Free Unexpected Family by Molly O'Keefe Page B

could do that for me?”
    Casey glanced up at him, so hopeful that Jeremiah smiled, running his hand through the boy’s curls. “Go on, buddy, but mind your manners.”
    Sandra led him off with a wink and Jeremiah walked through the living room to the back patio. Looking out, he supposed the mess of weeds was the garden but he didn’t see any sign of Lucy.
    From the knot of vines in the corner of the plot, there was some movement and a flash of red. It took him a second to realize it was Lucy, on her hands and knees wearing camouflage pants, Doc Marten boots and a brown tank top. The flash of red was the edge of her underwear, revealed by the slipping waist of her pants.
    Lucy was gardening in a red thong.
    Immediately it was about thirty degrees hotter on the back deck. And it felt dirty and illicit to be staring at her underwear, especially when she didn’t know it, but he couldn’t look away. Just a few nights ago he’d touched her skin and it had been soft and warm, alluring. What an idiot he’d been to turn her away that night. A woman like Lucy Alatore didn’t give out second chances, she didn’t need to. And he’d blown it.
    Lucy was the hottest thing he’d seen in…hell, he didn’t know how long. Maybe forever. And he could have stood on that porch watching her, thinking dirty teenage thoughts, for days.
    “What are you looking at, son?”
    Jeremiah jumped and spun at the sound of the old man’s voice. Walter, propped up on a crutch, his foot in a cast, stood behind him. His face very knowing, and very disapproving.
    “I’m, uh, just looking for Lucy.”
    Walter didn’t say anything but he threw out a father vibe like Jeremiah hadn’t experienced in twenty-plus years.
    “It’s good to see you, Walter. Sorry about your foot.”
    Walter didn’t dignify his deflection with a response. He hopped slightly sideways to fall into a cushioned deck chair.
    “That your boy in the kitchen?”
    “Not mine. My sister’s. Her youngest.”
    Walter, grizzened and craggy, just grunted. He lifted a shaking hand to wipe the sweat off his top lip, his forehead. The guy was always stoic—in every memory Jeremiah had of Walter, the man was expressionless. Not so now. Walter was clearly in pain.
    “Do you need some help?” Jeremiah asked, stepping toward Walter only to stop when the old man started to laugh, wheezy and pained.
    “I need a goddamned drink,” Walter said, and then shook his head. “Go talk to Lucy or leave. But quit staring at her like she’s cheap.”
    Heat crawled over Jeremiah’s chest. It had been a long time since someone had talked to him that way and it didn’t sit well; of course, it had also been a long time since he deserved to be talked to that way.
    He tugged his hat down over his eyes and walked down the back steps to the garden. The steps squeaked and by the time he got to the bottom she was standing, that red thong hidden.
    “Jeremiah,” she said, her voice covered in ice. He wanted to tell her she had about a thousand smudges of dirt on her face and something green sticking out of her ponytail, all of which really ruined the imperial princess act. But since he was here to grovel, he figured that might not be the best way to start things. She tossed a handful of weeds toward the piles she had formed at the edges of the garden. He saw a lot of young vegetables in those piles and wondered if she just wasn’t sure what a weed was or if she had an issue with carrots.
    “What are you doing here?”
    “I…” He rubbed his hand over his mouth and down his neck, wishing this wasn’t so hard. Wishing it didn’t feel like he was betraying his sister and Larry by bringing in outsiders to help. He wished it didn’t feel like admitting to failure by…well, admitting to failure. “I’d like to take you up on your offer. If it still stands.”
    She hitched her loose pants up higher on her hips. “Which offer?”
    That kiss was suddenly between them, as vivid as the dirt on her