Page 21 of Guarding My Love

7

MAKING IT WORK

Foster couldn’t believe he might actually be doing something remotely close to flirting until Charlotte pointed out he was acting differently.

He wasn’t even sure why he was other than he was touched that she’d bought him three-dollar painting supplies when most women he dated expected him to pay for three hundred-dollar meals nightly.

And the cookies.

Good lord, if he ate another he was going to be ill, but they were just too damn good.

“Sometimes we have to make changes that are hard,” he said.

He knew that. He’d done it enough in his life.

He got things under control and knew the signs if they reappeared.

His family gave him the space he needed. Most times.

“Tell me about it,” she said. “Like home ownership in a small town when you’ve never known anything like it.”

“You’re making it work,” he said.

“It feels like barely, but I’m glad to have a neighbor bail me out now and again when I stumble.”

He wasn’t sure where she was going with this.

He was pretty sure she didn’t know who he was and it was just a comment on the few times he’d helped her.

He’d give her the benefit of the doubt.

“At least your hair is dry and you’re dressed today.”

“Talk about embarrassing,” she said.

She reached for the plate of cookies when he handed them back because he wanted to squat down and pet Marco again. Was Laken right and puppies could lighten his mood?

The mutt jumped up and he caught him and then lifted him to scratch him under the chin.

“What kind of dog is he?”

“No clue,” she said. “A little bit of shepherd and beagle, I think. They weren’t sure. I got him at the shelter. Which is funny because all my friends used to say I’d be the one carrying a tiny dog in a purse.”

“You don’t look that to me,” he said.

She was wearing gray cotton shorts, a pair of those ugly black rubber slip-on shoes that were open in the back, and a blue T-shirt with pieces of dirt hanging off of it.

Her blonde hair was in a ponytail and she had sunglasses on top of her head. He found it nice that she lifted them as she got closer to talk.

There was nothing worse than talking to someone and not knowing if they were paying attention or not because you couldn’t see their eyes.

“You haven’t seen me at my best.”

“I think you learn more about people when they aren’t,” he said.

She tilted her head. “That might be my problem in life.”

He lifted his eyebrow and scratched Marco under the chin some more. “I doubt it,” he said. “You seem to be doing well enough on your own. Unless you’ve got some man that you date long distance, I assumed you’re doing it all and out to prove something to someone.”

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