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“What’s he doing here?” I breathed. I knew my grass was getting long and I was going to see if I could hire one of the neighbor’s kids to cut it for me on a regular basis, but I’d been so busy lately with the new job and teen drama that it had completely slipped my mind.
I hadn’t heard from him in days and now he was mowing my lawn. What in the hell?
I peeked through the blinds again, hoping like hell he didn’t catch us spying on him even though he was on my property, without my permission. This was what my life had come down to? And sure enough, he was still out there. This wasn’t a figment of Miranda’s and my imagination. My booty call was cutting my grass and unfortunately, cutting my grass wasn’t a euphemism for something else.
For shame.
There was a big old brown Nissan truck in the drive, too, and I wondered where the hell he’d gotten the truck from because as far as I knew the only mode of transportation he had was his Harley.
I guess he had needed some way to get that mower over here.
“He’s doing your yard, honey,” Miranda said with that same grin and knowing eyes. “And let me tell you, I don’t know any fuck buddies who do that either.”
“Shit,” I whispered. I was guessing maybe he wasn’t done with me. I didn’t know which scared me more. Him mowing my lawn or breaking things off completely.
Miranda only laughed.
Istill hadn’t heard from Weston. I was trying not to take it personally. Hell, he’d cut my grass three days ago. Surely he wasn’t still ghosting me. Or was he?
Maybe he was. Maybe the yard was his final act of kindness. I shook my head at my crazy as I finished blowing out a client and listened to all the chatter in the salon.
It was a busy day and the place was crowded and loud. I found I liked those days the best. Today wasn’t too long of a day. I’d get off before dinner and I had a plan to figure out what was going on with Weston.
I had a chicken pot pie all prepped and ready to go in the oven in the break room fridge at the salon. I was going to take it by his place after work as a thank you for mowing my lawn.
But really I was going to see what the hell was up with him. Things had been so intense between us and now all of a sudden, nothing. It was just well…weird.
I needed to know. Either way. And come hell or high water or chicken pot pie, I was going to find out.
I finished up my client and cleaned the floors and my station, the whir of Selena’s police scanner in the background oddly comforting now. I’d gotten used to it.
I’d gotten used to this whole town, this job. Holden and Miranda. Even Weston. It seemed like me and Parker had just clicked into place here, like a puzzle piece missing.
It almost seemed too easy. I wondered if I was off to face the hard part today. But that didn’t stop me from getting my pot pie out of the fridge, saying my goodbyes, and getting into my truck and heading to Weston’s place.
I became increasingly nervous the whole drive over and decided that it was probably a bad idea to stop by unannounced. Again.
Although the last time I’d shown up unannounced had proved to be amazing. Thoughts of the dark garage, me pushed into the wall, him inside of me raced through my head. Okay, really amazing.
But still, he hadn’t even texted me in days.
So I decided that I was going to just drop the pot pie on his porch and text him that it was there as a thank you for the lawn.
I parked my truck in front of his house and shot out of the truck and practically sprinted across the yard, pot pie in my arms. I was bent over and setting it on an old mat on his front stoop when I heard the door open.
Fuck me.
“Whatcha doing, Slugger?” His deep voice poured over me like molasses, warming me from the inside out, and I stood up, wiping my sweaty hands on the thighs of my jeans.
He was standing there in a pair of light wash jeans and nothing else. Abs and muscles and tanned skin all out to play. And play with it I wanted to, but instead, I fisted my hands at my sides and gave him a smile that I knew didn’t quite meet my eyes.
“Well, I saw that you mowed my yard for me the other day and I just wanted to come by and say thank you.” I chewed on my bottom lip nervously.
“You did, huh?” he said, not giving a thing away. His face wasn’t hard, but it sure wasn’t welcoming either. He definitely wasn’t smiling at me like he had at Parker the day he fixed the truck. In fact, I noticed he looked tired. Dark circles sat under his eyes and his hair was mussed.
Still, he was handsome and I wanted to reach out and rub the side edge of his stubbly jaw. Damn it, I’d missed him.
This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come.
