He hasn’t noticed us yet. I should walk away, but I’m mesmerized by the sight of him. Pain glows inside me, a ball of ache growing with every breath.
Mark laughs as he joins me at the fence. “Good God, what the hell is this?”
“It’s a community garden.” You idiot.
Perhaps he can’t think of anything derisive to say, because he knows full well that San Francisco is packed with community gardens. He scoffs as Gage opens up a bag of chicken manure and digs into it with his spade, spreading the fertilizer over the beds.
My hackles rise as Mark chuckles at the toiling mechanic. Goaded past endurance, I walk along the edge of the fence, away from Gage.
“What’s the matter? Having second thoughts about your lover?”
“I am about my promise not to knee you in the balls right now.”
I expect him to retort with some kind of bitchy reply, but instead he smirks at me, walking closer to Gage. “What are you doing? Leave him alone.”
He ignores me. “Hey, asshole! How’s it going?”
My insides freeze as Gage finally looks up from his work to spot Mark hanging by the fence, me right behind him. A thrill runs through me when our eyes meet, a thrill that’s suddenly extinguished. Mark’s voice is cold water.
“How does it feel to literally dig your hands into shit for a living?”
Oh my God. My cheeks flush as Mark laughs. Surprisingly, Gage’s stony face stretches with a smile of his own.
“Why don’t you come inside and I’ll show you?”
“No thanks!” he jeers. “I wasn't made for sorting through chicken shit.”
Gage drops his spade to take a few lumbering steps toward the fence. For a moment, Mark seems to falter.
“What do you do with them, then? Besides writing checks with Daddy’s money, I mean.”
The confident smirk evaporates. “I’ll have you know that I’ve worked for every cent in my bank account. Not everybody is as successful. Or smart.”
I yank the back of Mark’s jacket. “That’s enough.”
“Don’t tell me what to do!”
Gage’s intense gaze flickers to me and I feel his unspoken question in the marrow of my bones. “Maybe you should listen to my wife. You’re embarrassing her.”
“Shut up, Mark!”
His handsome face gleams in the sunlight, eyes narrowed into slits. His hands curl around the handle of a shovel, which leans against the fence. “The offer still stands. Come inside. I’ll teach all about what it’s like to be me.”
Swallowing, Mark backs away, shaking his head. “Madman.”
Then it’s just us, separated by a few centimeters of metal. Shifting from Mark, his eyes fall on me. There’s lust and longing simmering just beneath the surface of suspicion. I look at him, hoping to commit every part of him to memory. The t-shirt wrapping around his athletic waist with the slight breeze. The way his hair strokes his face and the bottom of his neck. The quirk of his Han Solo grin.
“What are you doing? Olivia, come!”
I close my eyes against the horrible voice snapping at me like a whip, and when they open Gage still hasn’t moved a muscle except to press his lips in a firm line. Hopeless, I glance behind me where Mark jerks his hand back, beckoning.
“Come.”
Turning away from Gage is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Mark huffs impatiently when I finally reach him, and then I glance back. He’s still standing there, motionless. I feel his watchful stare stroking my body long after I’m gone.
Am I supposed to spend the rest of my life pining after him? I can’t do this. My stomach turns at the thought of spending another week with Mark and his awful mother. I’ll sneak out and explain myself to Gage, and maybe this will become tolerable somehow.
Mind made up, I walk past Mark who stubbornly tries to keep up with my pace. We’re halfway to the colonial house when the earth begins to shake. “Is that an earthquake?” White-faced, he looks at me.
Then from the road leading into Fair Oaks, I see them. Huge, monstrous yellow trucks designed for one purpose: to destroy. The bulldozers roll into town in single file.
What the hell?
I run toward them, my heart sinking as five—six of them park along the streets. Another truck carrying port-a-potties rolls into town, and a crew of construction workers, who begin setting them up.
“What the hell is going on?”
Mark sleeve brushes against my arm. “That’s to ensure you keep up your end of the bargain.”
I round on him, my heart hammering in my throat. “I’ve