“No, that’s bullshit.”
“Do you think you can change people’s opinions?” He was very interested to see what she had to say. Maybe she had a different perspective. Because for the most part, he believed people would do and say what they wanted, even though sometimes they would put on a politically correct façade.
“Some people, no, you’re never going to change their opinions. It doesn’t mean you have to accept it. If they’re bold enough to stare or make snide little comments under their breath, then they need to be bold enough to say it to my face. If I see someone doing that crap, I’m going to call them on it and put it back in their face every time. Life is too short to be fake, you know. Do you feel me?” She finished speaking as the waiter came back to the table. After taking their order, he left once more. “Enough about me and my issues with rude folks—”
“I don’t think they’re issues at all,” he interrupted her. In fact, he found it to be intriguing.
“Well, thank you.” She took a sip of her water then glanced down at her watch.
“Do you have another client soon?”
“In an hour.”
“Oh.” That was a disappointment.
“What about you? What do you do, by the way?”
“I’m a broker.”
“Nice.” She immediately changed the subject, as most people usually did. Not too many people knew what brokers did, at least not enough to carry on a conversation about it. “So what’s the deal with you and Cami?”
Wow. No one ever came right out and asked him like that. Most people hemmed and hawed while trying to think of the politically correct way to inquire about his family.
“Was that rude? Sorry. Normally I’m not that crass. I think I’m off today. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“No,” he rushed to reassure her, “it just threw me for a minute. Most people don’t ask straight-out.”
“Yeah. Those people are fake.”
“And you’re not?”
“No.” She shrugged her shoulders and smiled. “What you see is what you get. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
“It’s a good thing,” he assured her.
The waiter came back with their salads, making a show of grinding the pepper. Jonah watched as she practically snatched her bowl from the man before he could begin to season her food.
“So, do you hate the peppermill for some reason?”
“I hate that kind of pepper. It makes me sneeze.” She laughed wryly. “You probably think I’m some sort of crazy, rude freak. You haven’t seen me at my best, you know.” She drizzled on the dressing and then speared the lettuce as she prepared to take a bite.
“Really? Then I guess I need to see you again.” He wasn’t one to let a perfect opportunity slip through his grasp.
She chewed her food and then swallowed. “Wow, you don’t waste any time, do you?”
“Not when I see something I want.” Her eyes widened and he smiled. Good, let her think about that for a minute.
“Something you want. Weren’t we the Montagues and the Capulets this morning?”
“I’m not one to hold a grudge.” Especially once he realized he would rather hold her instead.
“That makes one of us.”
“Come on.” He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “I thought we were going to forgive and forget.”
Tisha glanced down at his hand then back at him with a bemused expression on her lovely face. “I don’t recall saying all that.”
“You thought it though,” he teased.
“Did I now?” She smiled. “You’re something, all right. I bet Cami has a hard time keeping you in line.”
“That makes her try all the harder, I assure you.”
“Poor kid.” She shook her head in mock sympathy.
“If you feel that badly for her, maybe you should pitch in.”
“In your dreams, buddy.”
She was right about that.
Chapter Three
Standing upright, Tisha stretched her aching muscles and wondered for the third time in the last hour why she didn’t break down and hire someone to mow her lawn. There was nothing she hated more than sweating. And sweating under the hot, blazing California sun while pushing a stubborn machine across her front lawn was ten times worse.
Agitated, she pulled up the hem of her shirt and wiped it across her damp brow. As she rubbed, she made the mistake of taking in a deep breath, inhaling her pungent funk. “Eww.” Tisha dropped the shirt and wrinkled her nose in disgust. She was rank.
Releasing the lever, she shut off the mower and took a step back to assess her work. Big mistake number two. Despite working like a dog, she’d only managed to mow half her front yard. Half. She still had to finish the front, as well as the entire back yard yet to do. Once again it wasn’t paying to be cheap.
With a grumble, she stomped over to her open garage and grabbed her water bottle off the trunk of her car. With a twist of her wrist, she removed the top and took a swig of the cold beverage. At the rate she was going, she wasn’t ever going to be done. The sad part was, if she was honest with herself, Tisha knew mowing the lawn wasn’t a big freaking deal. She just didn’t enjoy doing it.
She was a girl. A girlie girl at that, and mowing the lawn was a boy’s job. As archaic as it was, Tisha really believed that. She didn’t at first. Oh no. Owning her own home was such a momentous thing to her and was the proof once and for all she could do anything she wanted. She’d swallowed the “‘I am woman hear me roar”‘ independence bullshit when she bought the lawnmower. That mantra died out the second she started pushing the damn thing across her grass.
Fuck independence. She was lazy and sweating out her flat iron.
With a self-pitying groan, she recapped her bottle and headed back out into the yard. As she neared her gas-powered nemesis, Cami stopped her bike on the sidewalk in front of Tisha.
