Not smiling became harder. “Fighting would probably be easier that way.”
Ryder laughed.
Suddenly, Josephine said, “I plan to sew her a pair or two tonight using a shirt that doesn’t fit Ryder anymore.” Carrying the broom, she stopped beside her son and tunneled the fingers of her free hand through his thick mop of always-disheveled fair hair. Not quite meeting Hendrix’s gaze, she asked, “How are you, Mr. Becker?”
So now he was Mr. Becker? Something was up, but what?
Tucking his hands into his pockets, Hendrix resisted the urge to clear his throat like an awkward teenager. “If I could have a word?”
For a moment, she visibly faltered, then she met his gaze. “Actually, Ryder and I were just about to eat.”
Bouncing, Ryder reached for his hand and said, “Eat with us, Mr. Becker! Mom makes great peanut butter sandwiches.” Switching his green-eyed gaze to Josephine, he said, “Can he, Mom? Please?”
As if it was only up to her? Hendrix said, “Actually –”
At almost the same time, Josephine blanched and said, “Oh, but –”
“Please?”Tugging on him, Ryder tried to sway them both. “C’mon. It’ll be fun. Please, please, please.”
“That’s enough, Ryder.” Josephine stepped back. “Get your toys together and then go in and wash your hands.”
With a pitifully long face, his skinny shoulders dramatically drooping, Ryder turned away. He dragged his feet as if cement blocks were tied to them.
Hendrix couldn’t take it, damn it. “Fine. I’ll join you – after I’ve spoken with your mother.”
Just like that, Ryder rebounded, jumping into the air with a loud whoop, then racing off before Josephine could chide him.
Scowling at Hendrix, she started to speak, but he beat her to it.
“There’s been a misunderstanding. No one is supposed to be here in December. I assume you plan to be leaving shortly?” There. He’d been quick and to the point, blunt enough that she wouldn’t dare argue.
Chin lifting, she said, “I can’t.”
Slowly, his brows gathered together. “Can’t what?”
“Leave.”
Well, that confounded him. “Josephine...”
“Come off it, Hendrix. You know I go by Joey, and I only call you Mr. Becker when Ryder is listening. It’s not easy to teach manners to a seven-year-old.”
Hendrix ran a hand over his bristly jaw. Since he was kicking her out, it didn’t feel right to be familiar with her now. He didn’t want to be...anythingwith her, no matter how she tempted him. “Fine. Joey.”
“You barely managed to get those two words out between your teeth. Why are they clenched?”
“What?”
“Your teeth. Why are you grinding them together like that?”
Before he could stop himself, he did a little more grinding.
Joey smiled at him, a mocking smile that sparked unfamiliar feelings, not all of them annoyance. “Relax, Hendrix.”
Oh no, she would not boss him, not even with her pretty smile. “Why is Ryder playing with a half-naked Barbie?” Damn it, that wasn’t at all what he meant to say.
“Because he wanted Wonder Woman and all I could afford was a secondhand Barbie, sans pants. He has an old red T-shirt and I’m going to try my hand at creating a costume. Don’t expect much though. Other than patching a hole, I’ve never shown any seamstress skills.”
He didn’t expect anything, because she shouldn’t be around here sweeping walkways and sewing pants so Barbie wouldn’t have her ass on display.
