Page 70 of Finding Home
Every laugh.
Every light touch.
Every word she speaks.
I can’t stay away from her, even if my brain tells me I should.
Just as I finish up the last board of the horizontal base, I look up and see Blair standing in the grass. She has her hands on her hips with stain splattered on her oversized T-shirt. Her eyes scan the entire deck as if she’s assessing the work we’ve put in today.
It’s not the way she’s standing that sends chills up my spine.
It’s the smile on her face.
It’s vibrant and full of life, even after everything she’s been through. I don’t know enough to know when her life changed or when her husband cheated on her. She wears a contagious smile that has me ready to mimic it for the first time in years.
She turns to look at me as if she can sense me staring.
“We did good,” she says, the smile growing wider.
I swallow past the lump in my throat and give her a nod. “Youdid good,” I tell her. “You did most of the work here. I just simply showed up as an assistant.”
A laugh bubbles out of her as she looks to the ground, shaking her head before walking in my direction. Those same chills race through every part of me. I’m not so sure I can hold off and not touch her if she gets too close to me again.
“Can I offer myassistantsomething to drink, then?”
Looking from her to the house and back to her. “It’s going to be hard to get inside as it needs a little longer to dry since we started closer to the house. It shouldn’t be long, though.”
“Right.” She giggles. “Guess I forgot about that little tidbit.”
I feel my lips twist into a lopsided grin as I follow her. Thankful she can’t see me right now to know the effect she has on me. I’d like to keep up my reputation as the grump in town.Simply to keep anyone from talking to me longer than I want them to.
“Rain check,” she says as she takes a seat in one of the porch chairs sitting on the grass.
Without thinking, I take the vacant seat next to her.
I should really just go home.
My work here is done.
“Have you ever been told you can’t do something, and it only makes you want to do that something even more?” she asks.
“Huh?”
She stares at her home as if the answer to all life’s questions is inside.
“Peach iced tea,” she says.
“I’m still not understanding.”
She laughs before turning to face me again. “The deck is wet, and all I can think about now is how the peach iced tea I mixed up earlier this morning is sitting in my fridge waiting to be consumed. It’s truly the superior flavor of iced teas. Something about the peach flavor, and the coldness, and…okay, I’m talking way too much and making no sense. Maybe the fumes from the stain are getting to me.”
I shake my head, a grin forming on my lips without even thinking.
Leaning forward in her chair with her lips parted. Gone is the contagious smile I’ve seen since she was standing outside admiring the work we’ve put in.
“What? Do I have something on my face?”
“Yeah…” She pauses as if she’s trying to collect her thoughts. “A…you have a smile.”
