Page 35 of Clean Sweep
In addition, I loved her kids. Aside from Blake, whom I met only vaguely, I knew her three older sons pretty well. I’d coached two of them, taught one of them in the classroom, and enjoyed them as people. As adults, they’d probably be even more intriguing.
To make the situation worse, my kid lovedher.
We lived in the same mountain world, knew the same people, and dating Leslie wouldn’t dramatically shift the status quo. Which meant that holding her at arm’s length wouldn’t be easy.
But I didn’t like her that far away, either.
These thoughts ran through my head while I navigated through the canyon and back into Pineville. The holidays had delayed my invoicing cycle, so yesterday I’d tucked two paper invoices for Leslie in between my seat and the gear shift, right where I couldn’t ignore them. They drew my gaze too often.
Normally, I dropped my clients an email with the invoice, but I was actively searching for an excuse to talk to her again. I’d already cleaned her house a second time, intentionally doing it while she was at work. Now? Now I was ready to face her.
Maybe not toaskher on a date yet, but I did walk to talk to her again. See if I had imagined all the chemistry, or if it really existed.
Getting paid for cleaning her house seemed to be the most likely way to get in the door. I’d drop Celeste off at school tomorrow morning, then swing by Leslie’s place. All before she went to work. A totally, completely normal excuse to see her.
And then?
Well, I’d deal with that when I got there.
WHENIARRIVEDat Leslie’s house the next morning, the place lay quiet.
A quick glance at my watch confirmed that it was only 8:15 in the morning. Would she already be at the Frolicking Moose? I had no idea what hours she kept, but didn’t peg her as an early-riser. Besides, from what Celeste said, Leslie didn’t work behind the counter unless she filled in for a lunch break or something.
Before I talked myself out of a clearly reckless course of action, I shoved open the truck door and started across the lawn. No sooner had I jogged up the three steps and reached for the door knob then the door burst open. I stopped.
Leslie screeched to a halt.
She held an empty coffee mug in one hand. Drops of water clung to it, as if she’d just rinsed it out. The lid was pinched between two fingers and she carried her car keys in her teeth. A purse, two bags full of something that looked like decorations, and other odds and ends filled her arms.
Looked like someone didn’t want to take two trips to the car.
“Oh!” she cried, eyes wide. The expression quickly dropped into a hesitant smile. A low drawl followed, “Ahhh hey.”
The words were mostly garbled coming out around her keys. She gingerly reached up with the pinky finger of the hand holding the coffee mug and pulled them out. Her hair lay around her shoulders in freshly washed and dried strands.
“Hey,” I said. “Looks like I caught you at a bad time. Can I help you carry something?”
Her left arm dropped to catch a bauble that threatened to fall. I reached out, snatching a hollow, plastic ornament. Her cheeks flared with color.
“Thanks,” she breathed. “Sorry, I’m just on my way to work. I bought some Christmas decorations to spruce up the tree there. Did you see it? It’s a bit thin.”
While she hurriedly explained the dizzying array ofstuffin her arms, I peeled several bags and containers out of her pile.
“Thanks.” She smiled. “I just hate making two trips, don’t you?”
I laughed and followed her to the car, parked in the driveway a few steps away. “I’ve been known to load up all the bags of groceries on both arms to avoid that very thing, yes.”
“Good. Because you’re a psycho if you don’t.”
The smell of something light and sweet trailed behind her. Vanilla bean, maybe? It conjured up images of cupcakes and frosting and somehow I already liked Leslie a lot more than I remembered.
I mean, I’d brought invoices to her house on a day when I wasn’t cleaning. In fact, I’d be cleaning again in two days and could have brought it then.
Who did that?
Someone desperate for answers, and that perfectly described me right now.
Once all the stuff had been unloaded into the back of her car, she faced me. Both hands were tucked into the pockets of a tan jacket that covered a darker shirt. The tones against her eyes and hair had a stunning effect.
