I straighten up and wipe my hands on the thighs of my pants. “A plant sitter?”
“Yes. I own a business.” Her inky brows fold. “And wipe that look off your face because I know it sounds weird, but I like it. I like babysitting plants.”
The corner of my mouth quirks up involuntarily. When I lean back under the hood, there’s a tap at my shoulder.
“You don’t have anything else to say?” she asks.
“I think you’ve said more than enough for the both of us.” I straighten up and turn to face her. “Start your car.”
She tilts her head but listens and turns back toward her car. I walk to mine, sliding in the driver’s seat and starting it. Easily, it kicks on, and I wait for hers to do the same. Ilisten as she tries, once, twice, three times. It sputters but doesn’t take.
Jumping from the car, she yells over to me, “It’s not working!”
I lean out, popping my head up over the top of my door so I have a full view of her. “I know. I can hear it.”
She throws a hand into the air, muttering something as she paces toward me. She looks pretty in the evening light, even if she doesn’t seem quite stable at the moment. I don’t blame her, from the bits and pieces I picked up from her ramble, she’s been goin’ through it.
“Take a deep breath.”
She scowls. “What do I do?”
“Try again.”
“Right. Of course.” Starting toward her car, she stops mid-step before turning back toward me.
Her eyes meet mine, and then she shakes her head, her black hair billowing as she does. Turning to face her car, I watch as she retreats, her hips swaying. I let my eyes travel down the length of her legs. They’re smooth, as tan as her complexion will allow, and toned. Toned legs, crop top, spandex shorts. I know why she’s here. Before meeting with Catch-A-Dream, Coach instructed us not to visit our wing of the facility. Due to the renovations, it was being used for the cheerleaders. Today was the last day of Kings Cheerleader tryouts. There’s no reason anyone else in our entire complex would be wearing something likethis. It also explains why she’s here so late.
She’s a cheerleader. And she just made the team.
Am I really checking out the girl that’s on the verge of crashing out? The one my contract explicitly says to avoid?
She turns to face me, her frown flipping into a pretty smile as she slips into her driver’s seat.
Yes. Yes, I am.
I lean over the top of my door as the brunette mumbles something to herself, takes a deep breath, and throws her elbow into starting her car. I chuckle at the visual, but something she did works because it stammers to a start. Jumping from the driver’s seat, she bounces up and down, shrieking and clapping. “You did it! You did it!”
I step out of my SUV and close the short distance between our vehicles. “You got it to start.”
“You did the cable thing.”
“I did.”
Stepping closer, her face tilts skyward, her hazel eyes sparkling as she beams up at me. A smattering of tawny freckles spills across her cheeks, barely visible in the low light. She’s about as high as my shoulder, and I realize that her height is the perfect height for kissing. No awkward knee bending, no full-body curl to meet her mouth. Just a little tilt forward and…
What’s wrong with you? Kissing height? Come on.
I step back as she lifts her hand, aiming for a pat on my shoulder but misses, and the motion falls short. Clapping her hands together, she backs away. “So, what now?”
“We let them run. They need at least five to ten minutes before we move your car.” I break eye contact, my eyes dipping to her front tire, which looks deflated. “When was the last time you serviced your vehicle?”
Her eyes follow mine. “Why?”
I nod toward her tire. “This one’s pretty low. I’ll check the rest, too. When was the last time you filledthem?”
“If I’m being frank, I don’t know. That stuff costs money, and in case you missed what I said earlier, I’m a little short on that right about now. Aren’t we all?”
I glance back at her as she follows me to my SUV, watching as I pull a tire gauge from my glovebox. We round her car, and I crouch to start my work.
