Page 37 of Third Time Lucky

He shoves his hands into his jean pockets, shaking his head. “I’m good. Just glad I caught you in time.”

I step closer. “This is really going beyond the good neighbor policy. I think I owe you more than a beer now.”

“Beer works.” He smiles over at Derek, who has managed to open my door without either of us noticing. “I better go get Rue. We have a busy day planned. I’ll tell you all about it later.”

I nod and watch him mutely as he walks away.

Who is this confusing baseball player? Why does it feel like he wants more from me than my help with his daughter? And why am I hoping its true?

When will you ever learn, Joey Redmond?

***

I collapse with a small groan of relief into one of the new, comfortably padded patio chairs that arrived today. I may never get up again.

This is the first time I’ve been off my feet since breakfast, but I can see my floor now and JD’s husband is the god of getting shit done. Tonight he came over to assemble shelves, hang artwork and basically unpack what was left of my boxes while JD and I were playing tug-o-war over my comic book collection.

“You don’t even like comics.”

“I do! And it’s a hardcover. I need it.”

Now that I’m finally alone again, I can’t help feeling like this day was at least a week long. Maybe more. And I’m still wondering why Elliot went out of his way like that. Which is why I’m out here on this balcony. Because some part of me knows he’ll be joining me.

Some part of me wants him to.

“You look tired.”

Elliot’s voice is hushed, probably in deference to his sleeping daughter, the adorable dark-haired faerie I saw peering out their door while my hands were full of trash and cardboard remnants.

“You’re Joey?”

“Yep. You’re Rue?”

“Yep.”

“Roos and Joeys are both names for baby kangaroos. Isn’t that weird?”

“You’re weird.”

“Yep.”

“See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

I’m pretty sure we’re friends now.

“I am. It’s been a busy day. Finally winding down.” I noticed my shoulders only started relaxing at his arrival. Other parts of me, not so much.

“You mind if I come over?”

I barely finish my shrug before he does his superhero vault into my space again. Why do I find that so fascinating?

His thighs. And everything above and below them.

Dragging one of my new chairs closer, he sits down so our knees are almost touching and frowns thoughtfully. “Not just tired. And I don’t think it’s your brother’s visit that has you looking down. I heard a lot of laughing over here tonight.”

“No. It’s not him.”

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