Page 21 of Just Ten Seconds

“No,” he answers incredulously. “It got me off the couch. She wasn’t telling me to move on. She was telling me to move. Do something.”

“What was the first thing you did?”

“I made breakfast for Amanda. Nothing fancy. A bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and a banana.” He rubs his jaw. “I sat with her at eight o’clock in the morning, and she talked my ear off until ten. While I’d slept a week away, she had been living it. My parents had taken her to school and the zoo and played cards with her, and they just did things. It hasn’t been easy, but I’ve made it a point to not stop moving again.”

I look down at the white saucer under my mug. There’s a chip in it, a small, dark vein that runs through the plate. That’s how I feel sometimes. Useful, but if someone mishandles me, I’ll crack more and eventually shatter.

That’s why I don’t move too much. It’s not that I don’t want to, but the fear of going too fast will shatter me. And yet, here is this man who is saying he’s achieved the unthinkable.

He didn’t move on. He just moved.

“I like that,” I tell him. “It doesn’t seem so scary.”

“Sometimes, talking to someone helps. I guarantee it.”

My palms start to itch, so I give them a scratch and grip my mug tighter. “Well, ‘I can get a good look at a T-bone by sticking my head up a bull’s ass, but I’d rather take a butcher’s word for it.’ ” No sooner are the words out of my mouth than my hands are flying up to my face and covering my mouth in mortification. “Oh my God. I’m sorry. I wasn’t being rude. I just … sometimes, when I get nervous, I say stupid things. My best friend and I play this game where we quote movies and—”

“Did you just quote Tommy Boy?” His eyes are wide, and his jaw is dropped with raised cheeks in a look that’s a mixture of surprised and impressed.

“Yes?” It comes out as a question, as I wonder if my weirdness is an issue for him.

He leans back with a belly laugh—a beautiful, soul-punching bellow—and raps his knuckles on the table. “That is quite possibly the sexiest thing a woman has ever said to me.”

“Really?”

“I hope there’s more where that came from.” He leans back with one hand on the table and the other rubbing his jaw.

“You don’t want to know what goes on in this head of mine.”

“Try me,” he dares.

I don’t take the bait. Instead, I shake off the way he’s captivating my thoughts with his appealing mannerisms and pleasant conversation. I don’t even think he’s trying. He’s just naturally entrancing.

“What do you do for a living?” I ask.

“I’m a residential contractor. Blue Diamond Renovations.”

“You build homes?”

He nods. “Mostly developments. Spec houses where the buyer has one of five blueprints to choose from.”

“That’s cool. There’s a new one down the road from me. They just sold the model home. I got one of those laminated postcards in the mail. Three-bedroom, center-hall colonial with a designer kitchen and loads of amenities!” My voice is animated with jazz hands.

“Where do you live?” he asks, grabbing his mug.

“On Runyon. You wouldn’t know it’s there unless you live in the area or hike.”

He takes a sip, and I watch as his Adam’s apple bobs with the swallow. “I know where it is. That’s my development. The one you’re talking about. The model they sold is my home. My realtor sent those out as a way to advertise the project.” He pauses. “You look confused.”

I blink at his comment. I didn’t realize I had made a face. “Your address. When I wrote it on the medical forms, it didn’t look familiar. I wouldn’t have guessed it was so close to me.”

“The best thing about building a development is, you get to name the street. I named mine Esperança Court. It means hope.”

“That’s … that’s really beautiful.” Not just the name. I even like the way it rolls off his tongue, sounding like Esperanza. “My landlady says you’re going to build mausoleums. That’s the word she uses when she talks about the brick mini-mansions that take up every square inch of space.”

Taking a sip of coffee, he grins like he’s letting me in on a secret. “I am.”

My eyes widen in humiliation. “I didn’t mean to offend.”