Page 44 of Wild Card

“Mom, I’m going to work on the yard and change the oil in your car. Mallory has a few things to do while I work, but we will stay out of your way if you need to sleep or…”

“No, I’m headed out. My coworker needed to swap shifts, so I’m going to work this evening.” Penny smoothed down her light green scrubs then tugged the end of her ponytail around her shoulder. She seemed empty, and the way she kept looking out the back window…it was sad. I could see she was still riding that grief wave pretty hard. I wondered how recently her husband had passed.

“I’ll have Kyle do your oil some other time then. Have a good day at work.” He went to hug her, but her eyes moved back to me, almost urgently.

“Will you be here when I get back?”

Was she asking me or him?

“Uh…” Decker looked back at me, then his mom. “No, Mom—we have to get back.”

His mother swallowed and brought a hand to her throat before saying, “There’s going to be a storm, Decker…”

I watched the family in front of me. Decker looked over to his younger brother, who was in the kitchen eating an Otter Pop, but at the mention of a storm, he dropped the frozen treat and stared helplessly at his big brother.

“We’ll be fine. We won’t stay long…just two hours or so,” Decker said, shoving his hand into his pocket.

I felt awkward, like they’d be saying out loud what each of them seemed to be saying with their eyes if I weren’t in the room.

“Decker, it’s already getting late…please.”

“Yeah, D, don’t be an idiot,” Kyle added, emphasizing their mother’s plea.

Decker looked at me. That storm they were talking about was currently in his eyes as he glared, like I should voice an objection…but the concern on his family members’ faces—it was too much.

“I can tuck away and sleep anywhere. I don’t have another shift at the bookstore until tomorrow night, and my laptop is here, so I can do my homework.” I blinked, watching them as I gave my pathetic offer.

“You work at a bookstore?” Kyle asked from the kitchen, a new color of popsicle in his hand.

“I do. It’s a little café too, really good cinnamon rolls.”

Decker’s gaze was deadly as he stared down at me.

“Huh, isn’t that interesting, D?” Kyle said playfully from his perch in the kitchen.

“I don’t sleep in the house,” Decker said grimly, making me do a double take.

Why didn’t he sleep in his house?

“We’ll be fine,” he insisted. “The sooner I get this done, the sooner we can leave.”

Decker turned and headed out the French doors without another word. I decided it was as good a time as any to go grab my laptop from the truck.

* * *

I watchedfrom my place on the patio as Decker mowed the grass. His shirt was gone, showing off his glorious physique. He must have done this mowing thing a lot because his chest was sun-kissed and perfect; his black tattoos wrapped around his biceps and went up to his shoulders, but nothing touched his back, his forearms or chest. Those dark jeans molded to his strong thighs as he walked behind the mower until he’d covered every inch of grass in the backyard. When he started pulling weeds and I realized I was outright drooling over the way his muscles moved and shifted, I knew I was a goner. There was attraction, then there was drooling. It was totally unacceptable.

Every thirty minutes or so, he’d stop for water. During those breaks, I tried to strike up conversation, but he didn’t seem like he was in the mood to talk. I assumed it was because he was in such a hurry. Only about an hour and a half had passed when the sky started to turn. It was subtle with a little darkening off in the distance, but then thick clouds were directly above us.

At that point I decided I should probably help him, especially as I caught sight of his head tipping back and that granite jaw looking like he was chewing rocks.Hot damn.

I walked over to a patch of weeds off to the side and, bending over, started pulling with my bare hands. The weed put up a fight as I struggled with it, tugging and straining.

“You little bastard. Come the fuck out of the ground!” I tugged again, only to strip the thing of all its little leaves. “Ow.”

“What are you doing?” Decker’s gravelly voice asked from above me.

“I’m helping.” My hands wrapped around another bunch of weeds as I pulled with new vigor. I managed to strip the tops, but nothing pulled up from the root. My hands burned like I’d pushed a thousand tiny slivers into them.

---