Heat flooded Debbie’s face. “Apparently not.” She wouldn’t admit she’d been distracted by his backside.
He bent to help pick up the easter eggs rocking and rolling around her feet.
She dropped to her knees and filled her arms with the colorful sugar-filled orbs. The combination of fresh air, sawdust, and natural male musk hit her, and her attraction toward the man took root.
He was new in town, within the last year or so. She’d seen him at the soccer fields a few times when she went to her nephews’ games.
If he has kids, he’s likely married.
Too bad. He was one attractive man.
“Can you believe it’s almost Easter?” His deep voice was warm, velvety, and mellow, reminding her of the feeling she got every time she sank into a warm bath.
Additional heat filled her cheeks.
Great. I probably look like a tomato. An awkward, clumsy tomato.
“I know. It feels like Christmas was just last week.” She attempted to stack the eggs in the over-sized cartons. The first layer went fine, but the second layer didn’t cooperate, and more eggs fell on the floor.
“Here,” he said, “you hold the box, and I’ll put the eggs in.”
Debbie did as he suggested, catching her breath every time his arm brushed hers. After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a few minutes, they stood and brushed off their knees.
“Thanks for your help. I never would have gotten them all stacked by myself.”
“No problem.” He smiled, and his eyes twinkled again. “Drive careful now.”
Debbie laughed, letting herself watch him walk away for only a second before she tore her gaze away and carefully pushed her cart to the next aisle. The grocery store would be closing soon, so she needed to finish her shopping.
She was almost done with her list when her phone pinged again.
Gina Pratt’s name lit her screen.
Debbie’s hand trembled as her finger hovered over the text. It was either good news or bad news. She had done everything the social worker asked. She’d taken the required classes and childproofed her whole house. She already had twin beds because her nephews slept over occasionally, and she’d bought a crib. The only thing she hadn’t done yet was buy a bigger vehicle that could accommodate kids and car seats, but she was planning on it. As soon as her brother Scott was able to accompany her.
Debbie wasn’t sure she could handle it if the social worker told her she’d been denied. Becoming a foster parent with the prospect of being able to adopt was her only chance at becoming a mom.
Not true. She could adopt. In fact, she’d even started the process to adopt an infant, but that process was rarely fast and could be heart-wrenching when things fell through. She didn’t hold out hope something would happen on that front anytime soon, since most women who put their babies up for adoption wanted them to go to homes with two parents.
Taking a deep breath, she tapped on Gina’s message.
Congratulations, Debbie! Your paperwork is all in order and you have been approved to be a foster parent.
Debbie bit back the squeal that erupted from her, letting out only a small squeak. She didn’t even try to fight the happy dance that had her tennis shoes tapping on the floor.
She checked to make sure she was still alone in the aisle before pulling her gaze back to read the rest of Gina’s text.
When I bring you a child to foster, I’ll try to bring everything they need. But it might be good for you to have a few diapers, formula, and bottles on hand.
Debbie’s chest expanded with warmth.
Diapers!
She’d never bought diapers for herself before. She laughed out loud as she pointed her cart toward the baby section.
Of course, I’ve never bought diapers for myself.
But she’d never brought diapers to her home for a child she would be caring for either.