Tisha couldn’t help but smile at the spirited sprite. She looked as all kids should. Young. Not like one of those little girls pretending to be twenty-five years old, with pounds of makeup taking away from their natural beauty.
Dressed in jean shorts and a vintage T-shirt, Cami looked every inch a child. It was very refreshing. “Hey, kid.”
Cami rolled her eyes as she climbed from her bike and propped it up with the kickstand before walking over to Tisha. “It’s not kid. It’s Cami.”
“That’s right,” Tisha corrected herself. “I forgot you’re practically a young adult. Soon you’ll be old enough to drive then vote then move out.”
“I’m never moving out,” she stated emphatically.
That was unusual. Most kids she knew couldn’t wait to move out. “No?”
“Nah, Uncle J would perish without me.”
“Perish.” Who was this kid?
“Yeah, it means to die. It’s the word of the day on his calendar.”
Cami sounded so grown up, Tisha was hard-pressed not to laugh. “Probably.” Tisha glanced over her shoulder at the lawn mower once more and frowned. “You know what, Cami, I think you’re onto something. Don’t move out. Life only goes downhill from there. You have to pay your own bills, kill your own bugs, catch your own mice and mow your own lawn. Being an adult isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be.” Especially a single adult.
“You don’t like mowing your lawn.”
“I abhor it.” She turned back to Cami and winked. “Look that one up on your word of the day calendar.”
“It means hate, right?”
“Hate with a purple passion.”
“Wow.”
“Oh yeah.” Tisha nodded in agreement.
“If you hate it so much, why don’t you hire someone to do it for you?”
Tisha shot her an aggravated look. “Because I’m a moron.”
“At least you know. Uncle J says some people go their entire lives not knowing how dumb they are.”
“Hey!” It was one thing for her to call herself a moron and something entirely different for the pint-sized know-it-all to do it.
“Just kidding.” Cami smiled brightly. “I’m going to go check in with Uncle J. He goes postal if he doesn’t know where I am every second of the day.”
“I remember.”
“Yeah, I guess you do.” Cami climbed back on her bike. “I’ll see you later.”
“Not if I die in the next few minutes.” Tisha watched as Cami looked both ways before biking across the street to her house. Once she made it to the other side safely, Tisha went back to work on her lawn. Five minutes into the job, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Startled, she released the lever and spun around. To her utter surprise, Jonah was standing before her with a grinning Cami at his side.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Tisha glanced from him to his niece then back again. “Wait a minute. If you’re coming over here to read me the riot act because she was late checking in or something then you can stop right—”
“No.” He smiled. “That’s not why I came.”
Deflated by his smile and words she asked, “Oh, what’s up?”
“A little bird,” Jonan glanced down at Cami and winked, “told me you were committing ritual suicide. Slowly.”
“It hasn’t taken me that long.” She only had a third left to do now, of the front yard that was.
“Really? Huh.” Jonah surveyed the lawn before turning his gaze back to her. “Then I guess you’re probably not interested in my proposal.”
“Proposal?” Oh hell yes she was interested, especially if it had something to do with him.
“Yeah. I was about to fix lunch and I was wondering if you might want to switch jobs.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll finish your yard and you can fix lunch for the three of us. I have all the makings over at my house for hot dogs and fries. All you have to do is cook it.”
“Really? And you’d do my lawn? Front and back?” Was he for real?
“Yep.”
“Why?” Wait! Why the hell was she questioning fate? “Scratch that. Here you go. I’m going to run up real quick and hop in the shower. Then I’ll head over to your place.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
“Um, what about me?” Cami asked.
“What about you?” Tisha wasn’t sure what the girl was asking. She was too interested in getting into the shower to think coherently right now.
“Who is going to watch me while Uncle J is mowing and you’re in the shower?”
The two adults looked at each other and both began laughing at the same time. Leave it to the child to point out their shortcomings.
Jonah stopped laughing long enough to come up with a plan, however. “You will sit on Tisha’s step and watch me mow until the front yard is completed. Hopefully by that time she’ll be done with her shower.”
“Yes.” Tisha took over the explanation. “And then you and I will go to your house to prepare lunch.”
“Okay.” Cami walked up the sidewalk and settled herself on the steps. “Well, let’s get cracking.”
Tisha fought off the laughter threatening to bubble forth and glanced over at Jonah to find he was in a similar battle. She rolled her eyes at the thirty-year-old masquerading as a child as she hurried into the house.
* * * * *
After cutting Tisha’s lawn, Jonah quickly ran the mower over his own. He figured he might as well get it out of the way now and save himself the trouble later. Besides, maybe if he took longer outside, they would be more likely not to need his help inside.
