“I guess many folks here haven’t moved on with the times,” she offered as way of explaining everything.
“Don’t worry about it. Just don’t think you’ve got to walk the same path as everyone else. You’re free to make your own choices. Don’t let anyone hold you back. Not even me. Sprinkle the soil gentle over the seeds and be careful not to disturb them.”
She smiled and covered the tiny seeds. He placed netting over the freshly planted soil, which she learned helped protect the seeds from birds wanting to eat them.
“Tell me about yourself then, and I’ll tell you some bits about me,” she said.
“Okay. I promise,” he agreed.
“All right. What do you want to know?" she asked and sipped from the glass of lemonade he’d brought out. The sun was high in the sky and its heat was beating down on them.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you," she continued. "I got the job at the library. I work four days a week and only for a couple of hours each day. Should be fun.”
“Congratulations. I take it waitress work wasn’t cutting it?”
“Not even," she answered. "I hated it, and there’s this guy who keeps following me around, or at least he’s there wherever I turn. He drives me crazy,” she admitted.
Dean was quiet for a short time and she sat by him on the bench and gazed at their handy work. Most of the seeds had been planted and patches of the garden started to look structured.
“Do you think he’s got a crush?” Dean asked.
She couldn’t help but to burst out laughing.
“Why are you laughing?” Dean asked.
Laura laughed harder. Dean joined in and they both chuckled together.
“Peter Miller does not have a crush on me,” she told him and chuckled to herself. The idea was ridiculous.
“Why not? You’re a woman and you’re in his age bracket.”
“Believe me. I’m not his type. He goes for the blonde and beautiful ones,” she said to him.
“You don’t know what he thinks. He may have a crush and not know what to say. Just because your hair isn’t blonde, don’t rule out an attraction,” he replied.
Laura stared at him. He hadn’t said she was not beautiful.
“I’m fat. No man would stare twice at me,” she responded.
Dean tapped her on the hand. The action shocked her, even though it wasn’t painful. “Hey,” she said.
“You know, you women get me. Do you really think men care about body shape?” he asked.
“You haven’t been in the dating scene for some time. You clearly you don’t understand how important it is,” she argued.
“You’re not fat, Laura, and far from it and while you’re on my property you don’t say that word. Let's move on because I feel this subject is going to lead to more arguing.” Dean lifted his glass and took a long swig.
She stared at him a few seconds before drinking from her own.
“What movies do you like?” he asked.
“Romance,” she said instantly, no longer trying to play it cool.
“Great. I’ve got a few movies to watch over the weekend. What do you think about watching them with me? I’ve already phoned your parents for permission. I didn’t want to ask you and get your hopes up in case they refused.”
It sounded as if he thought her child and that he had to get her parents permission. Laura placed her glass down on the grass lawn and leaned back folding her arms. Most people her age were already in their own places.
“I’ve got to get my own place,” she muttered under her breath. Looking at Dean she responded, “Yes, I’d love to watch some films with you.”
They stayed outside watching the sun set in the sky. She loved being pressed against his warmth and feeling as if she belonged. Dean was an amazing man, even if he teased her constantly.
“Could you tell me one thing about yourself?” she asked as the last rays of sunlight shone on the garden.
“I’m scared of spiders,” he whispered as he bent down and pressed a kiss to her head.
She closed her eyes at his touch. The act seemed so natural. She was thankful for his ease around her.
“I’d better take you home,” he said and took her hand to lead her to his car.
She didn’t know if he was aware of what he was doing, but she liked it.
* * * *
Dean dropped her at home and declined the offer of dinner. His creative juices were flowing and he needed to get back to his study. The work in progress didn’t have a title yet, but the small snippet he’d sent to his editor had been well received.
He placed a shop bought pasta bake in the oven and moved to his office. The screen was lit and before he’d even sat down his fingers were playing along the keypad.
The nightmare had struck. Another man played for her affections and she didn’t even see it. The beauty within her was masked by her insecurity. Didn’t she know how precious she’d become to his every waking need? Her soft skin and welcoming smile was the best part of his day, but he couldn’t control every part of her daily life. When he drove her home, they were the worst parts of his day. He knew the rest of the night would be spent fighting off the demons of his past -- the pain, and then the guilt, as this young woman invaded his mind.
What would it be like to kiss her? To feel those soft, plump lips open up beneath him? He was being driven insane by a woman he couldn’t have.
Who was the man she’d talked about? Did she want him or was her hatred just an act? He would be driven insane if he didn’t get an answer soon.
Dean sat back and stared at the words on the screen. This story was starting to freak him out. He couldn’t analyse why he wrote this way. Usually he wrote about dominant men getting what they wanted. This man didn’t want anything but one woman.
He ran fingers through his hair and left his computer. Laura was having more of an impact on his life than he’d like. Her scent clung to every surface, a vanilla scent that was soothing to him.
His editor liked the transformation in his writing style, but he wasn’t so sure himself. He was so far out of his comfort zone. He went to the kitchen and grabbed his meal and a cold beer before returning to the computer.
Laura Cox was a young woman who was slowly becoming his reason for living. He couldn’t do this. The woman was twenty years younger than he. These feelings inside him were wrong and being near her didn’t help. That’s why he decided that going into the garden would be a great idea. The change in space would provide him with the realization that she wasn’t his type. Who was he kidding? She was a full figured woman with a funny sense of humour and the most amazing kind, brown eyes. Her eyes reminded him so much of his wife. Carla had seen passed everyone and everything and her innocence had struck him to the core. He had not been his wife's first lover, but her experience should have knocked out any gentleness within her. Not so. Carla had remained pure in everything.