Chapter 2
Savannah
By Eleven in the morning, it’s over ninety degrees. I’m wearing a hat that shades my face. Nate gives me most of the shady jobs, but I’m still sweating pretty much everywhere. Then Nate pulls his sweat-soaked shirt over his head and wipes his face with it. My body temperature spikes even further.
I try not to get distracted by the drops of sweat that cascade down his back or the play of strong muscles as they work under his smooth, tanned skin. But even fully dressed, Nate is a distraction.
He’s tall and wide and built. His hair is close cropped, which probably keeps him cooler in the summer. It also highlights the salt in his salt and pepper color. His well-groomed beard lends to the whole muscular mountain man vibe he has going on.
When I hear Rubio chuckling, I look over to see him give me a quick wink before turning back to his work, edging the grass. I’m in the shade of the trees, raking leaves into a pile while Nate mows the lawn.
I turn away, cheeks even hotter than before. I rake the pile of leaves onto a tarp that we’ll tie up and combine with the rest of the greens to take to be composted at the end of the day.
With the lawnmower’s motor whirring, we don’t talk a lot, so I have my earbuds in as I complete all the tasks Nate assigns me. It makes time go faster. After a while, I start swaying to the beat.
When I look up, it’s to find Nate and Rubio chuckling. I shake my head at them, but keep going with my work, trying not to pay too much attention to Nate’s naked torso.
As we ride in Nate’s truck from one job to another, I try to keep my thoughts to myself, but I’m nervous, so the words just seem to pop out. I tell Nate and Rubio about my volunteer work at the animal shelter and my plans to — hopefully — become a vet tech and eventually a veterinarian.
The plans aren’t new. They’re the same ones I had the last time I saw Nate, but he still acts interested in what I’ve been doing since I’ve seen him.
Every once in a while, over the past couple of years, I’d get up the nerve to text him. He always texted back, which made me feel good, but I’d quickly run out of things to say and then weeks or months would stretch between contact.
I’ve always felt a little tongue-tied around Nate since I first met him. Mom knew about my crush and thought it was cute. I don’t think she realized how salacious my fantasies about Nate became as I got older.
At the next house, as soon as we pull up, a woman steps out of the front door in a white bikini carrying two tall glasses filled with a sunshine yellow liquid.
I hesitate to get out of the car. She’s everything I’m not — blonde, beautiful, tall, and model thin.
And when she sees Nate get out of the car shirtless, she licks her lips.
“Why do you always put this house on our job list?” Rubio grumbles.
“Because I can flirt faster than any of the other guys and I won’t actually fuck a client, especially a married one.”
When I look back at the woman, I see a flash of light catch on the large diamond on her left hand. Yet there she is in a string bikini, waiting for Nate to show up. She must have been waiting at the window. Her house is huge, and so is her yard, which means we’ll be here for a while.
“Nate,” she calls. “I thought you might be thirsty.”
“Is that second glass for you or for her?” I ask Rubio.
“She’s never offered me anything, chica.”
“Rude. I was afraid that was the case. And she thinks Nate will go for someone like her?”
Rubio pats my arm before getting out of the back seat. I get out next. We all watch as she approaches, hips and breasts swaying.
She stops short when she sees me. “Oh,” she says. “I didn’t realize you had a daughter.”
“She’s Nate’s girlfriend, Mrs. Miller,” Rubio says.
My eyes flare wide and I turn to look between Nate and Rubio. Nate coughs. Luckily, Mrs. Miller is too busy throwing an imperious look at Rubio to notice my surprised reaction. When she turns back to me with narrowed eyes, I smile wide and link my hand with Nate’s.
I realize too late that I don’t know how Nate feels about this lie. He could pull away and tell the truth, leaving me to tidy this woman’s garden humiliated. But as soon as my palm slides against his, Nate wraps his fingers around mine and squeezes reassuringly.
“I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone.”
Nate shrugs. “I wasn’t sure Savannah was in it for the long haul. She’s young.” He turns to me. “But she’s mature and beautiful and has a good head on her shoulders. She’s studying to be a vet.”
It’s surreal. These are things a proud father might say about his daughter, but the context of him pretending I’m his girlfriend changes everything.
“Does she call you Daddy?” Mrs. Miller jokes.
When she says that, Nate’s hand tightens around mine. Something flashes in his eyes too, something I don’t quite know how to place due to my lack of experience, but I’m pretty sure it’s arousal.
I’m pretty sure that I just discovered a kink of Nate’s because I highly doubt that arousal has anything to do with me specifically. Mrs. Miller is more Nate’s type. If you take away the fake boobs, she looks a lot like his ex-wife.
“Good thing I didn’t put any vodka in the lemonade,” Mrs. Miller says. “Or your little girlfriend wouldn’t be able to drink it.” She hands over a glass to Nate and a glass to me with a brow raised.
I shake my head. “Rubio can have mine. I’m sure you brought it out for him, anyway. I’ll just have my water.” I hold up my bottle and shake it.
Mrs. Miller looks confused for a moment before noticing Rubio a few feet away. She hesitates, swallows, and finally extends her arm to Rubio. As soon as he takes the glass, she jerks her hand away as if she’s afraid he’s going to slip the diamond bracelet right off her wrist.
Maybe she thinks all of Nate’s tan is from the sun, but it’s not. His mother is from Mérida, Mexico. His father is the one with the Welsh ancestors that passed on the last name of Wallace.
I sip water from my insulated bottle while Nate and Rubio drain their cups. When she takes the empty glasses, Mrs. Miller looks more like she’s the one who just drank lemonade, unsweetened lemonade.
“Lying usually bites you in the ass,” Nate says to Rubio.
Rubio shrugs. “She’s got enough bad karma that I think I’ll be safe.”
Nate snorts, then turns to me. “You okay with this? It’s just for an hour. I don’t particularly want to admit to her that I’m unattached.”
I don’t know if it’s the heat of the sun or that look I saw in Nate’s eyes, but I say, “It’s fine. Looks like I’ll be your girlfriend for the next hour or so… Daddy.”