Page 3 of Call of A Eagle

“Good to know the secret to a lasting marriage is shameless flirting,” I joked, though my thoughts were already drifting back to the landscaper I’d been expecting.

While I’d been hesitant to hire someone to help, the truth was a part of me was worried he’d show up, take one look at the place, and run for the hills because everything was so overgrown. The other part of me hoped he was half as competent as Brody made him out to be.

If so, it might be possible to get ahead.

I followed Granny into the little dining room. She set the plate of sandwiches on the table she’d already set and then reached for the pitcher of hibiscus tea and poured me a glass.

“I’ll make soup tomorrow since you’re so sick of my sandwiches,” she said, eyeing me.

She was a cantankerous old woman, I’d give her that.

“I was only joking about the sandwiches,” I said. “I love your sandwiches.”

“Sure you do.” She pursed her lips.

While we ate, I kept checking my watch, wondering if this guy would ever show.

“Keeping tabs on the time won’t make him appear,” Granny called me out. “Would it really matter if he showed up or not? Like I’ve said, the garden beds are fine. I knew exactly where everything is.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes and sigh, knowing she would reprehend me for it. “I never said you didn’t. All I said is getting them back into a manageable order would be nice. It would make things a lot smoother around here.”

“I can tell a weed from an herb, can’t you?” she asked directly. “Paying someone to tame the beds isn’t necessary.”

I didn’t respond. There was no point. The woman would argue with me until she was blue in the face about it. I knew how to pick my battles with her.

After finishing lunch, I helped her with the dishes and then made my way back to the bed I’d been working in previously.

“Please let this guy show up,” I whispered to the thyme, as if it could somehow make him appear. “Let him be as reliable and knowledgeable as Brody claimed he was.”

The sound of a vehicle approaching hit my ears, and I stood to see who it was. Wiping the dirt from my hands onto my jeans, I noticed an old, somewhat battered, truck coming down the driveway. My gaze zeroed in on the windshield, trying to get alook at the driver. The guy looked far too confident behind the wheel, with a mischievous glint in his eyes that immediately put me on guard.

He was nothing like I’d pictured.

First off, he was too young. I imagined the guy Brody mentioned would be older than me, not around the same age. Salt and pepper hair, kind eyes, and a few wrinkles around his eyes from squinting in the sun often was what I’d pictured. What I got was a young blond guy with a smirk that said he was trouble and a handsome face.

As the truck came to a stop, a twinge of anxiety spiraled through me. The driver’s side door creaked open and the guy behind the wheel stepped out. He was tall and completely relaxed, like he didn’t have a care in the world.

My owl stirred at his sudden nearness, a strange sensation that made me feel even more unsettled.

He glanced around, soaking in the place before finally turning his eyes to me. Something passed across his face, but it was gone before I could decipher what it was.

“Morning,” he said.

“Morning,” I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral. As he got closer, my owl stirred yet again. What was wrong with her? I’d never felt her so alert before around someone we’d just met. Was that a good sign or a bad one? “Did you have trouble finding the place? Sometimes Brody doesn’t give the best directions.”

His head cocked to the side, as though he hadn’t been expecting the question. “Nope, no trouble at all.”

If he hadn’t had any trouble finding the place, then why was he here so late?

“Oh. I figured that was why you weren’t here earlier this morning to check out the garden beds and see if you could help tame them.” I wasn’t sure why I was being so rude, but I was.Turning away from him, I pulled in a deep breath to calm myself and then gestured to the beds. “See for yourself.”

“Yikes,” he said, stepping to my side. I caught a whiff of his cologne and couldn’t deny how good the man smelled.

What was it about a good-smelling cologne that made a man ten times hotter? Not that this man needed any help in that department—he was attractive as could be.

“Name’s Waylen, by the way.” He extended a hand.

My hands were dirty and a bit clammy from working in the garden.