Dirty Curve
His blue eyes shine in the sun, and he slips his hat off his head, tossing it in the seat beside him. “See you tomorrow.”
“Two o’clock sharp.”
He grins, shifts into drive, and says, “I’ll be here” and then he takes off.
It’s after he’s gone and I’m digging my keys from my bag that I realize what he said.
Here.
Tomorrow at two o’clock sharp, Tobias Cruz will be here.
My stomach flips and I have a feeling it’s not only nerves.
Not good.
CHAPTER 16
Meyer
Bianca called at seven this morning to tell me she woke up sick and didn’t want to risk passing it on to Bailey. She said she’d be here if I needed her, but it was up to me.
The last thing I want is for Bailey to get sick again, or for Bianca to have to care for her when she feels like death, as she put it, so it was a no-brainer.
I told her not to worry, that I’d be fine, and then I remembered Tobias.
Now it’s one thirty-five and I’m anxious.
He’ll be here in twenty-ish minutes and I’m considering waking Bailey up, putting her in the stroller and walking who knows where. Park, maybe?
Or we could go to the farmer’s market downtown? It’s gorgeous out so that could be relaxing.
My phone goes off and I’m half hoping it’s Tobias canceling.
It is Tobias, but he’s not canceling.
He’s here.
Crapola.
q
Tobias
Stepping out of the truck, I meet Meyer at her front door.
She’s uneasy, that’s obvious, and I kind of figured she would be. So, I drop my bag at my feet, and pull out the lawn blanket I stuffed inside. “It’s nice out, want to sit out here on the grass?”
She stares a long moment, and then her chin falls with a soft laugh. “There’s a small patio in the back, I think we’ll be more comfortable out there.”
“I think you’re right.” I grin.
She shuffles back, her lips twitching nervously as I slip by.
I know she’s waiting for me to look around and scope the place out, so I make it a point not to, and instead glance over my shoulder while pointing at the sliding glass door.
She nods, so I glide the thing open, wincing when it squeals. My eyes fly to hers.
“She’s not that light of a sleeper,” she teases, walking over to push it the rest of the way.
Grinning, I step out onto the patio.
The ground is cement and the wood enclosure is old, but it’s high so nobody can see over, which is good to know. She has two mismatched sofa chairs pushed against each other, and a round table in front of them, an old coffee cup sitting on top.
“Oh.” She squeezes her body by mine, quickly grabbing it and dusting off a couple stray leaves from the overhanging tree. “Sorry,” she mumbles, and when she looks up, she gasps.
It’s low and unintentional, but the good kind always are.
She’s close and she didn’t realize it, but she likes it, even if she hasn’t grasped that little fact yet.
She will.
“We can move the chairs. I push them together sometimes.”
She spins, nudging one back with her knee, but I reach past her, holding it still, and her eyes meet mine over her shoulder.
“Leave it. Might make it easier to work together.”
She stands frozen, only moving when a door is slammed somewhere close by and jolts her from what I hope was an X-rated thought of yours truly.
She clears her throat, stretching her body as straight as she’s able in an attempt to slip by without brushing against me, but she’s only half successful. Her chest’s too full to be hidden in any way, so it glides along mine with her escape.
I drop into one of the seats, pulling my laptop out and it’s not long before she’s falling in the chair beside me, her computer in hand.
She drags the table in the middle more and opens up my course lists. “You coming over worked out for me today,” she says, and we look to each other. “Bianca woke up sick, so I wouldn’t have been able to meet you. I would have had to cancel.”
My eyes narrow, and I lean forward on my elbows. “You almost did, didn’t you?”
She nods.
“Why?”
“If she wakes up from her nap while you’re here, your time will be cut short.”
“You’d make me leave?”
Her frown is instant, as if she’s confused by my question. “You’d want to stay?”
“My calendars clear, Tutor Girl. You’re all that’s on it today.”
At first, I think she might grow uneasy, put her professional cap back on, but she doesn’t.
She kicks off her slippers, folds her legs in the chair, and turns to her computer screen, but it only takes her a total of two minutes to realize all my work is already done.
She looks to me with a single brow raised and a side squashed smile.