And when she introduced him to the group, he cut her off before she said his last name and was simply Derek to everyone except her and Tyson.
Derek mentioned how he and Tyson had met the one time, even remembering that Tyson was an attorney and a diehard Miami Hurricanes football fan. He also asked about Tyson’s cousin Sharon, wishing her well without any sign of bitterness in regards to their relationship that hadn’t panned out.
Then he pitched in. Not only did he have a can-do attitude, he had a surprising amount of knowledge and experience to back it up, especially when he offered to mow the lawn and actually repaired the lawnmower to do it.
But Gia’s conversation with Tyson before leaving home served as a warning to her not to be too impressed.
Sure, Derek Camden could fix a lawnmower and mow the lawn.
Sure, he could hoist fertilizer bags and paving stones with the best of them—flexing muscles that made Gia’s mouth water in a way that didn’t happen at the sight of anyone else’s flexing muscles.
Sure, he couldn’t have been more pleasant or agreeable or uncomplaining.
Sure, he made friends with everyone there and she even watched Tyson accept more and more of his overtures as the day went on.
But she continued to remind herself that appearances could be deceiving, and that she would not—could not—let herself be deceived by them.
Which wasn’t always easy to remember as the day went on and she got an eyeful of broad shoulders, thick thighs and a tight, perfectly shaped derriere she knew she had no business looking at.
And yet somehow couldn’t help stealing a glimpse of over and over again....
* * *
By six o’clock the Bronsons’ front and back yards were in better shape than they’d been in since Gia had known the elderly couple. Weeds were gone, bushes and trees were trimmed and the lawn was a well-manicured green carpet.
The volunteers had added a sandstone path from the front to the back and a second path from the back patio out to the toolshed. Landscapers had built a multitiered rock garden with room for flowers to be planted in the spring, and two of the horticulturists had planted shrubbery to line the fence in back. Gia and another botanist had formed a perennial garden just below the front porch on each side of the steps leading to the house.
The final effect was a vast improvement and upgrade that would require only minimal, easy maintenance either for Gia or for any new owner should the house have to be sold.
Throughout the day Larry had been in the center of things, unable to work but chatting with the people who were, while Marion went in and out of the house with beverages and cookies.
Gia had kept an eye on them both and had seen no indication that they were going to turn the hose on Derek or secretly dose him with laxatives, and she was glad that really had only been a joke.
But after both Larry and Marion had had Gia confirm on the sly that Derek was who they thought he was, neither of the Bronsons ventured too near to him, either. Or made any effort to talk to him the way they did everyone else.
For Derek’s part, he gave them the space they so obviously wanted, and the one time there was unavoidable contact he was polite and respectfully pleasant without pushing anything or going overboard trying to win their favor.
It was the best way he could have handled it, but still Gia wasn’t exactly sure what was going to happen when the work was finished and everyone—including Tyson—left, and only Derek and Gia remained to roll up hoses and put away tools.
As the elderly couple took a stroll around their newly enhanced yard to see the end results, it was impossible for them not to acknowledge Derek.
Gia was relieved when they spoke to him with guarded courtesy. But it was noticeable how all of their gratitude and praise went to her alone.
Even then, Derek handled the situation with aplomb. He agreed with them that Gia had done a remarkable job and didn’t seem in the least offended by their lack of gratitude for the backbreaking work he’d done all day.
When the older couple went inside, Gia said, “Thanks for everything you did today.”
“You’re welcome.” He grinned as if her gratitude was payment enough.
“I’m surprised that you knew your way around this stuff.”
“My grandmother raised my brothers, sisters, cousins and me—there are ten of us—and she was originally a farm girl, so she believed in chores for everybody. As a kid, I did yard work—among other things. All the boys in the family did—sexist, I know, but the girls had to do more dusting so I guess it evened out.”
“The Bronsons told me that H. J. Camden’s son, grandsons and granddaughters-in-law were killed in a plane crash—you were one of the ten great-grandchildren left....”
“I was. Left to GiGi—that’s what we call our grandmother—and H.J. and Margaret and Louie Haliburton, who work for GiGi but who are really more like family than anything.”
It wasn’t how Gia—or the Bronsons—had pictured things. They had imagined the Camdens as growing up like royalty, not as having to do their chores like any other family.
“But even with ten kids around, the Camdens didn’t have a troop of gardeners?” she asked.
He laughed. “Sure. A troop of seven able-bodied grandsons. We still trade off going over to help with the yard work even now—you’re just lucky that this wasn’t my week or I’d have been late getting here this morning.”
“Well, I’m glad you weren’t since no one else knew how to fix the lawnmower.”
“That church minister was making the attempt, though,” he reminded her. Then, after a pause, he said, “He wanted to take you to dinner tonight....”
The pastor had given it a second try.
“I didn’t know anyone had overheard that,” Gia said.
“Is he trying to convert you, or is he interested in more than that?” Derek asked with a hint of teasing to his tone.
Gia laughed. “I’ve wondered the same thing. I’m not exactly sure either way. But since he knows his congregation doesn’t approve of him being with someone who’s been divorced, it could be conversion.”
“So you said no.”
“Because I’m not interested in dating anyone for any reason.”
Derek Camden nodded. “Then what would you say to going our separate ways to clean up then meeting for a nondate bite to eat—just because you and I seem to be the only two without plans tonight?” He leaned in so he could add confidentially, “You can tell me how you think I did with the Bronsons today and maybe give me some tips for improvement.”
No.
It was a simple answer and the only one she knew she should give him.
But the wheels of Gia’s mind instantly began to spin.
It was Saturday night.
She’d put in a long day.
Everyone else had gone off on dates like Tyson had, or dinners out with spouses.
Larry and Marion were inside fixing their own dinner, after which they would cozy up on their sofa with popcorn to watch an old movie—their Saturday-night-at-the-movies tradition upheld even though they could no longer afford to go to a theater.
And she was slated for a shower and sitting alone in front of the television, eating whatever leftovers were in her fridge.
Or she could shower and meet Derek Camden for a bite to eat. A nondate. Unlike what the minister had invited her to.
She hadn’t been at all tempted to accept the minister’s