When the Heart Lies - By Christina North Page 0,10
really.” She relayed the pornographic scene with Savannah and Max that had sent her into a tizzy and eventually into her first full-blown anxiety attack, as Wayde stood laughing, discounting the entire situation. “Not only did an ambulance come, but the police, too. Wayde must have told 911 about the argument between Savannah and me.” The incident with Savannah had nothing to do with the real issue. What put them at risk was her bringing Max to Florida to live with a man she barely knew. Savannah’s childish behavior simply complicated things further. She’d never forgive herself for leaving New York.
“What a fuck-tard,” Scar said and took a puff of her cigarette as she nodded agreement with herself.
“Yeah, he is. He said I threatened Savannah. I didn’t. Not really.” Savannah was lucky she didn’t clock her one. Or two.
Scar smiled again. “I’m sure you wouldn’t. I never do stuff like that either.”
Scar exhibited more understanding than judgment, so Kinsley continued. After a minute or two, she wondered if she was saying too much, but she found it surprisingly easy to share with her. “I insisted I didn‘t want to go anywhere and told them I shouldn’t leave my son, Max, with them.”
“Let me guess,” Scar said. “That’s when you started protesting, sounding even more anxious.”
“Exactly. It’s scaring the hell out of me, Max being alone with them at the house.” Her hands were splayed out at hip level, accentuating her words. She’d never left him alone with Wayde.
“You think they’d hurt him?”
She frowned. “I’m not sure what to think at this point. It isn’t a good situation.” Her arms crossed stubbornly at her breasts, and she watched her foot make patterns in the light layer of sand blanketing the walkway.
With a sympathetic shake of her head, Scar did a double take at her watch, and butt her cigarette out with a grind of her shoe. “Shit, I have to get to aerobics. What activity you doing?”
“Gardening.” She grimaced at the thought and started walking.
“He’s got his eye on you.”
“Who?” Even though she figured the he Scar referred to might be Jackson, she asked anyway. She couldn’t imagine how Scar would know anything about him, and feigned disinterest.
Scar laughed as she mockingly slid her hands up and down her body. “The fine specimen of a man you’re going to be seeing in a few minutes, the one mulching the trees, gleaming with sweat in a hot white tank top and form fitting jeans.”
They glanced over at Jackson, exchanged appreciative grins, and parted.
There was a team of people working on the grounds. A man with a clipboard was shouting out orders, so she jogged over, figuring that must be where she was supposed to be. Already, she felt overheated.
She approached the man. “Hi. Kinsley Wentworth. I signed up this morning.”
“Thanks for joining us, Kinsley. I’m Steve.” Squinting from the sun, he pointed to the huge pile of mulch bags. “Those need to go over there. Think you can handle that?”
She tried to make her voice as convincing as possible. “Sure, whatever you need.”
After about ten bags, she began to question her choice of activities. Sweat beaded on her brow. She shrugged one shoulder, wiping the sticky moisture onto her T-shirt, and in the process she lost her grip on the bag she was carrying. Before she was aware of him, Jackson rushed from the mulch pile over to her and secured the bag in her arms. When his hands were free and the bag secure, he brushed aside the damp hair she was trying to blow out of her eyes and tapped her nose. His action hadn’t seem planned, and the effect it produced she deemed much more hazardous than his cavalier flirting. She’d dealt with flirts her whole life, but a man like him, a girl could fall for. He smiled, tucked the last of the fallen hair over her ear, and continued to stand boldly in her personal space. It seemed she always needed to hold her breath, deep down in her chest with her mouth hung slightly open, when he was so near. She imagined how exhilarating it would be if it weren’t so scary. Her held breath let out involuntarily and trailed into a sigh, making her appear love-struck. He smiled, and she wanted to shrivel up and blow away.
“You look like you could use a cold shower. I certainly could,” he said and headed back toward the mound of mulch bags. Halfway to the pile, he tossed