The Romance Revival(12)

Twenty years later, we share a thriving landscaping business. He was the best man at my wedding, is still my best friend, and we see each other every day.

“Just finished up at the Anderson place a little while ago.” Crash reaches up, scratching his jaw. He has a cluster of California tattoos littering his body, including Saddleback Mountain across his shoulders, a cluster of poppies on his right forearm, and his born and raised in San Diego mom’s name on his left bicep. “Julie was topless in the backyard.”

“Again?” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my thighs as I look back at him. “Didn’t she know you were coming?”

“Dude, she was the one who buzzed me in the gate.”

“I can work their place next time and make it clear that sort of thing isn’t acceptable.”

“Oh, I wasn’t complaining.” At my wary look, Crash laughs. “Listen, I just keep my eyes on the grass. Doug has that navy veteran flag out front and a huge NRA bumper sticker on his truck. I like breasts as much as the next guy, but I’m not stupid.”

A pointed throat clearing precedes a shaky voice asking, “How are you today, Luca?”

Both of us glance over to the fence that separates my yard from the neighbor’s, where Mrs. Caldwell’s gray hair and bespectacled watery blue eyes peek over the top.

She can’t be more than five feet tall and, given that the fence is six, I got her a stepladder last summer so she’d stop standing on one of her patio chairs when she wants to talk, since apparently not invading our privacy at all hours isn’t an option. She lives alone, after all. The last thing I want is for her to fall and hurt herself.

“I’m doing good, Betty,” I say, and Crash and I stand to move closer to the fence. My mother would kill me for referring to a woman Betty’s age by her first name, but Betty has told me no fewer than ten times to not be so formal. “How about you? Anything interesting happen today?”

“The Silvas had a Realtor over yesterday, though I’m not sure how much they think they’ll get after painting their house that terrible, sickly green. They haven’t listed it, so I’m assuming the Realtor said the same thing.”

I smile. “Ah.”

“And I’m trying to get the sheriff’s department to put up one of those digital speed check signs in front of my house. You leave so early you probably don’t see, but there are too many people ignoring the posted limit when they’re running late in the morning.”

“I hope that group doesn’t include Emery,” I say, laughing.

“No, she’s usually very conscientious about her speed.” Betty sniffs, casually adding, “I noticed you were home all morning. I hope everything’s all right.”

Beside me, Crash snorts. The woman misses nothing. “She had an important presentation today, so I stuck around to see her off,” I explain.

“That’s lovely, Luca. You are a very thoughtful person.”

“He’s a real sweetie,” Crash adds, and Betty slides her eyes to him, disapproval plain on her face. Crash spends most workdays shirtless, something Betty finds distasteful. Add in his full-sleeve tattoos and she probably thinks he’s planning to break into her house.

“Oh, before I forget.” Betty frowns and leans in as if she fears we’re being overheard. “Have you seen a white electric sedan driving up and down the street today?”

I tilt my head, thinking. “Not that I can recall.”

She sighs, clearly aggrieved. “I saw it at least three times this afternoon but didn’t recognize it or the driver.” She frowns, adding like a curse: “Tinted windows.” Turning to look toward the street, she continues, “I couldn’t catch the plate, but maybe you’ll have better luck if it goes by again.”

“I’ll keep an eye out and let you know.”

“I appreciate that. I don’t like strangers circling around the neighborhood.”

“I know you don’t, Betty.”

“And could you transplant those milkweed plants in my front yard?” she asks, lifting her chin in that direction. “I know you put them there for the butterflies, but they’re looking a little leggy.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll move them this weekend.”

“Patience of a saint, you,” Crash says when we’re alone again.

“She’s lonely,” I say with a shrug.

“And keep an eye out for a white electric sedan? That’s the California state bird.”

I laugh at this, and Crash hooks a thumb over his shoulder. “All right, I’m off.”

“Date tonight?” I ask.

“Nah. Dinner with Mama Leora.”

He’s currently single, but knowing him, that could change at any moment. Crash is a total mama’s boy and loves women, going from one relationship to the next with the same frequency most people hit snooze in the morning. But he’s so likeable, there are rarely any hard feelings on either side. He had a thing for Emery’s friend Annie for a while, but apparently he checks too many boxes on her Ick List, so even the most charismatic man I’ve ever known couldn’t win her over.

Glancing at his phone, Crash types out a text before tucking it into his back pocket. “Let me know if you want to do something later. You know…”