the other night?”
She nodded. “I like being out there. Whether it’s the eucalyptus or just being outdoors, my backyard soothes me.”
“Now I understand why I couldn’t tempt you to my place. Your backyard is amazing.”
She beamed with pride. “It’s not big or fancy, but it’s home.”
And it was an extension of her. Strong, beautiful, yet promising a fantasy escape from reality.
“How long have you lived here?”
“A coworker and her husband owned it. I’d visited a few times they had get-togethers and always felt a connection here. I’d just gotten engaged when it went up for sale. Thinking it would be our first home, I put a big chunk of my savings into a down payment. Obviously, as I’m not married, the engagement didn’t work out...”
Had her voice broken a little just then?
“But I’ve no regrets on the house.”
She’d been engaged.
Justin had known she’d had a bad break-up, but no one had mentioned that she’d actually been engaged.
“I didn’t know you’d been engaged,” he said.
“Failed relationships aren’t exactly a priority conversation topic.” She sighed. “My break-up was rather traumatic,” she admitted.
Which made him wonder even more about the man she’d been engaged to but ultimately hadn’t married.
“But that relationship did make clear several truths—one of which you should probably know, as it seems I’m having trouble staying away from you and you seem set on our dating.”
She was considering dating him.
“I don’t plan to marry.”
