“Sammy counted to ten today, including the five,” Mary said. She was sitting next to me in the swing seat and gave a push to get it going.
“That’s awesome,” I said through a yawn. It was four in the afternoon, and I’d been home for over an hour, but I was still exhausted.
“He asked for you as soon as he did it. He wanted to show you.”
I smiled, looking down at the ground.
“You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need, Chloe. You know that, right? No one’s going to kick you out.”
“I appreciate that, but I’m still leaving after graduation.”
“Oh okay. I just thought maybe you might have changed your mind.”
“What would make you think that?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the tall, dark, and handsome boy pulling up to the curb—” She nudged me with her elbow.
My head whipped up, and I spotted Blake’s car. He was just stepping out.
Mary continued, “—stepping out of his car with . . . what’s that? Flowers? Ooh, I hope they’re for me . . . and a bottle of wine, maybe? Now I really hope that’s for me. And his eyes look up—jeez, his eyes. And then he sees us. Oh, that smile . . .”
“Okay, Mary.” I stood up. “Thanks, but I don’t need your commentary.”
Her laughter faded as I walked down the path, meeting Blake halfway. “What are you doing here?” It came out harsh, just how I intended.
“Wow.” His eyebrows rose. “Someone’s pissy when they’re tired.”
I let my shoulders relax but not my guard. “Seriously, Blake. What are you doing?”
“You invited me for dinner,” he replied slowly, as if I were crazy.
“That was before all that shit with Hannah! You can’t—”
He pushed past, ignoring me. “You must be Mary?” I heard him say. I turned to them. He offered her the flowers. “These are for you.”
Mary thanked him before pulling him in for a hug. She smiled huge, giving me a thumbs-up behind his back.
Shit.
He was going to charm his way in. Mary was still gushing when the front screen door slammed open against the planter box next to it.
“Who the hell is this kid with his arms around my wife?” Dean yelled, a wide smile on his face.
Blake and Mary pulled apart, finally.
I stepped forward. “Dean, this is—”
“Blake Hunter!” He couldn’t contain his excitement. “Well, well.” His gaze moved to me. “Ain’t that something?” Then to Blake, “Come on in, son! Welcome to our home.”