I’ve been pretty lax with since I moved into the house—and I don’t even skimp on the products. Some days, a girl deserves to treat herself.
After a blowout that leaves my hair in shining waves—again, something I haven’t bothered with in quite a while—I slip into my most upscale pair of yoga pants (which isn’t saying a lot, but still) and my most flattering rose tank top. A slick of lip gloss across my lips and a touch of mascara on my lashes, and I figure my mom won’t have much to complain about over lunch, even if she wants to.
Satisfied and feeling pretty damn good, I head downstairs. My stomach is growling like an enraged bear.
I’m barely halfway down the stairs when I hear Mom and Sarah chattering amid the clanging of pots and pans. Even more surprising is the fact that Nick’s deep voice sounds like it’s coming from right in the middle of the action—which, it turns out, it is.
The three of them are in the lemon-yellow kitchen like they all belong there together. Sarah and my mom are setting the table, and Nick is sautéing chicken in a pan.
“I thought you were going home,” I say. He was walking to his house when I went inside.
Nick doesn’t bother glancing up from the frying pan. “I did go home. And now I’m here. Some people can do more than take a shower in an hour and a half.”
“Yeah, well…” I walk farther into the kitchen, getting the glasses out of the cabinet while I scramble for a witty comeback. “Sometimes efficiency is highly overrated.”
Oh, girl, that’s what you’re going with?
Ignoring my snarky inner voice, I make eye contact with the back of Nick’s head, expecting him to argue with me. Everything about him screams that he’s the most efficient person on the planet, after all. But instead of coming back at me with facts and figures, he looks up with an amused grin that kind of freezes when our eyes connect.
And suddenly, that weird breathless feeling is back. It’s the one that makes me feel like all the baggage from my broken marriage is sitting squarely on the middle of my chest.
“What’s wrong?” I ask when he continues to stare at me without saying anything.
“Nothing. You just—” He breaks off and blows out a long breath. “You look nice.”
“Yeah, well, when you last saw me, I was at risk for drowning in my own sweat. Anything is an improvement over that.”
“Nothing wrong with working up a little sweat,” he says, turning his attention back to the chicken.
There’s something in his tone that has my heart beating too fast, even as Sarah lets out a little snort.
My mother is surprisingly quiet.
I’m in the middle of trying to think of another comeback—I’m fast like that—when my phone dings. I glance down at the text from Mikey, asking if I want to meet for a drink around two.
It’s pretty much the last thing I want to do—I’m tired and grumpy and it’s way too hot outside right now—but I make the mistake of mentioning the invitation to my supporting cast.
“You should go,” my mom says. “He sounds like a nice guy.”
“He’s a very nice guy.” I sit down in the empty chair next to her. “I’m just not sure I want to go anywhere right now.”
“You should totally go,” Sarah chimes in. “You look super hot and besides, what else do you have to do?”
What do I have to do? The only things that come to mind are drudgery, followed by hard labor, followed by chores. “Clean out another room so that maybe, maybe I can get my ass off that miserably uncomfortable couch. Plus, I still have the lawn to finish.”
“The lawn?” Sarah looks confused. “But—”
Nick places the four perfect portions of chicken on a platter in the middle of the table and sits down across from me. “You should go.”
It’s pretty much the last thing I expect him to say. On the plus side, it makes the breathless feeling go away really fast.
I’m trying to process the why of that when I happen to glance out the window with a view of the front yard. Then I’m breathless for real, because all the air in my lungs whooshes out in one big angry breath. My entire front lawn has been mowed.
“What did you do?” I demand.
“What do you mean?”
He tries to look innocent, but I’ve gotten to know him well enough now to see a hint of something