Page 20 of The Legend Next Door
Luca picks through the seeds in my hand like a chicken scratching for food. Ben uses the pads of his forefinger and thumb to carefully isolate the seed he’s aiming for. Once he does, he looks at me and dips his head, breaking eye contact. At first, I think he does so because he’s uncomfortable with being so close to me and having to touch me. It’s not a big deal. Lots of men feel like that around other men. Society all but tells us it’s what’s expected.
That’s not what’s happening here though. It takes me a moment to spot it, but I do. It’s there. A faint trace of humor in silver-blue eyes. A crack in the cloud that covers the moon. A joke. Not a big one, or even a good one. A little one, but one he’s making for me. Warm flesh traces my lifeline, a little too long and a little too hard, tickling me.
It’s a small thing that sets me on fire. It isn’t meant to be significant. It’s supposed to be no more notable than a playful jab at my side or a shoulder butted against mine, but it feels significant to me.
While I burn, Ben presses a finger into the earth again. I watch as he curls the rest of his fingers toward his palm and slowly dips his pointer into the ground. Deep, but not too deep.
He wriggles it just enough to widen the hole.
Don’t do it,I warn myself.Don’t you dare do it. Do not allow yourself to feel envious of dirt.
Fortunately, I’m successful. I am not envious of dirt, and what a relief that is. That would be low, even for me.
Sadly, the only reason I’m not is that I’ve fallen victim to a catastrophic distraction.
I hand Luca the hose and ask him to water the seeds as soon as they’re all planted. He does a thorough job, wetting his shoes, his shorts, the lawn, and all but flooding the flower bed.
When he’s satisfied with his work, he gives Ben a mischievous side-eye. Ben’s looking away and doesn’t see it, or if he does, he doesn’t have time to react. I do see it. I see the impulsive thought whisper in Luca’s ear and take hold. His brows arch up and his tongue pops out with the strength of his intention.
He lifts the hose and sprays Ben in the face before I have time to open my mouth.
“Sorry!” he cries as Ben jerks back in surprise. “I told my hand ‘no,’ but it was too fast. I said, ‘No hand, don’t do it,’ but it was too late because my hand is a hockey hand, and hockey hands arereallyfast.”
I get the impression Luca’s hands moving at a speed that exceeds his brain is something Ben has plenty of experience dealing with because he sighs and says, “It’s okay, sweetheart.”
Luca doesn’t skip a beat. “If it’s okay, can I do it again? Just one more time.”
His expression is hopeful, sweet, impish, and so damn cute that I’m not surprised when Ben shakes his head, rolls his eyes, and says, “Okay, but only one more time, and make sure you don’t get Jeremiah. He’s wearing nice clothes.”
As I fight the urge to rollick, full-bodied, in the compliment, Ben adjusts his posture, bracing himself and leaning forward slightly as he waits for the spray. Luca raises the hose again and wets his face liberally this time. Ben laughs and shakes his head from side to side, sending water flying in every direction. His hair fans out from the motion. A dark halo for a handsome man.
His eyes are closed. His lashes wet.
I feel woozy.
Luca drops the hose onto the lawn. “Daddy,” he says, cocking his head, “you look like you’re about to go onto the ice.”
Ben’s laughter changes from a loud belly laugh to a distant rumble.
It’s like before, when I knew Luca would spray Ben before he did it. I know what’s going to happen next before it happens. I know it. Maybe I know before Ben knows he’s going to do it. I don’t know how I know, butI know.
Time slows.
Ben looks down.
Rivulets of water run down his face. Down his cheeks and his nose. His lips part, and he raises a big hand lazily and sweeps it down his face.
Forehead to chin.
I sit frozen, unmoving but smiling inanely. Ben is still laughing, and so is Luca. Luca looks around for a worthy target for Ben to spritz in lieu of a goal post. He finds none, but as he turns, Ben balls a fist near Luca’s face and flicks water lightly at him. Luca laughs again. So does Ben.
I make an awful sound. A truly terrible sound. A sound that’s the worst of a whimper and a gurgle rolled together.
I’m still smiling, I think.
I’m definitely still making the sound.
I’m not sure if Ben notices and takes pity on me or if he was always going to do it, but he turns toward me. Shoulder, arm, hand, and then chest and face. Beautiful face.
