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“I’VE EMAILED YOUR ATTORNEY ALL of the reports,” Cal told his client Steve Ross.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” Steve said. “This is going to help my custody battle. I’m hoping to get my kids for the full summer next year. I’ve already lined up vacation days and talked to my boss about working remote while the kids are with me.”
“That sounds excellent, and a judge would be pleased to hear it,” Cal said. “I wish you all the luck.”
After hanging up with Steve, he leaned back in his chair. Not all of his investigations had positive outcomes, but they did allow his clients to move forward in their lives, and not to be stuck in an impossible situation. If everything went well with Steve’s case, his kids would benefit from spending more time with the parent who actually paid them attention.
Cal knew there were always two sides to every story, but Steve’s ex-wife had made no secret of her vacations away from her kids while they were home alone.
He turned to his phone and pulled up the series of texts he’d exchanged with Steph that week. They were light, flirty even, and the most important part of it was that they had a date this afternoon to go hiking. Right after he helped her grandpa paint the back fence. This time, though, Steph knew about the work project. She wasn’t too happy about it, but he assured her it would be a nice break for him.
And it would be.
Cal just had to wrap his head around how much he missed Steph. They’d only reconnected a short time ago, and yet … she was constantly on his mind. Maybe it was because of their pretty intense kissing session? He shouldn’t have analyzed it, but he had—did she kiss all the men she dated with equal fervor? Or was something growing between them?
Maybe he was obsessing over her because she was from his past and he was still trying to heal some of those parts. Or maybe it was because he was older now, and ready to look commitment in the face … That was what had his pulse bouncing around right now.
He was thinking of Steph way beyond a couple of weekend dates, beyond flirting and kissing and reminiscing. When he thought of her, he sensed she might be the real deal. And for some reason, that didn’t scare him off or worry him. It made him excited to see her again. But was he becoming too attached too fast?
She was a woman who wore her heart on her sleeve. Embraced life as it came. Doled out plenty of affection and attention to everyone she knew. Which was both awe-inspiring and intimidating. Maybe he was a project to her—maybe he always had been. There was chemistry between them, sure. No one could deny that. But maybe she wasn’t one of those girls who wanted a serious relationship and was perfectly happy flitting from one man to the next.
Maybe he should cancel. Put off the painting project. Tell her he’d come another weekend. He’d been alone most of his life. And he knew he felt comfortable in that aloneness. Keeping things to himself was always easier. Not having to explain or report was what he preferred. Yet, he’d been able to talk to Steph easily. He’d told her way more than he’d planned, and he still wanted to share things with her.
If he canceled their Saturday, then he could let his emotions cool off, let reason return. He wanted to help with the project, but he knew he’d spend the day becoming more attached to her.
“Cancel it,” he whispered to himself. But he knew he wouldn’t. No, he knew hecouldn’t.
Cal stood from his office chair and walked into the main part of his town house. He’d already loaded paint supplies in his car. On the kitchen table sat his backpack for the hike and a change of clothing. He was currently wearing his oldest jeans and a faded T-shirt. Perfect for painting fences.
Ignoring his colliding thoughts, he picked up his stuff and headed out the door. In an hour, he’d be in Everly Falls, likely talking himself out of this more than once on the drive. He’d help paint the fence, then go from there. One hour at a time.
When he pulled up in front of Steph’s house, his stomach was in knots. He was back to being a seventeen-year-old boy. How were they supposed to greet each other? Would their easy rapport continue in person after a week of texting?
He climbed out of his car, and as he was gathering the paint supplies he’d loaded into his trunk, he heard Steph.
“Hey, there.”
He straightened, holding a couple of drip pans and brushes, and turned to see her walking down the driveway. She must have come from the side yard.
“Hey.”
She continued walking straight toward him, her eyes bluer than the sky, and a soft smile on her face. It was a warm fall day, and she wore old sneakers and a faded red knit dress. Was she going to paint in that? Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, and she already had something white smudged on her cheek.
“Did you start already?”
She smiled. “I’ve been painting for hours, slowpoke.”
He smiled back. “I’m early.”
She laughed, and his heart soared. Then she closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms about him.
His hands were full, but he pulled her close anyway. He could get used to this hugging thing. His heart rate continued to climb as her hair brushed his neck, and her shampooed scent enveloped him.
“How are you?” she asked, drawing away, but keeping her arms looped about his neck.
“Much better now.” Would it be tacky to kiss her in front of her whole neighborhood? It seemed she didn’t have much trouble with it after dark.
Before he could lean in, she stepped out of his arms. “Let’s go, Pops is waiting.”
