Page 78 of The Endowment Effect

“Thank God for that,” she said.

Hands on his hips, Lucas said to Mia, “Nice job, kiddo.” He ruffled her hair with one hand. “Bernadette’s a tough old bird, and you won her over. Thank you.”

The look of pure unabashed pride beamed all over Mia’s face like a bright ray of undiluted sunshine. “No prob, Lukey.”

He pointed his finger at her as if in disapproval, but his grin gave him away. While Mia mimicked Bernadette, almost levitating as she walked, her heart visibly full of unreserved joy at having is full attention.

Birdie knew the feeling.

* * *

Birdie satin the reclining chair by the window, the arms nearly worn through over the years of children playing king of the hill, climbing over the back and toppling to the floor in a fit of giggles. It made her feel a little sad to sit benignly in what used to be an enviable throne in which to conquer as she watched the orchestrated effort going on outside the window.

While Grant scraped at the wood siding of the house, Lucas went to work replacing boards that couldn’t be salvaged. Mia, acting as the dutiful gofer for whatever the two men needed.

In the hot Georgia sun.

Shocked was an understatement when it came to watching her daughter hunt down a measuring tape or hand Lucas a paint scraper, without complaining once or putting up a fuss. Quite content to just be around her newfound parental unit.

Birdie raised an eyebrow. Had it been Birdie attempting to employ her sweet daughter’s services, she would have had a fit, with the back of her hand to her forehead, feigning dizziness or heatstroke, checking her phone for the nearest urgent care location.

There she was, pleasantly presenting Lucas and Grant their requested tools, as if possessing years of experience doing heavy labor without complaints of suffering a heart embolism.

Birdie tried to help with lunch, warning her old friend that Mia was vegan and what that meant. Bernadette responded by shooing her out of the kitchen claiming she couldn’t think straight with her underfoot.

Birdie knew better.

The woman had always been about ulterior motives.

So she ended up sitting in the living room, in the throne of a chair, peeking through the curtains like her teenage-stalker self.

Her heart seized in her chest as she leaned forward, her fingers grasping at the window casing, as Lucas removed his T-shirt due to the unforgiving heat.

Swinging her legs under her for better viewing pleasure, she watched his muscles move and contract as he pulled his impressive biceps from the armholes. She swallowed as she got a good look at what, in her estimation, had to be a baker’s dozen pack of abs. Below that tempting corrugated goodness, were muscles that formed a V, pointing her toward the promised land, his jeans sitting dangerously low on trim hips.

Her eyebrows furrowed in frustration as Lucas spoiled her fun by hitching up his jeans by a belt loop.

Of course he was ripped.

Could someone in this godforsaken town cut her a break?

Lucas Santos was no longer the young lanky running back who made the fans scream, clapping him on the back enthusiastically at his other-worldly athletic abilities.

No siree.

He was now a full-grown man, who was less lean and more filled out, and appeared to be taking the time necessary to work his body to a sweat to maintain his impressive physique.

Olive-tanned torso and hair so dark it was almost black, which was in need of a trim, as the ends were curling.

Freaking Greek Adonis.

Peering down at her own dismal physique she sighed. It had been a while since she performed any sort of intentional exercise. The kind where you were purposely trying to trim up and build muscle. Not where you were running around with a kid perpetually hanging off your hip, avoiding obstacles like baby swings and play mats, in an attempt to clean the baby vomit running down your neck and down your bra line. All while trying to make it to daycare and then to class on time.

And then it was all about starting a business from scratch. Working late into the night, sometimes getting home after Mia had gone to bed as Angus finished washing the dinner dishes.

She leaned her head against her arm laid out on the back of the chair while she watched her lifelong crush do his thing.

Old habits die hard.

---