“I’m glad you’re sorry because you’re going to help her rebuild it.” This from the tall, dark and somewhat handsome man.
“What? No.” Addy turned to the giant glowering at the boy. “It’s really not necessary.”
“The hell it isn’t. I told him to stay off that damn bike while I went in to help his sister. He disobeyed, nearly killed himself and destroyed property in the process. He’s helping fix this.”
“You’re cussing,” Chris whined, making a god-awful face. “I don’t know nothin’ about fixin’ stuff.”
“Well, that’s the way you learn.” The man picked up the motorbike as if it were a small toy and rolled it toward the split in the plastic as the older boy arrived on scene.
“Holy shit, Chris, what did you do? Mom’s going to freak.”
“Watch your mouth,” Lucas said, shooting the older boy a stern look, blatantly ignoring his own naughty word moments before.
Michael crossed his arms and gave his uncle a go-to-hell look. “Whatever. Like you don’t cuss.”
The man ignored him and shoved the bike toward Michael. “Take this to your house.”
Michael caught the bike and glowered. “Why do I have to clean up his messes? I always have to—”
“Do what I said,” Lucas said, his tone brooking no further argument. “Where’s your sister? I left her in the bathroom.”
And that was when Charlotte showed up sans pants.
“I’m through,” she trilled with a smile, thrusting a wad of toilet paper in the air toward Lucas.
For a moment, all were stunned silent.
“Where are your pants?” Lucas asked as the two older boys started laughing.
“I couldn’t put them on. You hadda wipe me.” She looked about three or four years old. Old enough to know better than to go outside with a bare behind. Young enough not to care.
The man lifted his eyes heavenward and took in a deep breath. Addy wasn’t sure if he was praying or trying his best not to bolt toward the huge truck he’d parked in the narrow drive the day before. She didn’t know why he’d gotten saddled with the Finlays’ three kids, dog, cat and whatever else they sustained in the rambling shotgun house next door, but he was more of a champ than she.
Or was that chump?
“For crying out loud, Lottie. You’re not supposed to leave the bathroom without clothes on. And you can wipe yourself. You know it and I know it,” Chris said looking like a small parent. “Wipe yourself.”
“But not when I go poop,” Charlotte said, twisting cherub lips beneath bright blue eyes, corkscrew blond curls and a bow askew on her snarled ponytail. Tears filled her eyes and that bottom lip trembled.
The man’s mouth moved.
Definitely praying.
“Uh, hi, Charlotte. Remember me? I’m Miss Addy,” she said, darting a look toward Chris so he got the message about what her name actually was. “Why don’t you go with your brother Michael to your house and let him help you find your pants.”
She heard Michael’s bark of protest and shot him a look that said “Shut it” before turning to the darling pantless girl. “When you’re done, you can come back and I’ll give you a homemade chocolate chip cookie Aunt Flora made for her bridge club.”
Charlotte made a little smile adorable enough to melt the sternest of hearts.
Lucas sighed. “Please, Charlotte, go with your brother.”
The little girl looked up, up, up at the big man above her and her body literally shook. “Mmm’kay.”
Michael rolled his eyes, shifted the dirt bike to Chris and took his sister’s hand—not before carefully inspecting it—and tugged her out the hole in the greenhouse. Toilet paper trailed behind the barefoot child.
Lucas gave Addy his full attention for the first time. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Think I’ll just go, too,” Chris said, slinking past his uncle, rolling his bike toward the entrance.
“Wait,” Lucas said.
The boy stopped and looked at his uncle with frightened eyes. Addy watched as the man forced himself to relax.
“You need to help Miss—” He struggled for her name.
“Toussant,” Addy said.
“—Toussant clean up. And then we’ll arrange a time for you to help repair the damage you’ve done.”
“A boy can’t fix this.” Addy’s gaze roved over the rubble. “I have to replace some beams and most of the sheeting. Plus several of the shelves are broken. And pots. And several plants will need replacing...” Her voice faded as the enormity of the task set in.
“I’m going to help, too,” Lucas said, his dark eyes sweeping her from foot to crown, but not in a skeevy way. No hair raised on her neck. The look was appreciative, but not harmful. There was something else—a tingly awareness that made her swallow the misery of the situation and avert her eyes from the broad shoulders and hard jaw. Her thoughts needed to stay away from the overt maleness of Uncle Lucas.
“I’m sure you don’t have the time what with taking care of the children.”
“I need to help.” His eyes relented in hardness, giving her a glimpse of something else within the depths. Was it desperation? “In fact, I’ll get Michael to help, too. We can make short work of the cleanup.”
“He’s not going to like it,” Chris muttered. “He doesn’t like helping with anything. He’s lazy.”
Addy smiled. Most thirteen-year-old boys were lazy when it came to chores. Michael was not lazy, however, when it came to lacrosse. The boy tossed balls all over his yard. And Addy’s and Mr. Linnert’s and every house within a one-hundred-yard radius. “I don’t care what he likes or doesn’t,” Lucas said, toeing a piece of wood hanging haphazardly from the metal framework of the shelves. “He’s helping us rebuild Miss Toussant’s shed.”
“Greenhouse,” Addy said, accepting the fact she’d have three males and a sometimes pantless toddler invading her world...whether she wished it or not. Lucas didn’t seem the sort to take no for an answer, which was somewhat alarming. But Addy couldn’t deny it would be good for Chris to learn how to right the wrong he’d created. And something about the pleading in the man’s voice had her conceding to what would likely be more trouble than aid. “And you might as well call me Addy since we’re embarking upon a project together.”
“And I’m Lucas.”
“Lucas,” she repeated, holding out her hand again.
This time he took hold of her small hand with something roughly the size of a grizzly paw. But his grasp was warm, friendly even, for a man who seemed made of hard corners.
No zaps of attraction.
No weird tingly crap like in all those movies. Just heartfelt and firm. She inhaled slowly and exhaled with a smile.
Something about his handshake allowed for respite, for some measure of conviction. She knew Courtney and Ben Finlay well enough to know they wouldn’t leave their children with anyone who wasn’t trustworthy. She pulled her hand from his. “I don’t have time this week to rebuild the greenhouse, but I work only until noon on Saturdays. Should be home by one o’clock. I’ll make a list of materials, and if you can get them from a home improvement store...”
Lucas’s eyes traveled over her again. “I can and will. I’m sorry this happened to your