“No, which is exactly why I need the rules now.”
“You’re zero fun. I hope you know that.”
“I can live with that.” Knowing she couldn’t—and that was one of the reasons she would ultimately leave—was good enough for me. “Also, I’m not putting in a garden.”
“Oh, but it will be so pretty,” she protested.
“I have other plans for the yard.”
“That sounds ominous.”
I merely smiled. “I guess that depends on what direction you’re looking at it from.”
18
EIGHTEEN
Sometimes I needed a change of scenery when writing. My book was halfway done, and I knew exactly where it was going. That was a good feeling, the best actually, and I was making progress on my secret book as well. That one wasn’t as far along, but I was having so much fun writing it that I put in extra hours almost every single day. Today I decided I wanted to write outside—I had a specific scene I was working on and needed inspiration—so I found a table near the Franklin Creek Pool and settled.
It wasn’t very busy during the afternoons, when the kids were at school, but I purposely positioned myself as far away from the hubbub as possible. I could still hear ambient noise, but I tuned it out and focused. I was so lost in what I was doing that two hours went by without me registering it. The only reason I looked away from my screen at all was because a shadow suddenly loomed over me.
“Fancy meeting you here,” a female voice drawled.
I jerked up my chin, my heart turning over like a rusty engine on an old car, and sucked in a breath. Bree stood there grinning, a hobo bag slung over her shoulder. She’d pulled back her hairinto twin braids and had a colorful scarf over the top. She looked younger than I knew she was, and her smile did funny things to my insides.
“Hey,” I said breathlessly.
She grinned. “Hey. Are you…?” She pointed toward my computer.
“Sometimes I like to write in nature that is not my yard,” I admitted.
“Do you come here often?”
If I hadn’t known her better, I would have thought she was trying to pick me up. “I do, but only during the week when the kids are at school. When they’re out of school and on the weekends, it’s way too loud.”
She nodded. “I saw this place when I was driving by on my cart about a week ago and planned to do the same thing. It looked peaceful.”
I smiled.
She smiled.
“If this is your place, though,” she said, shifting from one foot to the other, “you probably don’t want me hanging around.”
I reacted like an idiot. “No.” I tried to stand. Why, I had no idea. My foot caught around the leg of my chair, and I lurched forward.
She tried to catch me—her reflexes weren’t as fast as either of us would have liked—but I was too heavy. We both ended up sprawled on the ground.
“Oh, geez.” I rolled quickly when I realized I was on top of her but somehow didn’t fall off. “Are you okay?”
She looked as if I’d knocked the wind out of her. Her cheeks were pink, her blue eyes bursting with amusement and confusion. She blew out a laugh when I didn’t get off her and continued staring into the ridiculous blues of her eyes.
“Are you okay?” I repeated. Feeling like an idiot was normal for me—I could shrug that off—but I was legitimately worried I’d hurt her.
“I’m fine,” she assured me. “It wasn’t a catastrophic fall.”
“Are you sure?”
She nodded.
