“Of course. You know how I feel about being called Jason.”
“I only asked because the other day, Whitney—”
The muscles in his jaw tensed. “Yeah, she’s the only person who calls me that. I’ve kinda learned to live with it.”
He sounded as annoyed as he looked. Difficult as it was to take Whitney’s side, Lillie said, “She probably just wants to make sure everyone knows that her relationship with you is different—more special—than any other.”
“I guess that might explain it.”
Although he followed up with a dry chuckle, Lillie sensed that he wasn’t happy. She tried a different tack.
“Have you told her that you prefer Jase?”
“Not in so many words.” Jase removed the cap again, ran a hand through his dark hair. “Well, I have to go.”
A strange twinge pinched at her heart: What if...what if he’d stopped by to tell her he’d proposed to Whitney, but decided she wasn’t strong enough yet to hear the news?
“Didn’t mean to take you away from your work.”
“You didn’t.”
Lillie held her breath, hoping he’d say, When can I see you again? or better still, I’ve missed you, Lill. He nodded and made a thin line of his mouth. His “I don’t know what to say, so I won’t say anything” face, she remembered. “You’re welcome here anytime, Jase.”
Just then, his cell phone dinged. A worry line creased his forehead as he read the caller ID screen. Whitney. Lillie would have bet her wheelbarrow on it.
Jase slid wraparound sunglasses from his shirt pocket.
“See you around, Lill,” he said, and made his way down the driveway.
It wasn’t what she’d hoped to hear, but it beat “goodbye.”
Lillie faced the rows of marigolds and zinnias she’d planted in front of the roses. Funny, but they looked even brighter through the sheen of tears.
The counselors had cautioned her against expecting anything more than an arm’s-length friendship with Jase, and yet, somewhere deep in her heart, she’d hidden a glimmer of hope that when he realized how much she’d changed...
“Oh my, Lillie,” her mother said, leaning over the railing. “You’ve done a beautiful job! Are you almost finished?”
Turning so her mom wouldn’t see her tears, Lillie said, “I just need to give everything a good soaking and put away the tools.”
“Well, well, well. Will you look at this,” Liam said, coming to stand beside Amelia. “Looks like a professional landscaper did the work.”
Lillie couldn’t thank him for the compliment, because a sob ached in her throat.
“Hot dogs and hamburgers are ready, kitten, and your mom made her famous potato salad.”
Her mother took a step forward. “Are you all right, honey?”
“Just a little tired. Not used to being on my hands and knees,” she croaked out. It was only a half lie. The ache in her leg—so familiar since her accident—had flared up during all the yardwork. She’d be limping tomorrow.
“You must be famished. A good thing, because Sam is about to take the meat off the grill.”
“Are we eating out back?”
Liam said, “Yup. Red-checkered tablecloth, the whole nine yards.” Her dad started down the steps. “Let me help you clean up.”
Lillie twisted the hose nozzle and gasped when water spritzed the upper half of her body.
Another good thing, as it turned out, because the droplets camouflaged her tears.
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