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“Weeding. Or trying to—I don’t seem to be getting very far.” She dropped to her knees beside the row of bush beans, and picked up her hand tool. “Want to help?”
Thad made a face as he hunkered down beside her. He knew it wasn’t going to win him any points with her, but he decided to be honest with her anyway. “It’s not really my thing.”
She shot him a glance from beneath a fringe of thick, chestnut-colored lashes. “That’s surprising, given the fact your dad owns a gardening and landscape business.”
Deciding if he was going to hang around, he might as well get comfortable, Thad shrugged and dropped to the grass beside her. He reclined next to her, long legs stretched out, the weight of his torso resting on his bent elbow. “I never was much for rooting around in the dirt.”
She rooted out a sticker bush and a clump of dandelion with a practiced motion of the spade and set them aside. “Nicely put.”
“Not that you don’t look good doing it.” She did. She really did. Watching the play of worn denim across her slender thighs and delectably sweet butt, and the taut stretch of cotton across her breasts, it was all he could do not to tumble her here and now and see how far he’d get in his pursuit of her. The responsible adult part of her might protest, but the reckless impetuous woman and wild heart inside would probably be all for it.
Unfortunately, the fact was they were in broad daylight, and there wasn’t so much as a privacy fence or decent hedge to shield them from the prying eyes of the neighbors, so any real move on his part would have to wait.
She grinned over at him. “Flattery will get you precisely…nowhere.”
“Then how about a date?” Thad asked, beginning to realize he wanted a lot more than a few stolen kisses or casual conversations with her. He let his glance rove her hair, her face, her lips, before returning ever so slowly and deliberately to her molten amber eyes. “Where will that get me?”
Chapter Four
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Janey said, wishing she had on something aside from her threadbare shorts and T-shirt.
Thad continued reclining beside her, looking like there was no place on earth he would rather be. “Do I look like I’m kidding?” he asked with a sexy half smile.
No, Janey thought. He looked like he wanted to kiss her again. And she couldn’t allow that. Not when she had inadvertently given so much of her feelings away, so quickly already. Hadn’t she learned her lesson when she had gotten involved so quickly with Ty? Hadn’t the years of marital misery taught her anything about the dangers of investing her heart in what was, at best, a short-lived passion?
Yes, Thad was by far the best kisser she had ever met. And was probably the best lover, as well, although she promised herself she would never find that out. But she couldn’t—wouldn’t—let herself sink back into the cycle of recklessness and regret that had so characterized her early life. She was an adult now, a mother of a twelve-year-old boy. She had a duty to herself and to Chris to behave responsibly. And responsible mothers did not indulge in exciting, passionate love affairs that burned white-hot, for an exhilarating time, and then faded, leaving the ex-lovers feeling drained and disillusioned, emptier than before.
But not about to get into all that with Thad, she only said, “I thought we agreed that my son is going to be working for you, picking up towels in the locker room or something.” She just hadn’t told Chris yet.
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