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In his confused fog, it took him a moment to notice that she had opened the door and stuck her head out for reconnaissance. With her other hand, she pulled him toward the doorway. The electric tingle where she touched his forearm shot through him before short-circuiting in the acid bath of his stomach.
“You really did help, Tad. Now, I can get serious about dating and not worry that the first time in a while will be all fingers and thumbs.” She smiled beatifically and pulled the door open wider. “Well, we can hope, right? At least I won’t show myself up. Thanks for being a pal.”
“Sure,” he mumbled. There was a whole lot of mumbling going on. He had no choice but to step across the threshold, feeling a touch raw about the whole situation. Was it his imagination or was the hallway cooler? He turned back to find her closing the door.
“Oh,” she said, peeking her angelic head through the quickly evaporating gap.
“Yeah?” Shit, did his voice just break there?
Discomfort brushed across her face. “This isn’t going to be awkward, is it? I mean, if you’d rather I didn’t work at Vivi’s…”
“Of course not. I’ll be—we’re fine. Just fine.”It’s all good, honey. We’re just fine.
She gave a serene smile. “Oh, good. Because I’m enjoying it so much. You’ve no idea what a world it’s opened for me.”
“Glad to help.”With your all-round confidence and sexual tune-up.The bathroom stall doors were right. This was where his talents lay. Easy. Casual. Every muscle in his body strained over his efforts to keep it so damn casual.
“Catch you later, babe,” she said, still with the regal smile before shutting the door on his frozen grin.
Twenty-Five
The radishes were ripe for the ripping. She had planted them only three weeks ago, and now they had matured and were ready to be harvested. The perfect, renewable resource.
Casting about her vegetable garden, pride expanded in her chest and pushed aside more negative emotions. The lettuce and pea seeds she had nurtured indoors just six weeks ago were now showing healthy growth. It may be on her brother’s property, but she still considered it her garden and the achievement she felt at having created something from a patch of nothing got her every time. Just a five-minute walk from her flat, she tried to get here at least every other day.
“Want out!” Evan pumped his fist and strained at the straps pinning him back in his stroller.
“Sorry, Demon. If I could trust you not to bash your head on something, I’d let you roam free.”
“Want juice!” came his next offer in the negotiation.
More sugar, she could do that. In yet another plug for Worst Mother of the Decade, she placed the sippy cup in his hand and watched as he chugged away merrily. Simple pleasures.
She picked up the trowel and thought about how it might make a nice tool for a lobotomy.
Tad hadn’t called.
She was unbelievably annoyed about that, not just because he hadn’t called but because her reaction to it was so ridiculous. Waiting for a guy to call was old, desperate Jules. They were friends—he didn’t need to call her. She could call him because that’s what friends do.
Of course she hadn’t given him much reason to call. Two days had gone by since she had practically handed him his Armani suit and told him his sexually therapeutic services had primed her good. Evan had been sick the next day so she hadn’t been able to go in to work. In true coward’s fashion, she had texted Tad to let him know.
Something she never, ever did.
Texting was her bête noir. She always preferred to call someone but this time, she had dropped a, probably, misspelled sick note to her boss-slash-lover, letting him know she wouldn’t be in.
No problem,he texted back.Let me know if you need anything.She knew enough to get the gist.
It was exactly what he would have said in the old days, as in two days ago before they moved from friend zone into bone zone, with one shocking difference.
Pre-shag, he would have called right back and insisted she accept his help. Soup, a ride to the doctor, a shoulder to lean on. Not that she needed it, but she craved the assurance that they were still in the same place.
Nice job keeping the status quo, Jules.
“Derry told me but I didn’t believe him.”
Jules turned from top soil she had been moving around aimlessly to see Jack sauntering over from the back door. Panic flooded her chest. How could Derry have possibly found out about Tad?
“Told you what?” she fronted.
