Sighing, I sat down, glaring at the tenacious, matted weeds that had had their way for too long, then tugged again. Darn weeds. Stubborn, just like their new owner.
“This is how you get them out,” Aaron said, holding a small hand hoe with a sharp, angled blade in his hand. “Use this. It’s good for getting into the hard-to-remove ones. Let me show you.” He knelt at my side and worked the tool effortlessly into the ground. Of course. I sighed. Well, he did have more muscles than me.
I sipped more of my water.
“So, you and War, huh?” He looked up, pulling out a thick knot of weeds, brown eyes curious. “You both just casual or…? I mean, you said friends?”
I lowered my bottle, knew this was coming after my slip from earlier. Double damn. I hurriedly deflected, “You make this look so easy—”
“Makes what look easy?” War asked.
I jumped, my heart knocking around hard in my chest, and glanced up, shading my eyes from the sun. War loomed over us. His expression appeared calm, his stare almost hypnotic…like a snake’s, and a little too cold.
“Oh, Aaron was showing me how to get the more stubborn weeds out,” I said airily.
Aaron shot me a big smile, handed me the hoe, then rose and wandered back to his father, who shook his head.
“He makes it look so easy. Of course, he has more muscles than me,” I tacked on. And those deep blue eyes narrowed. Yup, brain and mouth never did connect at the same time for me. A change of conversation was urgently required at the storm clouds gathering in his darkening stare. “I think he was about to ask me for your autograph.”
“I doubt that very much.”
I rolled my eyes, set my water down, and went back to work. Best to retreat while I could.
“You don’t have to break your back, Charli,” he said then, irritation embedded in every syllable. “Take a break. Eat something. I have food in the freezer. Most is prepared, just pop it into the oven.”
What? He wanted me out of the way now?
“By the way—” I glowered at him, keeping my voice low. “He thinks I’m your girlfriend. I didn’t correct him, but you need to fixthatmess fast.”
“Did you tell himyouput up the snapshot of your hockey playerboyfriend?” he asked softly, the storm cloud glare dissipating. “You know, the kissing one?”
My face flared hotter than the sun.
“Just so you understand, Blue, he comes near you, I will toss him into the sea.” He swiped my water, guzzled some, shoved the bottle in my hand, and stalked off.
Jesus. Territorial much?
I didn’t know what to make of him. Or why he was in a shitty mood.
Either way, I didn’t care. He had to fix this mess—untangle this web I was caught in—fast. My mother was probably halfway over the Atlantic and likely hadn’t accessed her social media yet. Or else, I would already be assailed with messages and calls. And that, I didn’t want. Mother might screw her life over with her choices in men, but mine she watched like a hawk.
She hadn’t liked Craig, and she’d made it known how poormychoices in men were.
Yeah, no. I certainly didn’t need further disruptions in my life.
