“Your timing is impeccable, as always Lex,” I mumble as I cross my arms and shake my head.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” she groans in defense as she uses her body to clumsily shut her car door.
“Yeah,” I snort. “And they just left.”
She curls her lip in annoyance as she looks at my street. “Damn,” she murmurs. “I’m sorry.” She shrugs, then, “Do you have any coffee?”
Connor chuckles and pats my shoulder, I’m guessing his way of sympathizing with me even though he finds Lexi humorous. I ignore her question and turn to him with an exhausted grin.
“You saved my life this weekend,” I admit. And he did. I’m not sure I could’ve survived two days of Tuffman kids without him. It was yet again another time that he has shown a part of himself I didn’t think was in him. And looking up at him now, I can feel the way my view of him has changed in the short time he’s been home. There were stereotypes and preconceived notions that skewed my perception of him even before I met him. But slowly and in the most profound way, Connor has proven something I should have known all along—you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.
“I think I need a nap,” he laughs as he runs a rough hand down his face.
“Me too,” I groan as I reach my hands up to the sky and stretch. “Can I cook you a thank you dinner tonight?”
His smile fades a little, his hand moving to the back of his neck for a rub. “Rain check for tomorrow night? I kind of have something going on.”
“Oh,” I say a little surprised. And a part of me wants to ask if he has a date, but I tamp that down and move on because it isn’t any of my business. “How about Tuesday? I have plans tomorrow night.” I won’t push details on him either.
“Would this be date two with the painter?” Lexi interrupts . . . of course she does. “Maybe he’ll do some kind of Titanic shit where he draws a photo of you in the nude.”
My cheeks heat not only at the thought of that but that she’s saying it in front of Connor. “Pretty sure that isn’t going to happen,” I mumble, awkwardly, as I push some of my hair behind my ear.
“Maybe he’ll finger paint your bare body,” Lexi continues, goading me. She knows she’s humiliating me right now, and she loves every second of it.
“Okay, Lex,” I snap as I hold my hand up. “Let’s get you that coffee.” Looking back to Connor, the easy expression and humor filled eyes seem to have vanished. Now his brow is slightly furrowed, and his mouth is flat. Lexi has obviously made him feel uncomfortable.
Rolling my eyes, I say, “Sorry. Tuesday night? That works for me if it works for you.”
“Yeah, Tuesday is good,” he adds quickly.
“Join us for coffee?” I ask as Lexi tromps up the stairs of my back porch.
“Nah . . . gotta get to work. But thanks.”
“Okay,” I half smile and give a little awkward wave. “Have a good day, neighbor.”
With a chuckle, he waves back. “You too.”
When I make it inside, Lexi is sitting at the table, mug in hand, sunglasses still covering her bloodshot eyes. “I have bad news,” she begins as I dump the cold dregs of my morning coffee in the sink and pour myself a fresh cup.
“Yay,” I mumble. I may not know what the bad news is, but I do know, without a doubt, it has to do with our mother.
“Gladys knows about Vick,” Lexi confesses before sipping her coffee. My shoulders slump with this news. I’d rather have had a chance to get to know Vick without my mother interfering with mindless gossip and boasting me as the sweetest widow this side of the Mississippi.
“That is unfortunate news,” I sigh in defeat, taking a seat next to her.
“Mr. Grenier was at the bar the other night and saw you two together. Called mom and gave her the 411.”
“And . . .” I question. Surely Gladys has given Lexi her in-depth opinion of Vick, a man she barely knows.