Page 18 of Beautiful Crazy

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Page 18 of Beautiful Crazy

Huffing out a breath, Grace mumbles, “We’ll see about that.”

“Can we just get back to watchingThe Bachelor, please? We’ve already missed half the damn episode.”

With the exception of the kids coming in to tattle on one another a few times, we’re actually able to focus on the rest of the episode without any more talk about my love life, or lack thereof, thankfully. If I’m being honest with myself, I can see where Georgia is coming from, and there is a large part of myself that has considered doing exactly what she’s suggesting.

But it’s so foreign and scary. I wouldn’t even knowwhere to begin, and it certainly couldn’t be with my son’s teacher… no matter how appealing the idea is. That’s just asking for a disaster. No matter how hot he is, or how nice he is, or how much it warmed my heart watching him sit and listen to Sutton go through every single baseball card that he owned the other day after dinner.

Especially the last one.

Being around Everett is warm and comfortable, but at the same time, I get little belly flutters I haven’t felt in years. The juxtaposition is equally exhilarating and scary. It reminds me of how it felt when I was much, much younger and learning to date for the first time.

When I finally do put myself back out there and try my hand at dating—or no-strings fun like Georgia suggested—it has to be with somebody who isn’t in my child’s life. I can’t risk that.

After our show ends, we all work together to clean up the food and the wineglasses from the table. It’s getting late, I’m going to have to get home soon, and hopefully get a little work done before bed. I don’t know if it’s just because summer is coming to an end and I have a lot on my mind, with needing to make sure Sutton has everything he needs for the start of school, but my concentration has been garbage lately.

“Sutton!” I call out into the yard. “Come on, time to go.”

Grace comes up beside me, calling her kids inside too. “Oh hey,” she murmurs, meeting my gaze. “I’m taking Beau to get his baseball equipment on Wednesday morning. Want me to take Sutton too?”

“Sure, that’d be awesome. Then I can get some work done. You sure that’s okay?”

“Of course it is.”

“Thanks. I’ll send you some money for the gear.”

As I pull into my driveway ten minutes later, my eyes can’t help but flit over to the house beside mine, wondering what he’s doing in there. Wondering how Everett spends his free time. Does he read? Is he a reality TV watcher? Does he wear pajamas to bed or is he a sleep-in-his-boxers type of guy? Or even better… a sleep-in-the-nude type of man.

Why is that thought so fucking hot?

Probably because Everett is fucking hot.

Lord help me.It’s going to be aloooongschool year.

Nine

Everett

Standing on the porch, I raise my hand to knock on the front door but pause, chickening out before I drop my arm.

“Just knock. It’s not a big deal.”

After I adjust my grip on the toolbox in my hand, I finally bring my fist down on the door, knocking once, twice, three times, hoping it’s not too early and she’s asleep. It’s after ten, but it’s also still summer, and some people like to sleep in.

Thankfully, after a few moments, the door opens, and Gemma appears in front of me, a slightly confused smile on her face.

“Everett, hi.”

She looks… wow. Dressed in a white tank top and a pair of hot pink shorts, it’s impossible not to notice what a sexy figure she has. It’s also impossible not to notice that she isn’t wearing a bra either as the outline of her hardened nipples poke through the thin material, something my eyes would love to focus on, but I force myself not to.

My mouth dries as I stand before her, suddenly completely forgetting the entire reason I knocked on her door. It takes a minute for my brain to catch up.

“Morning, Gemma.” Holding up the toolbox, I tell her, “I had some free time this morning and thought I could take a look at your dishwasher and see if I can fix it for you.”

Surprise brightens her eyes as her lips tug into a small grin. “Oh, that’s so sweet,” she murmurs. “But I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask.” I breathe out a laugh. “I offered, and I’d love to help. Not having a dishwasher can be a huge pain.”

Gemma chews on the inside of her cheek for a moment before she steps to the side. “Okay, but only if you’re sure. I don’t want to put you out.”




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