The Apple Tree (Sunday Morning, #2) (20)
“And then what?”
Mom shrugged. “Fred said she left.”
“Left? When? Recently? Or when he was a baby?”
Mom shook her head. “Your dad didn’t ask. He didn’t want to pry. It’s nobody’s business.”
I couldn’t imagine leaving a child at any age.
“Maybe he didn’t want Josh’s mom to leave. Maybe he’s heartbroken. I wouldn’t play matchmaker quite yet.”
Mom shook her head. “I’m not. But it’s a free world. If they call him and one thing leads to another, then I guess it’s God’s plan.”
No.
God’s plan was for Kyle to be my crush.
My obsession.
My favorite dream.
I didn’t want to share him, even if he wasn’t mine to not share.
And he didn’t have time to date because he was too busy teaching me things.
“Good morning,” Kyle said with an irresistible smile as I approached his house.
He was sitting on the porch swing with a steaming cup of coffee.
My gaze devoured every inch of him in his Devil’s Head T-shirt, jogging shorts, and black Nikes.
“Morning. Where’s Josh?”
“Still asleep. But he’ll wake up soon. Do you drink coffee?”
I shook my head. “It tastes grody, even with sugar.”
“Have you tried it with cream?”
“Why?” I leaned against the wooden post.
“Because it tastes better with cream.”
“Better than what? If something tastes nasty, why try to make it less nasty unless it’s something like broccoli or Brussels sprouts that are good for you?”
He chuckled before sipping his coffee. Then he held it out to me. “Try it.”
I had no interest in trying his coffee, but I was very interested in sharing a drink with him, putting my mouth close to where his had been.
I pushed off the post and took the mug, taking a small sip.
It was still grody.
“Better, huh?”
I shook my head, handing him the mug. “No. Not better. Orange juice is better. The apples on your trees are better. Brussels sprouts are better.”
“You look extra nice today. What’s the occasion?”
I glanced down at my blouse and pleated khaki shorts. “They’re just clothes.”
“Do you clean rooms in those?”
Why did everyone have to comment on my clothes?
“Where are you taking me fishing?”
“Black Paw Lake.”
“Nobody fishes there.”
“Exactly. But there are fish in the lake, so two birds, one stone.”
“You don’t want anyone seeing us fish?”
“Bingo.” He winked.
I opened my mouth to protest his need to be so secretive, but then it hit me that we would be secluded and alone, which was fine too.
He stood and sipped his coffee again before heading into the house.
“You should know that three desperate women in town are interested in you.” I followed him into the kitchen. “They asked my mom about you. I said she should stay out of it. You just moved here. You have a new job. And you have Josh. So …”
He set his mug by the sink. “You assume I don’t have time to date? Or you don’t think any of these women are a good match for me?”
“Yes.” I returned a sharp nod.
Kyle grinned. “You don’t think I have time to date, and you don’t think any of these women are a good match for me?”
“Correct.” I pressed my lips together and shrugged.
“Or is it that you don’t want me dating anyone, which makes no sense.”
“First, why would I care if you date someone? And you’re right; it wouldn’t make sense for me not to want you to date, but why do you think that?”
“Because if I date someone, I’ll need a babysitter. And if you babysit for me, then I’ll owe you which means you’ll learn more things on that long list of yours. You should want me to date.”
Or you could date me.
“True. But we don’t have time to discuss this any longer. You have practice, and none of these women are the ones. I’ll let you know if I find a good fit.”
Kyle’s eyebrows made a slow ascent of his forehead. “Are you my babysitter and my matchmaker?”
I rolled my eyes and sighed. “I hadn’t planned on it, but I’m obviously the best qualified, so I’ll do it.”
He grabbed his keys. “Why are you best qualified?”
“Because I’m young. I know almost everyone in town. I hear all the gossip. And I have totally awesome taste in everything.”
“And you’re humble. So humble.” He smirked, stopping beside me before continuing to the door.
I didn’t turn my head at first, but when I did, he winked.
Why was he such a winker? And why did I think it meant he liked me? Like … liked me.
CHAPTER NINE
JOHN PARR, “NAUGHTY NAUGHTY”
Eve
We met at the lake after dinner.
Kyle was already in his fishing boat when I arrived. I walked at double speed, clenched my fists, and told myself to slow down and chill out. But I couldn’t. He was taking me fishing on a lake that didn’t have another boat in sight.