Guilt hit him for offering since she looked so defeated. She really did not like him, enjoy his presence, or want to be positioned to need his help. His fault. However, he wasn’t that hurtful person anymore. Plus, visiting her old neighborhood would be tough, and he didn’t want her facing it alone. “Look, I have no agenda other than common courtesy.”
“For real?”
“Yep. Just being neighborly.”
“You won’t bring up the past?”
“Cross my heart.” He made the gesture over his chest.
Her gaze tracked his finger motion. Colin was pleased it lit on his hard-earned muscles. He wanted to smile.
The attraction was mutual, even if she didn’t want it, like it, or like him one iota. Nothing to worry about, though. He refused to ponder any romantic relationship.
Her face still reflected skepticism over his offer to drive her.
He didn’t have all day to convince her. She was up against scary deadlines and depending on him to meet them. He stood and put on his coat, then lifted hers off the back of a chair and settled it on her shoulders as she stood, like he did for his mom, aunts, and grandmas all the time.
The air cradling them supercharged. He wasn’t sure whether from chemistry that came from hands atop her shoulders or from the impressive sparks of anger arcing out her eyes. Wow. High voltage. He could weld steel with those. Wanting to respect her need for space, he stepped away and resisted chivalrous urges to finish helping her on with her coat.
One of her collar lapels curled up and one angled down, which sent his OCD into overdrive, though. His fingers itched to fix it.
On the way to the hospital, she surprisingly broke the awkward silence by shifting toward him. “You may remember Del. She was a high school teacher. Went by ‘Miss D.’ ”
Colin’s ears bled. “Oh man. She’s liable to stroke when she sees me.”
“Why? Oh wait. I recall her chasing you from her classroom with a metal spoon.”
“It was a wooden spoon, actually. I baked the big metal one into her birthday cake for my final exam. Which I deservedly failed.” He cringed. Then laughed.
“She’s full of grace now. Put it this way: God got her heart but not her mouth yet.”
Colin smiled. “I can imagine. I’d like to see her again. She helped me even though I didn’t deserve it. Even with her temper and sharp tongue, she had a love for all kids.”
“She’s the reason I went to chef school after design school to diversify my business. She always said I could. I eventually believed her over all the negative voices, including mine, telling me I couldn’t.”
Meadow’s transparent admission surprised Colin. Stopped at a red light now, he studied her lovely profile as she faced forward. His gaze dropped to that rogue lapel. It sat even more askew than before. He and his OCD couldn’t stand it another second.
He reached over and smoothed it down, hoping to bypass notice.
Her atomic glare told him she noticed.
He pointed. “Your collar was crooked.”
Her nuclear expression didn’t change. Which meant the subject needed to.
His mind raced for something neutralizing to say. He’d overstepped.
To be honest, he’d hoped to impart through his hands the message that he admired her dignity and resilience. No doubt she felt the blossoming care and unexpected wonder surge through the innocent contact, same as him. He guessed that, like him, she didn’t know what to do with it.
The last few days of being around one another when she’d insisted on tromping up the ladder to help him with her roof had been filled with much of the same. Chemistry and their dancing around it. Trying to pretend it didn’t exist was hardly working for Colin.
A blaring series of honks told him the light had turned green. Probably awhile ago. Thankfully the cacophony of horns broke the awkward moment.
Paying better attention to traffic, Colin navigated through the intersection. “Even though I gave Miss D trouble, I admired her. She was one of those teachers who tirelessly reached into the lives of troubled kids.”
Meadow grew quiet. “I should know.”
“As should I. My life wasn’t perfect either, Meadow. There’s a lot you don’t know.”
As Colin spoke the words, he added to his Meadow Agenda: Get her to open up by being transparent myself.
What about him didn’t she know?
Bitter defiance was easier to contend with than this cozy camaraderie metastasizing in the truck with each mile, but his ready presence and help this week had gotten to her.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I made poor choices to protect the facade that my home life was perfect. I was afraid if people saw my agony over my parents’ inattention, I’d be made fun of. I know you were, and I’m sorry about that. I guess I thought if I befriended or defended you, I’d be made fun of too. That rationale was wrong.”