Page 117 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
I grunt an acknowledgement and reach for the jack. “Thank you for coming.”
Lila hands it over, her fingers brushing mine as she does. I move toward the opposite side of my truck, pretending like I didn’t just feel her touch in every cell of my body. “So, are the apple puns part of the old lady facade?”
“Nah. They’re all me. I was trying tobranch outand try something new.”
I freeze. “Branch out, huh?”
Lila fights a smile. “I had to do something! It isn’t really in my nature to be impersonal, even when using a fake avatar. And you’ve seemed so determined to keep our interactions as brief as possible,’” she says. “I was just trying to lighten the mood.”
I frown, which makes Lila bite her lip, a flash of trepidation crossing her features. Those are my words she’s tossing back at me. Ididwant our interactions to be as brief as possible. Because I didn’t want to have a stupid assistant in the first place. But how am I supposed to respond? I don’t feel the same waynow.She’s helped me too much for me not to acknowledge her value.
I suppose I could just say that. But I’m not sure I trust myself to keep it professional because right now, I’m appreciating a lot more than just her work ethic, which is way more than she needs to know. Especially considering what she just told me about her first client.
Lila clears her throat when I don’t respond. “But brief interactions are completely justified,” she adds, likely assuming my displeasure based on my silence and my scowl.
Olivia has told me I need to work on my resting face, or I’ll never meet another woman.You look like you want to punch everyone,she always says.Just smile every once in a while!
Lila takes a step backward, away from where I’m crouching beside my tire, loosening the lug nuts. “It’s your right to set whatever boundary you’re comfortable with, and I’ll respect it. And of course, I’ll stop the apple puns if they bother you.”
This is not going well. I sink back onto my heels and look up, running a hand through my hair. “That’s not it. I don’t . . . I don’t mind them,” I grumble.
Lila hovers behind me, her uncertainty clear from her body language. “Okay.”
We’re silent for a beat before a voice sounds from Lila’s SUV. “Mommy? How much longer?”
She glances over her shoulder. “A few more minutes, okay? You’re doing great, kiddo. You can grab my phone out of the front if you want to play a couple of games while you wait.”
“How old is he?” I say on an impulse. “Would he want to help?”
I have no idea what possesses me to ask. Maybe just that it’s the kind of thing my dad did when I was a kid. If there was work to be done, we helped. In hindsight, I realize how much more complicated we probably made things, but I’ll never regret the learning I did beside my father.
A thousand thoughts flit across Lila’s expression before she finally nods. “Um. He’s five. And I’m sure he’d love to help. But I’m just warning you. He’ll talk the entire time.”
“Okay,” I say simply. I don’t have a ton of experience with kids. But I do okay when schools come out for education tours of the farm. I’ll even volunteer to lead the tours. Sometimes, kids are easier to talk to than adults.
Lila bites her lip, a gesture I’ve noticed twice now and liked both times, but then her shoulders drop, and she turns back to her SUV. A minute later, a little boy with dark brown hair and wide brown eyes is standing beside me.
“Jack, this is Mr. Hawthorne. Can you say hello?”
“Hi, Mr. Hawthorne,” the little boy says.
“Hi, Jack. You want to help? I could really use a little more muscle getting this tire changed.”
He nods, a smile creeping onto his face. “I’ve got pretty good muscles.” He curls his arms up to flex his biceps, and I grin.
“Whoa. You aren’t lying. All right. Stand back there beside your mom while I jack the truck up, then you can help me get the lug nuts off.”
Jack nods as Lila slips a protective arm over his shoulders and pulls him close to her. I quickly position the jack and slowly crank it up, double and triple checking it’s secure.
“Okay.” I pick up the lug wrench, guessing that since the lug nuts are already loosened, it won’t be too tough for Jack to twist them off. “Just like this, all right?” I show him the movement, but he stops me, reaching for the wrench.
“I know how to do it,” he says. “Mommy taught me when we changed her tire.”
My eyes immediately jump to Lila. I lift an eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t know anything about changing tires?”
Her cheeks flush the slightest bit, but otherwise, she seems unfazed by my question. She shrugs. “You put me on the spot.”
Her confidence only strengthens her appeal. I can maybe understand the allure of a “damsel in distress.” Playing the hero. Riding in to save the day. But I’ll take a strong, capable woman over a damsel in distress any day of the week.
