I had an embarrassing flashback to when Coco and I were still in high school and we’d “accidentally” forget something in the girl’s locker room once a week during varsity basketball practice.
We were women of principles and we could hardly tolerate any of the jocks that ran the school’s social hierarchy. But damn, there was something about shirtless, sweaty boys that made it easy to set our convictions aside for an eye full of man candy.
Which sounded totally lurid and insane. I know. Believe me, I know.
And yet, with Levi standing in front of me like this, low slung shorts showing off a tapered waist and a six pack and God, those tanned biceps and the smattering of hair across his chest that had not been there seven years ago, it didn’t feel so insane. It felt natural. I couldn’t help but ogle him.
And he was slick with sweat! And oh, my god, he couldn’t be real. A body like that had to be the product of my overactive imagination.
“Remember when you and Coco used to sneak into basketball practice and watch us?” Levi asked, totally throwing my memories in my face and calling out my ogling. “I’m glad to see you’re still as perverted as you were back then, Ruby.”
I folded my arms over my chest and glared at him, wishing I was at least wearing a real bra, with real support and not this boob smasher thing I had on. “Those are false allegations.”
“Mommy, what’s pre-fert-ed mean?” Max asked.
I glanced at my son before bugging my eyes out at Levi. He stifled a laugh. “Oh, no, I’m sorry,” he immediately relented. “Ruby, I’m sorry.”
Rolling my eyes, I waved him off. Honestly that was a tamer word than usual. And Max was unfortunately used to grownups saying words he wasn’t supposed to hear by now. “I’ll tell you later, okay? Why don’t you go find a great big stick and let Mommy talk to the scary man.”
Max tilted his head at Levi. “I don’t think he’s scary.”
“Ha! Looks can be deceiving,” I mumbled to no one in particular. “Go on, babe. Find a stick.”
He looked up at me like I’d grown a second head. “Then what?”
“Then… then whack that cornstalk with it.”
“Why?”
“Because it needs to be whacked.”
“Why?”
Levi walked closer. “Just pretend it’s Darth Vader and you’re on a mission to save the galaxy.”
Max’s attention swung back to Levi. “Who’s Dark Faber?”
“Who’s Darth Vader?” Levi repeated, stunned. “What do you mean, who’s Darth Vader?” To me he said. “What kind of parent are you? He doesn’t know who Darth Vader is?”
“He’s six,” I reminded him patiently.
“Exactly the right age to know about the glory that is Star Wars. You’re depriving him of a fantastic childhood.”
“Are you seriously giving me parenting advice right now?”
He leaned forward. “Are you seriously considering passing it up? It’s good advice.”
A frustrated growl rumbled in the back of my throat. Max, getting bored with our back and forth, wandered off to whack the cornstalk. Levi and I watched him in silence for a minute.
Eventually, curiosity got the better of me. “What are you doing here, Levi? Why are you in my neck of the woods?”
He shrugged, and that damnable smile was back. “I feel bad about the other day… about the gas station.”
I couldn’t let him get away with his behavior then nor now. Or the questions he was hell bent on asking. Or the sheepish, repentant smile he was wielding like a weapon. “You have no right to stick your nose in my business, Cole.”
He shrugged. “I’m trying to say I’m sorry.”
It wasn’t exactly a promise to leave me alone, but Levi didn’t usually give me what I wanted. This was probably the best I could ask for, and yet, I couldn’t let him get away that easily. I lifted a hand, half hidden in the sleeve of my shirt, and pointed a finger at him. “You can mess with me, Levi, but you better not hurt my son. Got it?”
