Project: Parenthood. Trish Wylie
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was making her third trip from the house to the car. This time with a screaming toddler in her arms. And from the way she was moving he could tell she wasn’t having much fun. No sign of a dad to help out either. Maybe he’d had sense enough to head out for work earlier, before the chaos kicked in.
If it had been Brendan, he’d have relished that kind of chaos.
He shook his head. He should have bought a damn apartment in some new complex filled with single people. People who didn’t make up perfect little family units in a hive of houses filled with similar perfect family units.
Hell, he’d have been better off with a paper cut and some nice lemon juice to pour on it.
But the house was a good investment.
The woman leaned in through the car door and soothed the screaming child until there was silence. Then, running her hands back through her dark hair to tame it, she closed the door and started around to the driver’s side. But halfway around the car she stopped, and there was a frustrated scream and a stamp of one high heel. Her hands rose for a moment and then dropped to her sides. ‘No, not this morning! Don’t do this to me!’
He stepped away from the van and looked where she was looking. A flat tyre. That sucked.
Well, he shrugged to himself, that was one way to get to meet the neighbours. And Lord knew she looked as if she could do with being rescued.
So he did the decent thing and jogged across the street. ‘Hi. Do you need a hand?’
She jumped when he spoke, and swung to face him, her hair swinging across her face. ‘I have a flat tyre.’
Brendan looked down at the offending object and nodded wisely. ‘Yep, I’d say you do, all right.’
‘I can’t fix a flat tyre in this outfit.’ There was a brief pause while she joined him in looking at the tyre. Then she took a breath and her voice changed. ‘I don’t suppose I could possibly ask you—?’
The male in him noted the shift in her vocal tone immediately. How it had changed from annoyed to beguiling in the space of one sentence. She was trying to flirt with him to get him to change the tyre. Typical woman. Obviously some ditzy housewife who had never learned how to change a tyre because her husband always did it for her.
He smiled and looked at her as she brushed her hair back from her face. And his breath caught.
‘Teagan.’
Her eyes flickered up to meet his, then widened. ‘Brendan.’
Blond brows quirked at the guarded way she said his name. He tried a wider smile. ‘Well, this is a surprise.’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I’m moving in across the road.’
‘You bought the house across from me?’ Her eyes moved to look at the half-unloaded van. ‘When did that happen?’
‘Got the keys the day before yesterday. I have to say if I’d been given a list of people I might bump into when I got here—’
‘Mine would have been the last?’ Her chin rose as she looked back at him, a small, tight smile on her lips. ‘That’s nice.’
Her cool stare brought his back up. Okay, so she was having a bad morning—obviously—but that really was no excuse to be rude. After all, he’d come over to help.
‘Well, it’s been a while.’ He folded his arms across his broad chest and nodded.
‘Yes, it has.’
He made another attempt at lightening the mood. Not that she really deserved it. One long finger pointed towards the car, where at least the crying hadn’t started up again. ‘About three of those ago, apparently.’
Teagan snorted out a brief laugh. ‘Oh, they’re not mine. They’re my sister’s kids.’
‘You stole them?’
The smile she gave him was a little more relaxed. ‘Nope. Why would a person do that, exactly?’
‘Well, they’re cute.’ He waved through the window.
‘Yes, they are that.’ She waved herself, and was rewarded by three smiles. ‘But they’re also really hard work.’
‘I’d heard that rumour.’
She glanced at him in the reflection of the glass, seemed to take a moment or two to think and then asked, ‘Look, I’m sorry to ask you this, but is there any chance you could give me a hand with the tyre? I’m going to be really late to work at this rate.’
‘You’re taking them with you to work?’
‘No.’ She laughed again. ‘There’s a daycare centre nearby, and they’ve said they can take them today for me to help out. After that I’m on my own.’
Brendan took a breath as he turned to look at her. He blinked as he thought, his eyes moving over her profile while his mind remembered what she’d looked like the last time he had seen her. Nine years hadn’t done her any harm. She looked great, if a little on the harassed side.
When she turned her face to his she blinked up at him with her large green eyes and he remembered more about the last time he had seen her. The night he had kissed her and she’d told him to get over himself before she ran. He’d never had a chance to see her again, to talk it out. She’d given him no choice.
And now she was his neighbour. Well…
He cleared his throat. ‘I’ll help with the tyre. No problem. It’s what I came over here to do.’
There was a brief pause, then, ‘Thanks.’
Another smile was attempted. ‘You’re welcome.’
Teagan hesitated for a brief moment. Then she answered the smile with one of her own. After all, he was being helpful.
She followed him around as he pulled the spare wheel from the boot and gathered the tools he needed. It gave her a few moments to think of some conversation to make. After all, a big part of her work every day was talking to people. It shouldn’t be so difficult.
But all she could think of was, Well, hell—of all the people!
‘So.’ His voice sounded out from her knee height. ‘No kids of your own, then?’
‘No, no kids of my own.’ For some completely unknown reason she felt she had to justify that. ‘I’m too busy with my career.’
‘Not for as long as you have these three, you’re not.’
Well, thank you, Brendan, for stating the obvious. She scowled at his back as he finished jacking up the car and reached for the wrench. ‘No, the busy part is still there. This wasn’t a booked visit.’
His voice came out with a slight grunt as he worked on the first wheelnut. ‘How are you going to manage, then? Will your husband help?’
Subtle one.
‘I’m too busy with my career for a husband.’
‘You must be doing great in work, then.’
‘As a matter of fact I am. Thanks.’ Her scowl promoted itself to a frown.
He nodded as he freed the last nut and wrenched the tyre off. ‘Well, good for you.’
If she’d been a dog she’d have growled at him. In the space of a few sentences he’d made her feel as if the years since she’d parted company with him had been achievement-free. Just because his goals were different from hers, it didn’t mean hers were any less fulfilling!
After all, she owned her house—along with the bank. She almost completely owned her car. Her bank balance was healthy enough to allow a shopping spree at least once a month, and she paid every one of her bills before the ink turned red. She thought she was doing pretty well