Chapter 4
Chapter Four
“Have a nice day, you two!” I yell after my kids as I drop them off at school. Olivia grumbles in response while Asher waves excitedly.
It’s going to be a good day today. I’m going to do some writing and hopefully have my deck sketched out.
This time, I’m looking put together with clean hair, a cute, flowery top, and skinny jeans as I sit down in my office chair. I don’t care what the kids say—skinny jeans will always be it for me.
Just as I get the hang of it, a doorbell rings.
“What are you doing here?” I ask my sister when she steps into my house with her baby perched on her hip, her ash-blonde hair bobbing behind her.
“Well, aren’t you happy to see me?” She purses her lips in mock offense.
I roll my eyes. “Of course, I’m happy to see you. But I didn’t have the pleasure of being aware of your arrival.”
“I just needed to get out of the house for a bit.” She shrugs. “Besides, we need to figure out your whole dating thing. What are you up to?”
“Writing, finally.”
Her lips tip up. “Great, I’ll keep you company.”
My sister is not only my best friend and my personal assistant, she’s also the person I bounce my ideas off of. She helps me brainstorm when I get stuck and offers ridiculous suggestions that could only work in romance. She might not be an author, but she lives and breathes romance.
With her by my side and Stella peacefully sleeping, I get about two thousand words in, which is more than I wrote in a very long time.
Stella fusses in Sandy’s arms, so I pick her up to give her some well-deserved cuddles. Just as I’m blowing bubbles on her tiny baby belly, the doorbell rings again.
“It must be the deck guy. I need to let him in.” I get up from my comfy pink chair with Stella in tow.
Sandy has already stolen my chair. “I’ll reread what we wrote today.” She’s probably my biggest fan.
Making my way to the front door, I leave Sandy to read. I open the door to find Logan on the other side. “Thank you for coming so soon.”
His eyes land on the newborn baby on my chest and widen.
“Oh, she’s not mine.” I chuckle awkwardly. “She’s my niece. Aren’t you, Stella?” I coo at her, my cheeks flushing. Not sure why, but I don’t want him thinking this baby is mine.
His mouth relaxes, and he nods in response. “Let’s go over your plans once again.” He’s dressed almost the same as the last time, but there are no smudges on his nose, and his flannel is red today.
I show him what I want done, and he writes it in his little notepad.
“Sadie, I have an amazing idea!” Sandy sings songs, walking out the back and stops in her tracks. “Oh.”
Logan clears his throat. “I’ll measure everything out now. Just need to get the tools from my van.”
“Who is that ?” Sandy whisper-yells, her eyes wide as saucers as she takes Stella from me.
“The guy your husband sent me.” I roll my eyes .
“Oh Lord, maybe I need a deck, too.” She fans her face with a piece of paper she’s holding.
I smack her hand away playfully. “Back off. I barely managed to convince him to build me one.”
She snorts, and we enter the house. Logan comes back with his toolbox and kneels to dig through it.
“Now share what you were singing about when you came here.”
She takes a seat at the kitchen island, Stella in her lap, while I pour us both another cup of coffee.
“Look what I found.” She slams the piece of paper on the island victoriously.
I lean forward to see what it says. It’s a list of romance tropes I typically use for plotting my books. “Yes, and?”
“Exactly.” Her eyes are glowing.
“What?” I take a long sip of coffee, as if it will help me understand.
“You know that improv thing? You need to be like ‘yes, and…’ to all my suggestions. Do you agree?”
“I’ve known you for thirty-two years. You really think I will say yes to something you planned before knowing what it is?” I deadpan, making her groan.
“Fine. This,” she presses her finger to the paper, “is your dating strategy.” Stella starts fidgeting and whining, so she gets up and bounces on her feet. “We will find you your very own happily ever after, using these romance tropes.”
“You’re crazy.”
“No, I want to see you happy.” She exhales a long breath. She’s all fun and games, but I know she worries about me.
“I’ll be happy. Once I get my deck.” I raise my cup and shoot her a smirk. “Now get going, your baby obviously needs you.”
Sandy hisses like I’ve burned her. “Fine, we’ll leave you for today. But we will circle back to this.”
There’s no question about it. Once she gets an idea she likes, she hyper-focuses on it.
No matter how ridiculous they may sound, she turns them into something amazing, and I have a few incredibly successful book releases to prove it.
And maybe this wouldn’t be the worst thing ever.
It would probably take my mind off the guilt and anxiety I’ve been feeling.
Logan enters the house, carrying his toolbox and placing his baseball cap underneath his arm. He sports a buzz cut that showcases his perfect bone structure even more, along with his dark stubble. His eyes are the blackest brown I’ve ever seen, his irises almost invisible. Fuck, he’s hot.
“Done for the day?” I manage to ask.
“I’m going to do some sketches. I’d like to send you some pictures of backyards I did, and you can tell me if that’s what you were imagining.”
“Sure, that’d be great.” I take another sip of coffee, holding my cup with both hands.
He shoots me a sheepish look, stuffing his free hand into his pocket. “Just to make sure, you’re ok with me sending you deck pics?”
Drops of coffee splatter from my mouth as my eyes widen.
“Sorry, that was a lame joke.” He scratches the back of his neck.
“No, it was a great joke.” My fake laugh is pathetic. “It just caught me off guard.”
He nods and heads to the door. “We’ll be in touch.”
Was that flirting? Did he flirt with me?
Fuck, I’m such a cliché. A desperate divorcee thirsting after her pool boy (deck boy, fine).