I was surprised that Kelsey seemed to be on board with the possibility of me and Logan. It wasn’t going to happen, but still…my heart seemed to lighten at the idea. Ugh. Go away, bad thought. “Don’t worry. I’m being careful, and so far, things are going just as planned.”
* * *
“It is sohotout here!”Pause. “I could really go for some lemonade or maybe some pie or something.” Pause. “Or cake?”
Logan’s voice carried from the porch all the way across the driveway to where I was sitting with my feet propped up on the fruit table. The book in my lap and my feet on the table probably gave an impression that the day had been a lazy one. Not so. I had been run ragged all day with orders and people. I had sent my dad back to the greenhouse twice to pick the rest of our ripe berries. Now, I was finally enjoying a moment of peace in the last few minutes we were open—or trying to.
“My mouth. It feels like cotton. I can hardly swallow. If it was my last day on earth, do you know what I would want? Lemonade. Or cake. Or pie.” Pause. “Maybe all three.”
The smile I was holding back finally broke across my face. I sighed and put my book down. Logan had shown up just after 5 p.m., wearing his toolbelt, his baseball hat, and an empty stomach, apparently. I dropped my feet from the table and stood, turning to face Logan, who was kneeling on our front porch, shooting nails into the new floorboards. His toned arms bulging out of a white t-shirt had me giving him an appreciative second glance. I strode across the driveway and up the porch before he turned with a sparkle in his eyes as he heard me approach.
“Oh, hey, Tessa. I didn’t know you were out here.”
I laughed. “I’m only doing this to shut you up, even though it goes against YOUR rules. If any cars come while I’m gone, take all their money.”
His low chuckle met my ears as the screen door slammed shut behind me. As was my habit every time I entered the house during work hours, I ran upstairs to check on my mom. She was getting stronger every day but had been frustrated with her lack of progress.
“Mom, everything alright? Do you need anything?” I stopped short when I saw her standing up, coming out of the bathroom, bent over her walker, walking like a ninety-five-year-old as opposed to the usually vibrant woman in her mid-fifties that she really was.
“Hey, you’re supposed to call me if you need the bathroom.”
She looked up at me proudly. “Consider yourself off the hook from bathroom duty from now on.”
“Good job. Look at how good you’re doing.” I channeled my best Nate impression and clucked and cooed over her steps.
Her eyes narrowed as she shook her head. I should have known I couldn’t fool my mom. “Yes. It’s only been three weeks, and look, I can go to the bathroom all by myself.”
“Well, most people don’t have both of their legs sawed open and their parts replaced. You’re doing great. You hungry?”
“I’m still working on the lunch you brought me earlier. Is your dad watching the fruit stand?”
My cheeks colored slightly for no good reason at all. “No, Logan is. He’s here working on the porch and guilted me into getting him some treats, so I snuck in here to check on you.”
I backed out of the room when her expression turned to intrigue before she could press me for anything else.
“Get back here, Tessa Robbins! I need more details.”
“Bye, Mom, good chat.” At the moment, having a semi-invalid mother definitely had its perks. I wasn’topposedto talking with my mother about things, but given my current situation, where would I even begin?
In the kitchen, I searched for a can of frozen lemonade concentrate in the freezer and mixed it with water because...I don’t know, I seemed like the type of person who makes lemonade when a boy talks about being thirsty—not to impress him, but because it sounded good. I grabbed a paper plate and filled it with four raspberry-lemon bars I had made yesterday. As annoying as raspberries were to pick and take care of, they were my absolute favorite fruit to eat. I popped one in my mouth, grabbed the lemonade, paper cups, and the treats, and walked back outside.
Logan stood and stretched his back when I approached him. I handed him his plate of goodies and glass of lemonade, gave a small bow, and started for the stairs.
He blocked my exit by kicking his leg out in front of me. “Wait a minute. Where are you going?”
“I’m at a good part in my book.”
“No way. If your dad catches me being lazy by myself, I’ll get fired. If I’m on break, you have to be the one forcing me to stop.”
“Forcing you to stop?”
He only smiled and motioned me toward the porch swing, settling down next to me with a sigh.
Dear Diary,
Logan Marten’s warm body is pressed up against my side. And we’re swinging on the porch together, and it’s freaking adorable. But don’t worry, my heart is still safe.
XOXO
