Page 57 of A Touch of Spring Magic

Jessica peeled off her gloves and placed them on the handle of the wheelbarrow. She jogged over to where Storm and his two crew members were finished installing the railing on the gazebo. The hanging large egg-shaped chair had yet to be hung from the structural beam, and Jessica couldn’t wait to sit in it.

“Sorry,” she said to Storm, but all three stopped working and looked at her. “Familial duty calls. My mother wants to question my life choices over lunch. I made chili and corn bread for everyone.”

Gosh, she wished she were staying here for lunch.

Storm nodded. “See you when you get back. We’ve got the master plan and checklist in hand.”

Grey, a college friend who’d joined his crew for this project, looked at his watch. “Ten thirty is early for lunch,” he noted.

“I know,” Jessica began, defensively, but an hour to prepare for a lunch with her mother was barely enough time. Shower. Hair. Makeup. The outfit. Her stomach cramped a little just thinking about the expectations.

“Just a week plus out of my career, and I’m out of public-viewing-ready shape,” she joked weakly.

“Hey.” Storm peeled off his work gloves, tucked them in his back pocket and swaggered over. Really there was no other word for it. She could feel his body heat from his exertion. And for a mad moment she thought he’d touch her.

She wanted him to touch her.

And how much she wanted that scared her.

She held his gaze and her breath waiting, but he stopped a foot short. Closer than he’d stand to a stranger, but not intimate.

“You got this, Jay. Enjoy lunch with your mom. This is your place. Your schedule. We have our marching orders.”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “But enough is never enough.”

His eyes darkened. “And often enough is better than enough. We’ll see you when you get back and out of your ladies-who-lunch body armor.”

Such a simple thing, and yet the tension crackling through her eased.

She loved her mother. She’d just never had the relationship with her that felt comfortable like she had with her sisters.

But she couldn’t give up trying, right?

“See you, boys.” She smirked and spun around trying to channel the attitude she’d need, but Storm caught her thick ponytail in his hand.

“Men,” he said near her ear, his warm breath a puff of sexy teasing. “All man,” he reminded her, as if she could ever forget.

And then she was free, her pony swinging behind her high and proud as she strode toward the house, reminding herself not to look back, but knowing he was watching. She missed the sensations of his hands in her hair, and the longing made her feel awkward, likely ruining the effect of her saucy attempt to capture his attention, make him miss her.

*

Her mother keptit to small talk until their salad entrées arrived. Jessica had been regretting her order of beet salad, goat cheese and candied pecans that seemed more suited to an appetizer since she’d become accustomed to heartier midday meals.

“Tell me again about your crazy plan.” Her mother made no effort to reach for her fork, and her still-sharp blue eyes drilled down.

“I don’t think it’s crazy.” Jessica found herself grasping for words.

“Jessica Maye, you attended UNC Chapel Hill and received an economics and business degree and then an MBA before earning your CPS certifications. You worked at a top accounting firm and were on a partnership track, and then, what happened? Were you fired?”

“Of course not.” Her appetite fled. “Well, yes.”

Her mother stared at her, clearly shocked.

“But Meghan’s helping me with the wrongful dismissal.”

“No Maye has ever been fired. Never.”

“It wasn’t fair, but I was already thinking about an exit plan. I wanted—”

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