The second Garrett saw Jamie, he uttered a quick, “I’ll call you back,” and hung up. “Hey, J-man, you have a good time at your grandparents’ house?”
I came around the vehicle in time to see Jamie kick at some loose gravel, his head down and arms wrapped tightly around his book. He couldn’t look more sheepish if he tried. “Yeah.”
It didn’t faze Garrett, and the way he smiled at my child made something stir in my middle, feeling a lot like indigestion.
Jamie opened his mouth. Closed it. Then repeated the action a second time. A determined expression crossed his face and he nodded, almost to himself. He handed his book to me and marched right up to our neighbor, extending his hand toward him.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you. My mom told me you’re her friend and were just trying to help her.”
Garrett’s face softened as he shook my child’s hand and leaned down, “Never, and I mean never, apologize for defending your mom. You were right to yell at me.”
I forced myself to stay silent and let them hash it out when I really wanted to butt in and give my opinion. Jamie looked so much older than his eight years as he stood there, looking a grown ass man in the eye.
“We good, J-man?”
He gave a serious nod, “I would be okay with being friends.”
“Yeah?” Garrett’s smile lit my heart, giving that indigestion feeling a hard squeeze.
“Yeah.” Jamie released his hand, stepping toward me to grab his book. “But only if you promise not to make her cry again.”
Garrett’s smile fell, his face turning to stone as he locked eyes with me. “I promise.”
His words drifted to my heart and prodded at it, seeking entrance. I hadn’t trusted a man in a long time. Trusting someone meant opening yourself up for hurt, and I’d done that enough to last me a lifetime. But I believed him, and the knowledge of that had me sweating under my skin.
“Cool. So, you wanna come to my soccer game next Sunday?”
I choked on a laugh, pressing my fingers against my eyelids. For as protective as the kid could be, he was also completely guileless.
Garrett’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek, and an amused grin formed on his lips. “If you play soccer even half as well as you play games, I’ll be there.”
“Yeah, I’m basically the best.”
I laughed, snagging his shoulder and twisting him toward the door. “All right, hot shot, time to go inside.”
He grumbled an irritated, “Fine,” before also adding, “My mom will text you the time and place if you want to go.” He darted away, avoiding the playful smack I aimed at the back of his head.
I returned my attention to Garrett, feeling my pulse race when he shortened the distance between us to lean against the side of my Jeep. “Don’t let him guilt trip you, you don’t have to go Sunday.”
His face seemed contemplative, as he stuck his hands in his pockets and looked over my head toward the house. “You work, don’t you?”
I lowered my eyes, adjusting the strap of my purse over my shoulder. “Yeah, it’s at eleven in the morning, which is in the middle of my shift.”
“I’ll go.”
“You don’t have to—”
He cut me off again, straightening to his full height and stepping into my personal space until I had to tip my head back in order to maintain eye contact.
“Text me the address. I’ll go. I’ll even bring him home afterward. It’s not like it’s out of my way.” He smiled slowly, and it was sinful.