Frenemies

I glanced back toward the house to make sure Maya wasn’t out here.

Jen covered her mouth. “Do you have your daughter? Sorry.”

“She’s upstairs finding a home for the bed. It’s fine.” I shrugged a shoulder. “I’ve got her for a few extra days this week while her mom is away.”

“Being a good dad. Such an attractive quality. Why are you single?”

“Because I work too much and parent when I’m not working?”

“I’m going to set you up with someone.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re already trying to do that with your granddaughter.” I smiled.

She parted her lips and pressed a hand to her chest. “Me? Set you up? Whyever would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” I said wryly. “Unless the rubber spider jumped into the mailbox of its own accord, of course.”

“Gosh darn it!” She punched the air. “You’re smart, too. You’re the perfect candidate for my future great-grandchildren.”

“And I think we’re done with this conversation.” I choked back a laugh and moved to pick up the crate.

“Wait, wait, wait.” She flapped her hands at me. “When are you getting the frou-frou puppy tomorrow?”

“The afternoon. Why?”

“My grass desperately needs a cut, and the neighborhood boy who usually helps me is going to some baseball tournament. Inconvenient, really.” She sniffed, pushing her hair behind her ear. “Anyhoo. I’ll pay you.”

“I don’t think I can take your money, Jen.”

“Fine. Take Immy on a date.”

“I have Maya. I can’t just leave a three-year-old to her own devices to mow your lawn, even if you are willing to pay me.”

There was no way in hell I was agreeing to her second option.

“I’ll watch her. It’ll only take you twenty minutes.”

I raised my eyebrows. “You’ll watch my daughter? Why?”

“Because I’m a nice person.”

I raised them even further.

“Fine. My grass needs cutting. It seems like a fair trade. Besides, I can’t possibly corrupt a child as young as three in twenty minutes. I need at least thirty for that.”

I had no idea if she was joking about that, but I wasn’t sure I was willing to bet on it.

Then again, I didn’t want to be a bad neighbor. She was old, and if Immy was working and the usual kid was away, I knew I’d feel bad if I didn’t.

“I’ll even watch her after so you can work. I bet she won’t leave you alone at all tomorrow until you’ve picked up your puppy,” Jen continued. “I’m good with kids. We’ll bake cookies. I’ll teach her how to get them right.”

Maya did like baking…

“Who make cookies?”

Of course this was when she finally joined the conversation.

“Mrs. Anderson wants me to cut her grass for her tomorrow, and she said she’d do some baking with you after so I can work,” I explained. “She’s our new neighbor.”

“She bake? Wif me?” Maya looked over at her. “I liked her dress.”

Jen grinned. “I’ll bake with ya, sugar! What kinda cookies do you like?”

Maya bit her lip and hid behind me. “Chocot,” she whispered.

“She can’t hear you, baby.” I chuckled.

“Chocot,” she repeated a little louder.

“Ooh, my favorite! You come over at ten-thirty, and we’ll make a hundred cookies!”

Her eyes widened.

Oh, sweet Jesus.

“Yes?” Jen asked, smugness in her eyes.

The old woman had outfoxed me. God damn it.

“We’ll see you at ten-thirty.” I sighed, passing Maya a bag full of dog toys. “Tell Mrs. Anderson you’ll see her tomorrow.”

“See ya ‘morrow!” Maya grinned and took the bag, then ran back into the house.

“I know what you’re up to,” I said, pointing at Jen.

“Me?” She gave me her best innocent look, which was guilty as hell for most people. “I’m not up to anything, dear.”

I watched her disappear into the house with a shake of my head.

What was I getting myself into?

CHAPTER SEVEN – IMMY

Little Miss Meddler

There was a three-year-old in my kitchen baking cookies and a shirtless hot man in my backyard mowing the lawn.

I’d imagined this fantasy a thousand times, but I’d never really pictured the child not being mine and the shirtless hot man being a guy I’d left behind years ago.

I wasn’t quite sure how this scenario had come about, but it wasn’t ideal. It was almost eleven, and I’d been awake less than an hour. Both the man and the child had turned up at some point when I was in the shower and not once had Grandma thought to warn me.

Well, she probably had, but had ultimately decided against it.

That was her style, after all.

Plus, I was pretty sure she’d asked Mason to cut the grass to bug me. She knew Hannah was running the store today because she needed more hours. I could have easily cut the grass—it was actually one chore I didn’t really mind—but no, she had to go one step to the right to the new neighbor, didn’t she?

I toweled off my hair, and after a lick of mascara on my eyelashes, I made my way downstairs, where the smell of freshly baked cookies made my stomach rumble.