Felt myself grinning, too.
We got all the plants and some okra seeds in the ground. He showed us how to water. How different types got watered differently. It shocked me when he watered the tomatoes for severalminutesthen instructed us to let them dry out for a week.
The man knew his stuff, I’d give him that.
Once we ripped open a bag of natural mulch, he showed us how much to pack around the bottom of each plant. “This will help protect the little plants from the heat. The sun comes and sucks the moisture right out of the dirt. The mulch is a small barrier, but at least it’s something.”
I couldn’t help but slide glances Miranda’s direction as she leaned into the garden. We were working side by side and hertank top kept riding up on her hips. I didn’t understand how a few inches of skin could make me lose my head, but I was well on my way to half-mad, my thoughts spinning a thousand miles an hour.
A good dose of mulch had gathered on her bare thighs. I reached over and ran the back of my hand down her thigh, knocking the mulch into the grass. She froze, a handful cradled in her gloves. Her soft skin made me ache. I flipped my hand and did it one more time. Because…mulch. Let my thumb dust the top of her knee before pulling away.
Her brown eyes roamed my expression, trying to read. She saw how much I adored her. She had to. I doubted I could keep it off my face.
I winked, and she snapped her attention back to the garden, a gentle pink touching her cheek bones. I bit my bottom lip to keep from laughing.
With so many hands in the garden, we finished quickly. Kacey was filthy and was packing the plastic containers with mulch just for fun. He was a good listener and had done a great job when Richard handed him a tiny watering can.
Before I knew it, we were all heading inside, Miranda rattling off some dinner plans.
I couldn’t even comprehend how a mere two weeks ago I was coming home to an empty house. Fixing dinner and spending free time alone. Felt like a completely different life.
TWENTY-FIVE
Miranda
Idumped a load of laundry onto the couch and got to folding. The hot fabric scorched my fingers. Jack reassured me over and over that I didn’t need to do stuff for him. But I liked helping. Folding a bit of laundry here and there or making dinner made me feel part of a home. Maybe it was stupid to play pretend like that, but I couldn’t seem to help it.
A week had flashed by before my eyes. Jack worked odd hours. Sometimes through the night, sometimes he left mid-morning. He had enough seniority to pick better shifts, but he liked keeping things exciting. Before he left, he would stand out on the front porch, looking up and down the street with his hands on his hips before getting in the truck. He was worried and told me multiple times to keep my gun close. To pack my firearm if we went anywhere.
His vigilance made me feel safe.
Despite the turmoil of my life, I relaxed. My guard melted. I couldn’t help it. After months—well, years—of staying on thealert, it felt nice to let someone else look out for us. Without being asked, Jack hogged the protector role. The natural defender in him rose to the occasion.
Looking over my shoulder, deleting calls and texts on my phone, pretending to be happy constantly, apologizing to avoid conflict, and tip-toeing through a mine field…I was all too happy to stop doing those things. And once my defenses cracked, they crumbled.
If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t have been able to relax so quickly. But it was Jack. And I knew Jack. He wasn’t perfect—I knew more than anyone—but he wouldn’t hurt us, and we were safe here. It was why I was sleeping and eating better than I had in years.
Chris receded from my daily worries like a bad dream. He popped into my brain occasionally and I’d do my best not to dwell. My new life was here. In Tennessee. I was never going back. Never going to contact him.
Although it pained me to say it because I left everything I owned in his home. Even my scrapbooks. I should’ve grabbed them when I was moving out, but for some reason, I packed essentials only. Dumb.
Kacey and I stayed close to Jack’s house. I had no desire to go on any adventures. I went to the store a handful of times for an ingredient here or there. And I put in a few hours a day for my new virtual assistant job.
It wasn’t much, but one of Jack’s coworkers also ran a side gig on social media. She had told Jack she was swamped with the never-ending list of things to do. Of course, Jack said he knew the perfect person to assist her. She was the nicest lady and we hit it off. The pay was only $150 a week. But the shot in the arm it provided was worth a lot more.
Kacey and I spent hours outside. Either in our garden or in Richard’s. We watched buds emerge and our little seedlingssteadied on. I soaked in every word Richard said. I was determined to be a master gardener by the time our arrangement ended. Plus, he was a dear friend. Whenever I had to move on, it would break my heart to say goodbye.
When Jack was home at night, he made the wine a routine. He would put something emotionally non-draining on the TV then bring me a glass of red and a plate of food. I ate more in a week than I had in a month. And I was feelingsomuch better. The constant ache in my mid-section waned.
Which might be why I found myself in a freaking emotional spiral. Feeling things for Jack I shouldn’t. Mixing up left from right. Many times, I almost blurted the truth about Kacey to Jack. My heart was ready to have the conversation, but my brain said wait.
My body was a whole other problem. Jack was so unfairly handsome. His white teeth, blue eyes, olive skin, and dark facial stubble were a perfect contrast of color. He stretched every shirt he wore and could fill out a pair of jeans quite nicely. Whatever he did made the muscles in his forearms twitch—something I was oddly obsessed with. In fact, when we were married before, I made him play thumb wars with me so I could watch that sexy twitch.
All those minor attractions were just the starter pack.
He was so much more.
And the sweatshirt? I still hadn’t washed it. Every night it disappeared then magically reappeared the next morning.
