Chapter Seven
from nightmares she couldn’t remember. As soon as her eyes opened, they were gone, but they always lingered just behind her lids and waited for sleep to claim her. She sat up, her shirt sticking to her back from a thin layer of sweat. She didn’t know if the nightmares caused the perspiration or the mugginess that lingered in the bunker. Maybe both. Josh wasn’t lying about the heat. She could already feel it pressing on her, and only the barest hint of light peeked from the horizon.
Walking into the bathroom, she turned on the faucet and washed her face off with some cool water. She didn’t look in the mirror, didn’t care to. She knew she had dark circles under her eyes. Even when she didn’t toss and turn all night, they sat beneath her lids, like puffy, weighted bags. Still, it wasn’t what was under her eyes, so much as what she saw in them. Reggie avoided mirrors as much as possible. She mostly needed them for changing lanes and backing her truck up. She didn’t wear makeup if she could avoid it, and it was easy enough to toss her hair up. For the most part, Reggie didn’t care to see her reflection, and she’d opted not to care what people thought about her looks.
Her mother did that enough for Reggie.
After getting dressed in a pair of jean shorts and a tank-top, Reggie went outside, walking around the front of the greenhouse. Leaves crunched beneath her boots as she worked her way through the rows of plants. Josh leaned against the back of his truck wearing loose khakis and a white shirt. She could see the light outline of something on his shoulder—some sort of tattoo she couldn’t make out. His arm muscles flexed as he sipped his java and Reggie stopped, swallowing thickly.
Josh did not help her problem with the heat.
He looked over, eyes widening. “Reggie, you better—“
Before he finished his sentence, a low hiss sounded as water sprayed up from the ground. Reggie yelped as the frigid drops hit her skin, dousing through her clothes in seconds. She ran out of the battlefield of liquid but felt somewhat refreshed by the humidity. Her thick hair clung to her face, and she grumbled as the moisture in the air quickly made the feel of her sticky clothes uncomfortable.
Josh jogged over to her, his lips pressed into a thin line, turning up at the edges.
Reggie narrowed her gaze. “A little warning next time.” She went to take a step and slipped on the slick soil, landing on her ass.
Josh burst out laughing. He bent at the waist, a hand to his belly.
“Oh, hell. I’m sorry, cher, but that’s funny.”
For a brief moment, her mother’s words came into her mind. Act like a lady, Regina. No man wants a heathen.
Reggie had been eight, playing with her brother in the backyard in her best Easter dress. They chased each other and tumbled in the grass, getting green stains all around the hem. Her mother nearly blew a gasket.
She huffed and ignored her mother’s chastising voice in her head.
“Sure it is. You’re still standing.” Smart ass. Maybe a little harsh, Reggie thought, but she’d always been raised to get even. She held out her hand. “Help me up, chuckles.”
Standing up, he took the offered hand. “Come on, then. We still got a lot of work to do.”
“That we do.” Reggie jerked on his hand.
Josh let out a yell and fell into the muck next to her.
“I told you not to call me, cher.” For emphasis, she picked up a handful of mud and plopped it on his head. It slid down the side of his face in thick rivulets. She grinned at him. “Maybe now you’ll remember.”
“Hey!” he laughed. “Dirty shot.”
“Probably.” Reggie stood up and shook the excess gook off her hand. “I’m going to go clean up. Meet you back in ten.”
“You don’t play fair, Reggie,” Josh said, wiping his face.
“Oh honey,” she said. “You have no idea.”
Turning, Reggie walked back to the bunkhouse, putting a little more swagger in her step than was necessary.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off her ass as Reggie walked away. Reggie’s bold attitude caught his attention just as much as her natural beauty and untamed hair. Shaking his head, he fell back in the mud, the edge of the sprinklers washing over his face. His hands rested against his chest and he let his eyes fall closed. Her silhouette rested behind his lids, almost like a woman behind a screen. All he could see was the smooth curve of her hip, the dip of her belly. Shadow and woman, both were beautiful.
“Dad?”
He lifted his head, resting his hand over his eyes to shield the glare of the sun. “Yeah, Em?”
“Watcha doing?” She ran her fingers through her mussed hair and then smoothed out her Monster High night shirt.
Grunting, Josh stood up. “Nothing. Slipped in the mud.” He walked over to his daughter. “Why are you up so early? It’s Saturday.”
Emma shrugged.
Josh frowned. He knew she still had nightmares about her mom. He shook out the front of his shirt. “All right, well go get dressed and wake up your brother. I’ll fix you breakfast after I get cleaned up.”
“Don’t you have to work?” She drawled out the question, testing for his answer.
“Just in the morning, kiddo,” Josh replied. “Don’t worry, we’ll be in time for the game.”
Josh was the assistant coach of The Hornets, and he knew Em was looking forward to their match against The Blue’s.
She smiled. “Cool! I’ve been working on my fastball.”
“And I can’t wait to see it,” Josh said. Walking over, he ruffled her hair. “I’m going to let Reggie know to start loading the soil on the truck. Then we’ll take it out and deliver it to the park for tomorrow. Aunt Carrie will pick you up early and I’ll meet you at the field.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” He bent down and kissed her forehead. A bit of mud stained her skin, and he chuckled, wiping it off with his thumb. “Now go get your brother up. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Emma turned on her heel and dashed inside. Josh ran his hands over his hair, wiping away the excess mud and muck before walking to the bunkhouse.
He had to play breadwinner, dad, and mom. Josh didn’t think he did mom very well, and he was grateful for Sylvia and Carrie’s help when it came to that. They were life savers, but Josh still tried to support his kids, no matter what. They loved baseball. Carrie coached, and he helped. He wanted them to feel that he was there and that he cared. Josh would drop the business, drop the world for them. He needed to make sure they knew they were loved and that he’d never abandon them.
“Hey Reggie,” Josh called as he knocked on the door. “Kids are up early. I’m going to fix them breakfast.”
The hinges on the door screamed as Reggie jerked it open. Josh stepped back, surprised at how fast she’d changed. She’d rinsed off, her dark hair slick with water, and pulled back into a ponytail. She’d changed into a clean pair of jean shorts and a blue tank top. She wore her boots, still caked with mud.
“No problem,” she said. “What do you want me to do in the meantime?”
Josh’s voice seemed to have forgotten how to work. He cleared his throat to jump start it. “Uh, just load the soil in the truck?”
She leaned against the door frame, crossing her arms just under her breasts, giving them a slight lift. The cleavage pressed against the collar of her tank top and he tried really hard not to stare.
“Is that a question?” she asked.
“Smart ass,” he said, rubbing his hand over his hair. “But yeah, go ahead and do that. Ten bags should do. Mary, my mom, she’ll be here soon, and I’ll be out to help then.”
“Take your time,” Reggie said. “I can handle the grunt work.”
“Oh, I’m sure you can.”
She raised her brows again, her lip turned up in an impish smirk. “Careful Mr. Fisher. You’re going to get yourself into trouble.”
“Yeah, I think I already might be.” He jabbed his thumb at the house. “Gonna go.”
“You do that.”
Rubbing the back of his head Josh walked back to the house, wondering how he was going to survive the week.