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Big John looks over his shoulder for a moment, waiting for Jasmine to turn back around and notice he’s waiting for that glance.
I stare, hoping she will.
Then she does.
Their eyes connect long enough to mean they see something they will happily pursue in each other.
Then they both turn away.
I suspect Jasmine is grinning as hard as Big John is as he tips the water out of the metal tub over the soil of some newly planted shrubs and then heads toward the house.
I wistfully get reminded of my parents’ instant connection at a real estate business—that day sealed their love for eternity.
I check the time on my watch. Now seems like a good time to take a break before organizing the barbecue lunch of locally sourced gourmet snags and seasoned chicken breast in freshly baked bread.
I wander over to the outside kitchen area, use the sink beneath the undercover part of the decking, take off my gloves, and scrub my hands. Even wearing gloves, dirt still seems to find its way onto your skin.
Aubrey sits on a picnic blanket, reading a romance book under the shade of the goat logoed big, black outdoor umbrella. Chance inserted it into the hidden ground slot that can get swiveled at various angles to chase the sun away.
His wife wears pink yoga pants with a matching zip-up hoodie, which says BABY MAMA on the front and IN TRAINING on the back. Aubrey’s cradling CJ, who looks every bit as beautiful as his parents, having fallen asleep after a busy morning of activities with his mummy while I landscaped.
Once all the grime gets cleaned away, I flop down on the grass next to my sister-from-another-mister in my grubby denim overalls, resting back on my elbows, closing my eyes, and tipping my head to the sky.
I wonder how Tucker’s charity event went. I bet he looks good in a suit. Is he mad I made my getaway? Would he have forgotten me by now? He doesn’t know who you are, and that’s how you wanted it.
Maybe if I bump into him in six months, I will reconsider a date, but a man who looks like that will have himself a woman by then. For now, I have a business to get off the ground and a no-man rule to adhere to.
Yesterday I sent off a healthy donation to the Center for Hope after calling Keanu for the details. I held my ground and didn’t Google any news on the event. I couldn’t read anything about the night because I told myself that I was interested in him if I did that. And I am not interested in the cocky, tattooed musician, maybe Nordic blood-in-his-veins caveman. Or he just looks a tad Viking-ish with his hair color, beard, and hairstyle. Oh and yes, the man has ink on his arms and chest and wears two woven leather bracelets on his left wrist—which I discovered when he removed his leather jacket and shirt—and he is very appealing to my eye, but I had to pretend I was not affected by his bare chest when he held me.
I need to get that jacket back to him.
I need to stop thinking about the guy.
I mean, why do I think about him?
I refuse to let the cocky guy enter my dreams another night. He can take his swagger and banter out the door with his pearly grin and brown/green eyes. And while I’m at it, he can take his muscular torso and abs out the door, too, with his soap and cologne scent. If I don’t hear ‘Hamlet’ any time soon, it will be a good day.
“…you a lemonade after I put CJ in his travel cot.” My foot gets nudged. “Hey, Ophelia. Snap out of it.”
“Sorry, what were you saying?”See.Tucker is a distraction. I made the right choice to do a runner. I need to keep my focus on my business—period.
Aubrey tilts her head on the side, observing me. “Are you okay? A penny for your thoughts.”
“Nah, it’s all good. I was just thinking about how I was going to return something to its rightful owner.” There is some truth in there.
“If you are sure.”
“I am. Now, what were you saying?”
“I am putting CJ down in his travel cot, so I thought I would make us a homemade lemonade while I am inside.”
The thought of a thirst-quenching lemonade makes me mouth-watering thirsty. “Are you sure? I can get it myself.” I sit up, ready to get to my feet, but a hand swipes up in front of my face.
“Lady, you enjoy a few minutes of well-earned rest. You deserve it. I’ve got you covered.”
“Would you mind bringing my phone from the kitchen counter back with you, please?”
“No worries.” And on that note, she rolls to her side with a practiced finesse and gets to her feet while still cradling her beautiful little boy but then hesitates. “Forgive me if I believe you were thinking on Tucker Royal. I don’t doubt I had that far off look in my eye a time or three when Chance and I were apart.”
