Page 2 of To Believe In You
Matt ignored him as he clapped the teen on the shoulder. “Cheerleading.”
“What? No.” The kid drew the syllable out with equal parts disbelief and horror.
Matt shrugged a shoulder that, as she drew near, appeared muscular.
Thatwas different.
He had also rid himself of his sallow complexion and learned how to wash his hair since she’d last seen him, a month or two before his dismissal from Awestruck.
Maybe God really had done a transforming work in his life.
Matt tossed the kid a grin. “Going out for cheer is a good way to meet girls.”
Or maybe not.
Gravel dust lightened the green of Matt’s company T-shirt. Beneath his knee-length shorts, blood darkened a three-inch-wide section of his shin. He must’ve skinned it in his descent.
“You are a walking liability nightmare.” A widow’s peak accented the other man’s tall forehead. He’d snuggly tucked his Visser Landscaping shirt into a pair of dressy khakis. Worked mostly in the office, probably.
“Relax, Pete. I’m fine.” As the kid laughed some more, Matt’s attention shifted to her.
Blue eyes?
Huh. She’d remembered them as brown.
Mischief lingered in his smile. “Welcome to Visser Landscaping, where we specialize in flips, flowers, and …” His eyes narrowed in concentration, then his face lit. “Flandscaping.”
The teen snickered.
“Sorry about him.” Pete edged his shoulder in front of Matt’s and planted his leather boat shoes as if staking a claim. “How can I help you?”
Matt rolled his eyes and stepped back to let Pete have his way.
“Actually, I’m here to talk to him.” She motioned to Matt, who paused his retreat.
Pete didn’t budge. “Who are you?”
She considered returning the question, because this guy obviously thought he was somebody. Visser Landscaping was a family-owned business. Did Matt have an older brother?
“He’s working.” Pete lifted his chin. “Unless this is about a job, I’m going to have to ask you to find him later on someone else’s dime.”
As if she were some teenage delinquent he had to run off the property.
Lina met his gaze with a level look. “Itisabout a job.”
Although probably not of the variety Pete had in mind.
Pete cut a glance at Matt, then stalked off toward the greenhouse.
Meanwhile, the blood running down Matt’s leg soaked into the barely visible upper edge of his white sock. The royal blue lip of his sneakers would be next. A large stone must’ve cut into his shin to cause such a thick trickle.
As Pete’s footsteps faded into the distance, the teen chuckled.
Matt focused again on Lina. “So. What’d you need?”
“You’re bleeding.” She pointed.
He tipped his leg. “Sure enough.”
