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“No problem,” he says.
“So, are you in the military? What are all those muscles for?”
He chuckles. “I’m a police sergeant.”
“Oh wow. That’s good to know. I swear to drunk ociffer, I’m not God.” She giggles and I just know he’s falling in love on the spot. She’s cute and one hundred percent his type.
“What do you do?” he asks.
“I’m a nurse.”
Match made in heaven. Did I just meet my future sister-in-law? She reappears in the hallway, and he follows.
“What hospital are you at?” he asks.
“Oh, I’m not a traditional nurse. I work at a biotech company. We help with patient trials.”
“That sounds interesting.”
“Oh, it is.”
He chuckles and checks out her ass as he follows her out the front door.
“What do you do, Liv?” Sylvie asks once we reach the truck. John stacks a couple of boxes and takes them inside.
“I’m a receptionist at a law firm.”
“Oh wow. I bet you hear some interesting stuff.”
“I sure do.”
We both laugh. Less than half an hour later, the truck is unloaded, and John pulls the door closed. She beams up at him as he secures the latch.
“Well, you sure come in handy.”
“Let me know if you need help with anything else.” He grins at her and her cheeks tint to a light pink color.
“You guys are so nice. Thank you so much for your help."
“Of course. Welcome to the neighborhood,” I say.
“It was great to meet you,” she looks at John when she says it.
“You too.” He grins at her with a brief wave as we return to his house. John steps up to the lawnmower and sighs, running a hand down his face.
“You did good.”
He eyes me and puts his aviator sunglasses on and readjusts his ball cap. “Don’t meddle Liv.”
I snort. “No thanks.”
He laughs and shoves my shoulder. It’s gentle for him, but I still fly a few feet away with a yelp. I roll my eyes at him and head towards the house.
“I made you an omelet. Not my fault if it gets cold.”
He nods and I head inside. My phone dings from the kitchen counter and I smile when I find a text from Luke. We make plans to meet up at the gym later, and I buzz with excitement.
The mower starts up again and twenty minutes later John walks in and plops into the chair across from me. He stuffs the omelet into his mouth like it's his first time seeing food. “S’good. Thanks,” he mumbles over a mouthful.
