be Wells and me, and I’ll invite our other friend from the butler academy, Emmaline, who recently moved to the area. It will give me a chance to ask Sara about how her appointment went for the new landscaping job yesterday.”
So that’s where she’d been. The woman had exited the house before breakfast and returned after eleven pm. Could she have been getting her hands dirty all that time? “It was a long day for her.”
Charlie’s brows shot up then pinched together as she frowned. “I’m sure the meeting was only slated to take about an hour.”
Joaquin shrugged as if he hadn’t a care in the world. But where could Sara have been the rest of the time? On a date? Or maybe worse, avoiding him?
Damn. He should have made some effort to text her while she was out. You know, something casual. Hope all is well. How’s that hickey? I can’t stop thinking about the way you felt coming apart in my arms.
“She’s special, you know,” Charlie said. “Sara, I mean.”
The sudden fierceness in her voice made his own cool. “Of course. She does her job well.” He didn’t want Sara’s BFF guessing that besides her work at the house she’d been dancing the horizontal mambo with Joaquin. If she chose to tell, that was her business, but he’d keep his mouth shut. “I should get going.”
Charlie inclined her head. “Enjoy the rest of your run.”
He handed back his empty glass. “Thanks, Charlie. I mean that.”
He hoped she understood the subtext—he appreciated that Sara had such a loyal friend.
“Until tomorrow, Joaquin.”
Which left the rest of today, he thought, jogging down the steps to the sand.
Hours to share with two females who had found their way into his living space—the space he’d presumed would be like every other he’d had since moving to live on his own. An all-bachelor pad used merely as a place to sleep and store his clothes.
Now his life was complicated by the XX factor.
She wanted to find a way to feel closer to you.
Sara had said that’s why Essie had played New Kid. And what had he done? Left the house and never connected with his sister yesterday or today, unless pulling hummus from the refrigerator and pita chips from the pantry counted.
Wasn’t it time he reached out?
Like he knew how to engage a teenage girl.
Back at Nueva Vida, he was still devoid of ideas. But when he came down from his shower, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, he found Essie and Sara in the kitchen, baking cookies.
Chocolate chip cookies.
Hmm. There could be an upside to this XX invasion.
Sara slid him a look over a now-tense shoulder.
Shit.
For sure he should have reached out to her before now, too. And not with a text. Or at least not only a text.
Flowers? Candy?
What kind of sex thank-you was appropriate that didn’t smack of romance as well?
Even more clearly he saw the reasons you didn’t sully what was a workplace—for Sara—with an intimate relationship. It made sending the right message even more dicey.
But looking at her, neat as a pin in a starched white apron over her khaki skirt and black T-shirt… He couldn’t regret what they’d done. And Christ, he wanted to sully her all over again.
“How was your run?” she asked, her tone polite.
“Good.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “The weather’s great.” His gaze slid to Essie. “Right, Es?”
“Yeah.” She had her eyes directed at her phone as she munched on a cookie.
Nobody had offered him one yet. And just as he had the thought, Sara passed him a small plate with two piled on, as well a glass of iced tea.
“It’s close to lunch, but…”
“Thanks, Mom,” he answered, dutiful, and she shot him another look.
He held her gaze and then let his drift to her mouth, remembering those soft, rosebud lips against his own.
She made an abrupt about face, but he’d seen the new flush on her cheeks.
Yeah, it was his damn fault this was awkward. Maybe he could have left her some special kitchen gadget to express his gratitude. He marveled at them during infomercials on the nights he couldn’t sleep. Devices that cored and peeled pineapples in one step. An avocado dicer that kept fingers away from the sharp blades. But he’d neglected to even extend that simple gesture.
He grimaced. “I should have thanked you for your kindness night before last, too, Sara.”
Swinging about on her heel, she stared at him over Essie’s head, eyes big. Her face had turned