“What were you thinking of doing with your grandmother’s house? Anything other than painting?”
“I haven’t thought much about it. I know it needs new appliances, and the porch railing looks a bit rotted. I probably should get an inspector to come out and tell me what else has to be done.”
“Not a bad idea. Sometimes, you have dry rot or bug infestations that aren’t apparent. I know a local guy if you want his name. He’s fair and I trust him. You don’t want to end up with someone who’ll tell you the house is falling apart and then hook you up with friends for a kickback.”
“Thanks, Theo. I appreciate it. Maybe you can give me his name and number tonight at dinner.”
“Sure. Anything special you have a hankering for? I was planning to stop at the grocery store on my way home.”
“I don’t want to put you out. Whatever you and Jordan like.”
“Tacos?” Geesh, why had he said that? The memory of the two of them making tacos and creating a mess rolled past his vision. Then, how they’d licked each other clean afterward. Stupid, stupid. Not the right time to be having those thoughts.
Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink, and her gaze flicked away. She remembered, too.
“I like tacos.” Her eyes still couldn’t meet his.
Grinning, he said, “We’ll try and be a little neater tonight.” Oh, God, what in the world had come over him? And why was it they were more comfortable with each other now than last week, when every second had been the epitome of awkward?
When they got to the spot they’d be working on today, he slid the chainsaw to the ground, then helped her remove her backpack. Tammi and Kelly came over and started chatting with Chelsea, so he moved away. He needed to kick his brain into gear for what had to be accomplished today. Starting up the chainsaw, he let the loud sound distract him.
All day he couldn’t stop looking to see where she was, couldn’t stop from reaching out to steady her as she moved over some fallen logs, couldn’t stop thinking about tonight when she came over for dinner…and then later after Jordan went to sleep. Would they be able to talk a while, or would she want to skip out once their daughter was down? What didhewant? He still didn’t know. There were too many unanswered questions, ones he wasn’t sure Chelsea was strong enough to answer yet. Today, she certainly seemed better.
As she rested against a tree, he approached and leaned in, taking her hand. “You’ll need a manicure after this week, even with the gloves on.”
Her answering smile did him in again. After stroking the etching on her wedding ring, he lowered her hand yet hated to stop touching it. This connection was making him stronger, too. Giving him back something he’d long forgotten.
When Tammi strolled by dragging a large branch, he took the cumbersome piece of wood, then started up the chainsaw. Tammi edged closer to Chelsea, as did Kelly. He wasn’t usually a snoop, but since the two women kept glancing his way, he had to assume they were talking about him.
Once the roar of the machine died down, he angled himself closer to eavesdrop.
“Theo’s a great guy, but don’t set your sights on him, honey,” Kelly said. “He hasn’t gotten over his wife, though she hasn’t been around in years.”
“Yeah,” Tammi joined in. “We don’t want to see you hurt.”
Chelsea’s eyes sought his, and he quickly stepped toward them. “Now, listen, ladies. This isn’t—”
“Any of our business. Yes, we know,” Tammi replied. “But we don’t want Chelsea to get hurt. If you were to finally cut ties with that no-good wife who abandoned her own child—"
“Excuse me,” Chelsea said and stumbled past them. He started after her, but she shook him off, picked up a rake, and went to work on a section a few hundred yards down.
“Theo, we’re sorry,” Kelly said, patting his arm. “We like Chelsea, but be honest. You’re still hung up on that wife of yours. It wouldn’t be fair to any other woman for you to lead them on.”
“I’m not leading her on.” Heck, maybe he was. And it was time some people knew the truth. Chelsea claimed she wasn’t going anywhere. They’d eventually find out who she was.
Rubbing his eyes with his fingers, he sighed deeply and looked to where she had gone. “Chelsea is my wife. Jordan’s mother.”
“She’s what?” Tammi asked. “Holy cow. Now that you say it, she does look exactly like that little girl.”
The surprise in their expression was expected but not the disdain. These two ladies were some of the nicest he’d met in the past four years, and they’d been amazing to him. But now their glares moved to the woman who had given him Jordan.
Following Chelsea’s movements with his eyes, he said to them, “Don’t judge. Not when you don’t know the whole story.”
He didn’t even know the whole story. Soon. Soon, they’d have to hash things out. Get to the bottom of what had gone down. His gut told him her father had been involved with more than simply lying about the baby. Too bad his gut hadn’t protested more years ago. His pride had taken over then.
When Chelsea picked up her backpack and slipped it on her shoulder, his stomach fell. Where was she going? Hotfooting it, he caught up with her.
“Listen, Chel. They don’t know—”
