Teresa Hill - Single Mum Seeks…

Lily opened the refrigerator door, thinking…a pitcher of iced tea?

Yes, she had one, very nearly full.

And some cookies?

She checked the cabinets. No cookie mix. Lily dug a little deeper, then sucked in a breath, feeling uneasy once again.

No, she didn’t have any cookie mix.

But she had what she needed to make a batch of fudge.

Neighborly, she muttered to herself, as she marched across the yard with the pitcher of tea, four plastic glasses tucked under her arm, and a batch of still-warm fudge.

Just be neighborly.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

She made it to the back of the truck and could hear someone swearing softly from inside the enclosed space, and when she paused right behind the truck and looked in, she found him, eyes narrowed in concentration, right shoulder pressed up against a huge box that had snagged on the corner of another one and then didn’t want to budge.

Up close, in his face she saw a toughness and a certain strength, eyes so dark they were almost black and flashing with irritation at the moment. He had an ultra-firm jaw, a head full of thick, dark brown hair that he wore a little too long, and what seemed like miles and miles of bare, brown skin.

It was all that skin and muscles that did it to her.

She started to feel hot all over again and thought about cooling her forehead with the tea pitcher, which was already sweating with condensation from the heat.

She’d be taking her temperature again when she got home, just to make sure. Because something wasn’t right here.

“Hi. Can I help you, ma’am?” a deep voice said from behind her.

“Oh!” She startled, nearly spilling the tea before the nearly grown teenager, all arms and legs and hair, grabbed it and saved it.

“Jake!” the man who had made her feverish called out from behind her.

“Sorry,” the kid, Jake, said. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“Oh. No. It’s all right. I just…didn’t hear you.” I was too busy becoming feverish, possibly over your father.

How embarrassing.

Did the kid know women reacted this way to his father?

Did his gorgeous dad know?

Lily wanted to sink into the rhododendron behind her.

“It’s okay.” The kid pointed to the plate of hot fudge in her hand. “Is that for us?”

“Jake!” The man, standing at the edge of the truck bed and looking down at them both, made the name sound like an order, not to be ignored.

A mind-your-manners-or-else order.

Lily glanced up at him nervously, then quickly looked away. Tall, hot, all muscles and no smile, she saw in a flash.

“Sorry.” The kid looked properly apologetic. “I just…It’s hot, and we’ve been at this for hours, and I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” the man said, command still evident in the voice.

“Yes,” Lily said, jumping in to save the boy. “I have nephews who are about your age. I know teenage boys are always hungry, and I thought I’d come over and…introduce myself.”

“Sweet,” Jake said, sounding truly appreciative as she held out the plate to him. “Jake Elliott. This is my uncle, Nick Malone.”

Uncle.

Not dad.

Did they have a moving company together? Or maybe Jake and his family were moving in, and Uncle Nick was just helping out?

“I’m Lily Tanner, from next door.” She nodded toward her house, then held up the pitcher. “Would you like some sweet tea?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jake said, his mouth already full of fudge. “Hey, it’s still all warm and gooey. Did you just make this?”

“Yes,” Lily said.

“Sweet!”

Which she knew was his generation’s current equivalent of cool.

“I bet she was thinking the fudge might make a good snack for later on,” his uncle pointed out. “And before you stick any more of it in your mouth, you could say thank-you.”

“Thanks,” Jake muttered with a mouth full of fudge. “Really, ma’am. It’s great.”

“You’re welcome.” She offered him a plastic cup and then filled it with tea.

Lily braced herself to face Uncle Nick, who’d just jumped down out of the truck bed and onto the ground, landing just a tad too close for her own comfort.

He immediately grabbed a worn, white T-shirt from the truck bed and pulled it on in what Lily could only describe as a truly impressive rippling, flexing mix of muscles in his arms and chest.

She appreciated that, she told herself, he would cover up that way. And she’d have thought maybe her mysterious fever would have gone away, once he was more covered up. But no, it hadn’t.

If anything, it was even hotter now that he was closer and staring at her with those intense, dark eyes of his and a jaw like granite.

“Sorry,” he said. “I feel like I’ve told him a million times already to say please and thank-you, and it just never seems to sink in.”

“I know. It’s the same thing with my girls.”

“You have girls?” Jake piped up at that.

Lily smiled at him. “Much too young for you, I’m afraid.”

“I’m only fifteen,” he said.

Which had to be impossible, it seemed. He was positively overgrown, this big, awkward, hulking thing who towered over her. The only thing boyish about him was his face.

“I know. I just look older,” Jake said.

“You do. But my girls are only six and nine.”

“Oh.” He shrugged, like it was no big deal.

Lily was sure he had more girls than he could handle flirting with him, just like they must flirt with his uncle.

“I’m gonna go inside. Get out of the sun for a minute,” Jake said, turning to leave. “Thanks again, Mrs. Tanner. This is great.”

“You’re welcome,” Lily said, then found herself completely tongue-tied.

Flustered.

Flushed, she feared.

Feeling foolish.

She held out a cup to Mr. Tough-and-Sweaty, thinking sweat had surely never looked so good as it did on him.

“Thank you,” he said, taking the cup and holding it out for her to fill, then shook his head. “That little rat escaped with all the fudge, didn’t he?”

Lily smiled, not too big a smile, she hoped. Not like she was trying to flirt or anything. “I think he did. You should probably hurry inside. If he’s anything like my nephews, he could down the whole plate easily inside of five minutes.”

“Sounds like Jake,” he agreed, tipping his head back as he took a long swallow of tea. “Wow, that’s good.”

“You’re welcome to keep the pitcher,” she offered. “I thought your refrigerator must be empty, and it’s supposed to be in the nineties today, so…I just thought this was a good idea.”

“It was. Jake and I appreciate it.”

“So…are you moving in? Or is Jake and his family?” She hoped she sounded neighborly and nothing more, and that the flush on her face didn’t give her away.

“Just Jake and me,” he said, his expression if possible becoming even more stern. “My sister and her husband died in a car accident six weeks ago. They have twin boys in college at Virginia Commonwealth. Jake’s their youngest. Other than the twins, I’m what passes for his family now.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry,” she said.

And here she had been admiring every bit of him, right down to the sweat on his brow. Admiring the sweat of a grieving man with a grieving teenage boy.

“Thanks. It’s still a little raw, but—”

“Of course. I’m sorry I even asked—”

“No. I’m glad you did. Glad you asked me and not him. He’s…uh…well, it still throws him, getting the question and not knowing what to say.”

“Of course. My girls were the same way when my husband and I divorced. I mean, I know it’s not the same thing, but…they hated having everyone ask, and then having to explain about their father not living with us anymore.”