Page 47 of Hard Hat Hottie

“For what?” I reach up to run my fingers over the stubble along his jaw, his beautiful green eyes even more hypnotic in the morning light.

“I had the best night of my life last night. Well, until my mother decided she wanted to pay us a visit.” He lets out a nervous laugh before gazing back down at me. “And it wasn’t just the sex. You’re… well, you’re incredible. I never imagined the woman I’d been dreaming of could be even better in real life.”

Yeah, I’m done for.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

HARLOW

“Mom, can we have pizza for dinner?”

“Yeah, buddy. If that’s what you want.”

“Yes!” Alec pumps his fists in the air. “I want extra cheese. If Justin wants pepperoni, can you ask them to put them way far away from my side?”

“Alec, it’s only 3:00. We have a few hours until dinner. Why don’t you eat an apple or something, so you’re not so fixated on the pizza?” These boys are going to eat me out of house and home. I’ve already been considering picking up a few extra shifts to pay for new clothes and baseball expenses for these two.

Folding another set of too-small pajamas from Alec’s dresser, I place them on the pile that will need to go to Goodwill. I’ve had a rare weekend off with no Guard duty, so I’ve tried to keep myself busy so my mind doesn’t keep wandering back to Harrison.

It’s been a few weeks since I’ve seen him. Not since our night together. While I’d hoped finding the panties I left dangling from his tub might prompt him to call, it’s been quiet. I’m trying to take heart. He’s a busy man with a lot on his plate. And try as I might, I can’t help falling hard and fast, so I’m simply overeager to hear from him.

We exchanged numbers and have sent a couple of innocent texts to one another. But it seems as if he’s been as busy as I have. Until today.

While the temptation to text and ask if I can see him again is pulling at me, I have to watch myself with this guy. He’s already threatened to take up residence in my heart after the few moments we’ve shared together. He seems so genuine. But life has proven my barometer is off when it comes to men. So, I’m trying to slow my roll and not let myself fall in any deeper with him until I’m certain he’s the real deal.

On to the socks. I pull out several pairs from the back of Alec’s top drawer that I’m sure are left-over from his toddler days. Holding up the dark blue socks with rubber duckies on them, I smile as I recollect how cute my babies were when they were little. As I turn to drop them on the donation pile with the footie pajamas, I consider Harrison’s mother. How she’s virtually locked out of her memories. How awful that is. What does she recall, if anything?

Dementia can take many forms. Sometimes people only recall things stored in their long-term memory banks. While others can barely remember how to dress or feed themselves. Many, like the patients I often care for in the ER, are pleasantly confused, but can still carry on a conversation. They often don’t handle change well. Thus, their confusion worsens when night falls or if they are staying somewhere outside of their norm. But something tells me that Carolyn’s situation is pretty advanced if Harrison has a full-time nurse.

Not to mention knocking on his door in the middle of the night.

But the big giveaway was how defeated he looked. The love he has for her was evident in the way he talked to her. That alone should be the mark of a reliable, trustworthy man. As I continue stacking outgrown items onto the bed, my mind wanders.

What’s this?I’d asked as we spent a few unrushed moments together before Harrison dropped me back at my car.

It’s my Magic 8 ball.

I know that, silly. Guess I was curious if it was decoration or had some sentimental value.I had peered around his room and found there was little decoration present. But when the ocean is your focal point, you don’t need much else.

My dad gave it to me.

Oh.I’d picked the iconic piece up, flipping it upside down while I asked aloud,Will Harrison get lucky again?The small white triangle bobbed in the dark liquid for only a moment before it hovered to reveal:Better Not Tell You Now.We’d both laughed.

I have no idea why I keep it. He didn’t keep me.

The statement cut through me like a knife. Both from the poorly disguised pain in his voice, and the ache that re-emerged from where I’d buried it in the depths of my soul relating to my own father. A discomfort I thought I’d dealt with years before, but it was apparently still floating far too close to the surface.

He didn’t go into detail, and our situation seemed too new for any more deep conversations. From the beginning, things had been fun and flirty between us. But discussions about his mother, father, my father, and my kids… they felt like they needed a little more time.

I’m not ready for you to go.We’d enjoyed coffee on the beach together, both of us avoiding saying anything that could trigger heavy conversation. It was as if we were both protecting our happy space. Not willing to risk bringing anything else painful into the equation that could tarnish the last twenty-four hours.

Once he’d dropped me back at my car, we held each other and kissed and promised to meet again when the timing was right. I knew I was trying to guard my heart, but was he? Or washis life simply too full to want more than an occasional roll in the hay?

I skim my hand over the back of Alec’s top drawer to make sure I haven’t missed any other socks or undies that need to join the donation pile when I feel something hard.What is that?

Retrieving the item and pulling it up to eye level, I wrinkle my nose. It’s a small glass salt and pepper shaker. Why on earth would this be back there? Jerking the drawer out a little further, I ensure nothing else is hiding out of sight.

“Where do you want me to put this?” Justin asks, holding an overstuffed plastic trash bag full of what I suspect are old art projects, books, and toys he’s no longer interested in. I don’t donate his clothes. Well, to his brother maybe.