It wasn’t as if he loved cutting grass. Not even remotely, but he liked it a hell of lot more than he enjoyed cooking. Cami and he lived on takeout and simple dishes that took little time to prepare and held less of a risk of giving them food poisoning. Cami, bless her little heart, didn’t complain one bit about it. Of course if he was allowed to eat French fries every other night as a kid he probably wouldn’t bitch either.
If he would have given this more thought, he’d have arranged for Tisha to cook a real meal instead of the dogs and fries he had taken out. Maybe they could work something out for next time.
Once Jonah was done with his yard, he wheeled the mower back over to Tisha’s house and parked it in her garage. He jogged back to his house, feeling the need for a quick shower before he joined the girls. Mowing the lawn had worked up quite an appetite and all he could think about was eating. That was until he walked into his house and heard Cami’s laughter ringing out from the kitchen. Just listening to the lighthearted sound made him smile.
Bypassing the hallway that led toward the bedrooms and bathrooms, Jonah made his way into the kitchen, stopping in the doorway to stare at the sight that met his eyes. Tisha and Cami were standing at the granite island, chopping vegetables and laughing as if they were old friends.
“What’s so funny?”
The second he spoke, they looked over at him and laughed even harder. “What?” Jonah glanced down at himself, making sure he didn’t have anything out of whack. “What did I miss?”
“Cooking 101 apparently,” Tisha teased.
Feigning hurt, Jonah mockingly frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not that bad. Cami, back me up.”
“He’s not that bad.” Jonah sent a triumphant smile toward Tisha that instantly melted away at Cami’s next words. “But it’s still bad.”
Okay, so the brat hadn’t complained to him but apparently she didn’t have a problem complaining to other people. “Traitor.” He walked all the way into the room and stopped on the other side of the island to snag a piece of tomato. The second his teeth sank into the crimson treat he moaned in appreciation. Before he was even finished chewing all of it, he reached for a backup piece. “What’s all of this?”
“These are vegetables,” Tisha said slowly. “Veg-et-ables.”
“Thanks, smartass. I meant, where did they come from?”
“Not your refrigerator,” she teased.
The urge to pull Tisha over his lap and give her the spanking of a lifetime rose inside him. “Obviously.”
“Tisha grabbed them from her house when I told her we didn’t have salad stuff.”
“Actually,” Tisha picked up a damp cucumber and placed it on the cutting board. “I believe her exact words were. Salad? You mean lettuce and ranch.”
“She’s had salads before,” he protested. Maybe not at the house, but when they went out to restaurants he always ordered the house salad for her.
Unfortunately for him, Tisha was quick on her feet. “The question is, has she had them here?”
“Well, she hasn’t lived in this house for too long.” He didn’t want to seem as if he was a bad guardian for Cami.
“He’s right. We’ve only been here a couple of months. You can’t have expected me to eat any salads in that short of time.”
Tisha pressed her lips together, but he noticed she couldn’t quite suppress her smile. “Hmm, I see. Well then, isn’t it lucky I happened to have the salad fixings to remedy that sadly lacking situation?”
“Yeah, it’s about time we started having more salads.” He was sure the grocery stores sold those in bags. Of course this meant he’d have to remember to actually buy it once in a while, and maybe some of the stuff to go with it.
There really should be a store for single dads where they sold things boxed and ready to go so all he had to do was ask for a week’s worth of groceries and the box would be handed over to him, with clear-cut directions on how to cook it. Jonah didn’t think he was asking for too much. “We’re still having the dogs though, right?” He could eat salad, but he had to have something to go with it. He was a man. Not a rabbit.
“Yes.” Tisha glanced at the clock behind him on the wall. “I should probably put those on. I started the fries already, so they should be done by the time the dogs are.”
Fries in the oven first. Interesting. “Good plan.”
“Eww,” Cami crinkled her nose and gave him an odd look.
“What?”
“You stink.”
“Gee, you think so?” He lifted his arm and sniffed. “You know what, I think I do.”
Cami giggled and then the little brat had the gall to add, “And you’re all dirty and sweaty too.”
“Wow, I didn’t notice. Are you sure?” He stepped closer, pretending he was going to touch her and she screamed and stepped back.
“Yuck. You need a shower.”
“Nah…I think I smell good.”
“Your nose must be broken.”
Jonah brought his finger to his nose and wiggled it. “Nope, feels fine to me.”
“Tisha, tell him.”
“I don’t know.” Tisha tilted her head to the side and studied him. “I don’t think he stinks.”
“You don’t?” Cami’s surprised voice matched Johan’s thoughts.
“No. He smells…manly. It’s kind of nice.”
“What’s manly?”
“Manly means like a man, or having qualities a man would and should have.”
“You think my uncle has qualities men should have?”
Jonah wanted to hear the answer to this himself.
“Most definitely.” Tisha looked up at him as she answered. Her response surprised and delighted him.
“See.” Cami turned to face him. “She doesn’t think you’re a jerk.”