Page 7 of Unhurried Hearts

“Shi—”

I brace for the fall, knowing that the wood deck below is gonna hurt like a bitch, when I jolt to a stop, an arm scooped under my side to catch me.

“Gotcha,” Chris’s voice is soft in my ear, his muscular arm holding me inches off the deck with ease.

Ashlyn stands to right the chair that fell over behind me. “Are you okay? I hate these stupid things.”

“Yep,” I say, wincing a bit over the spot on my ribs where Chris broke my fall and a lot over the embarrassment that’s coursing through my veins.

I get my footing and peel my ponytail out of my pink lip gloss, murmuring a thank you. The spot where he’d held me cools rapidly in the evening air.

Isaac stands too. “I’ll get a dining chair from inside.”

“That’s okay!” Ashlyn’s voice is high. “Chris can shove over.”

His seat is a teak sun lounger with a soft pillow running the length of the wood. I send Ashlyn my best, ‘you’re trying too hard’ stare but settle onto the lounger with him all the same. On any other day, I would have rolled my eyes or chosen to sit on the stairs over sidling next to Chris. Tonight, though, I give in.

After we finish the grilled chicken and vegetables, Berg’s daughters don’t have to beg very hard to get the guys to chase them around the yard. A dreamy look washes over Ashlyn’s face every time Isaac hoists a little girl over his head. Honestly, I don’t mind the way Chris looks when he hauls a child onto his shoulders with the same ease as he would a loaf of bread.

When the night turns dusky, Berg herds the kids toward their car. With the kids gone, I can hear crickets chirping in the long, dry grass behind the workshop and a float planedroning above me. I let my ponytail drape over the back of the teak patio chair I’ve claimed for myself. A pergola stretches overhead, honeysuckle emanating a sticky sweet scent as they creep along the slats of cedar.

“More dessert?” Ashlyn holds out a tray of lemon tarts.

I groan.

“I’ve got to make smaller batches. I'll put them away. Can you help me clean up, Isaac?” Ashlyn calls over to where the guys are hanging by the garage.

We already cleared almost every dish, so I know Ashlyn is simply providing an opportunity for me and Chris to be alone. Jury is still out on whether I love or hate her for it.

“Yep! Coming.”

Chris jumps two footed from the bed of Isaac’s black truck, landing so easily that he may as well have stepped off a city curb. He heads straight for me. I swallow, straighten up in my chair, and pull down the hem of my dress. Or should I pull it up?

Jesus, Anna.

“Anna is right here. Just ask her,” Isaac says, nodding toward me with a smile.

Ask mewhat?

I look up at him expectantly, and I swear his eyes are hovering somewhere around my thighs.

Damn, this sundress is really working.

“Hmm?” I look between them at the mention of my name.

“Chris was just saying how he needs his hair cut, but his barber is out of town. I told him to go see you.”

Isaac heads inside to help Ashlyn and Chris plucks a beer from the cooler of melting ice and twists the cap, lowering himself into another teak chair with a laugh. The warm rich sound feels like a heavy plush blanket wrapped around my shoulders. I already had problems keeping my cool around Chris and now I have the knowledge of what his stupid bicep feels like.

“What’s so funny about it?”

“Imagining whatever trendy haircut you’ll give me, Annie.”

I grit my teeth at the childish nickname and figure sundresses probably aren’t Chris’s thing. I think of all his sporty pics online. He’s probably more into fleece. Why did I think a pretty dress would turn his head?

The urge to reach out and run my hands through his longer than normal hair, a hairdresser habit, is strong. He’s been fussing with it all night. Usually, his dark brown hair is cropped short and smoothed down with a touch of product. With it natural and tousled, he looks boyish, more approachable than he has in the past. Or maybe thatbecause I’ve already nearly landed on my face in front of him, so the nerves have passed.

“Yeah, you should come into the salon. I’ll take care of it.”

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