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If Hope knew I had a date, she would have been on time, but I was loathe to inform her. Hope was well aware of my habits. She knew there were women, she did not care, and I had no reason to hide anything from her.
But I wanted to hide Minty.
Which piled more uncomfortable feelings on top of the guilt. I’d unpack that later.
A few minutes after five, Minty pulled into my driveway.
I watched as she swung her long legs out of the car and looked around. Gratified to see she wore flat ankle boots and slim-fitting jeans, I returned my attention to her face and wondered what she thought as she took in my home.
My house was small, old, and situated on a quiet side street lined with equally small, old homes. Eight years earlier, when the housing market dipped, I bought it and poured every extra penny into renovating. Far from the only one to have that idea, the neighborhood now teemed with young professionals and families who spent their free time and extra funds updating and refinishing their homes.
Lawns were well-cared for, huge trees lined the street, and flowers spilled off porches and into the gardens below.
I bought it strictly for its investment potential, but having Brayleigh turned it into a home.
Minty smiled as she looked around.
I pulled open the front door before she reached it and watched her walk up the path. At the bottom step, she stopped and waved her hand to indicate the last of my tulips. “I never took you for a gardener!”
I let the door close behind me and grinned. “I’m not. That’s my sister’s handiwork.”
Minty’s eyebrows rose as she walked up the steps towards me. “She does your gardening for you? You’re lucky.”
“I am Lucky. I didn’t come by my moniker by accident,” I quipped. I drew her in to my gentle embrace, pleased to find her face tipped up to mine. “Don’t worry. She plants but she makes me weed.”
She leaned in, her breasts pressing lightly against my chest, as I looked down into her face.
“So, what is Lucky short for?”
“Lucas.”
“Mm. I like that name. It means ‘light’.”
“You can use it, but I probably won’t answer,” I warned with a smile.
Five years of being called Lucas the Mucous in grade school, back when I was short and scrawny, inoculated me against my name for life.
In grade five, the same year we moved, I picked a winning lottery ticket for my parents and earned my new name. I wasn’t about to give it up. Not even for Minty.
I stared down into her pretty face, my view unimpeded by her mass of hair.Swept back from her face and coiled into a knot at the nape of her neck, it pinpointed the exact spot I longed to press my kiss.
She looked beautiful, as always, but her smile belied the wariness in her eyes, reminding me of the need to tread lightly.
“You know I’d never hurt you in any way.”
Surprise widened her eyes. “I know.” She took a breath and the tension in her shoulders released. “I do know that. I’m not worried about that.”
“What are you worried about?” My eyes skittered over her face.
“Our age difference, how attracted I am to you, the fact that you have a child, that we are temporary.”
All the things she’d already said to me. All her reasons for not wanting to dive in with me. All the reasons she put an expiration date on us.
“I can’t do anything about the first and wouldn’t even if I could. I’m delighted with the second. She’s not too scary although she is bossy, and we’ll take it one day at a time,” I replied.
Minty’s emotions flashed through her eyes though her lovely face remained politely composed.
I wondered at the need for that control.
