Georgia Pine (Southern Promises Book 3) Read online

  In awe, she strode over to him. “What have you done?”

  His smile faded as he looked up at her with the greenest eyes she hadn’t noticed before.

  “What do you mean? We had a little cleanup party, that’s all. The girls helped and then told me they were hungry. I was going to let you know, but you were in the middle of a little cat nap. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  Jessica swallowed hard, his random act of kindness catching her off guard.

  “Mama, you want some pasta? It’s really good.” Her oldest daughter Jennifer always looked out for her. These past few months it was as if she knew her mother was on a dangerous ledge about to jump.

  “No, baby-doll. Not right now. I’ll have some later. Promise.” Her comment appeased the child. She watched as Tim stood, his incredible height making her bend her neck all the way back as he stood tall. With her mouth hanging open in wonder, she stepped back. “How tall are you anyway?” she innocently asked.

  A slight smile played on his lips before he hoisted the laundry basket on his hip. “I’m six foot five.”

  “Wow,” she muttered. “You’re as tall as a Georgia pine.”

  Tim’s brow creased as he tried to stifle a smile. “You could say that,” he replied sheepishly. “Where do you want the towels? You got a linen closet upstairs you want me to put them in?”

  Jessica was suddenly embarrassed. “No, no. You don’t have to do that. Please.”

  He tilted his head while he looked down at her. “I promise, I don’t mind.”

  She swallowed again and could only nod.

  “Upstairs?” he asked again, humor tingeing his voice.

  “Yes, upstairs. First closet on the right.” She watched him stroll toward the staircase, his backside making her take a deep breath. The man was over-the-top gorgeous in a sexy mountain-man kind of way. Why hadn’t she noticed him before?

  “Mama, can I have some more milk?” Jennifer asked, holding up her glass.

  “Yes, baby. Coming right up.”

  Even with the dinner dishes scattered about, Jessica’s kitchen had never looked cleaner. She filled the girl’s cups halfway with more milk, tussling baby Jo-Jo’s blonde curls along the way. She sampled the remnants of the pasta dish sitting on the stove. It was incredible.

  Tim reentered the kitchen and picked up a water bottle he had stashed in the corner, gulping it down quickly. His Adam’s apple moved with each swallow, and Jessica caught herself staring. Even his throat was sexy. She blushed and looked away, taking another bite of the food. “What is in this? It’s so good.”

  Tim smiled and refilled his bottle at the sink. “I just used what you had in the fridge. Broccoli, carrots, Monterey Jack cheese, a bit of parmesan…”

  “You put vegetables in this?” Jessica whispered, interrupting Tim and leaning closer so the girls wouldn’t hear.

  He chuckled as he screwed the top back on his bottle. “If you cut them up real small and steam them first to soften, they never know.” He kept his voice low.

  Jessica was flabbergasted. Not only did the man know how to garden, change a diaper, fold towels and pick up toys, he had somehow coerced her daughters into eating real vegetables. “You’re the little girl whisperer,” she joked. This made him laugh out loud. Her daughters giggled in response, watching them banter with interest. She wondered what other unique talents he had.

  They tag-teamed while cleaning up the dinner dishes, Tim insisting Jessica finish the pasta. He teased her about the earlier Oreo raid in the pantry and suggested she get some real nourishment in her system other than cookies. The sun was already dipping low on the horizon as the girls settled down to watch one more show before bedtime.

  As Jessica wiped down the counters, Tim approached with his hands in his pockets. “Your four-year-old, Julia—she doesn’t say much, does she?”

  Jessica pursed her lips. “She’s my quiet girl. She’s always been like that. Her pediatrician assures me she’ll start jabbering away when she’s ready. For now, Jennifer does all the talking for her.”

  “Yes, I noticed.” He sat at the bar and laced his fingers together. “You have a beautiful family, Jessica.” In a hushed tone, he continued. “Where’s their daddy?”

  She froze, unable to look him in the eye. Her own eyes welled unexpectedly with tears. What was wrong with her? She should be glad that bastard was out of their lives—glad she had a chance at a fresh start.

  “Hey… Hey, Jessica, it’s okay.” He came from around the counter and stood next to her, placing his hand gently on her shoulder. The heat from his palm sent a shiver through her body. “Jennifer told me he doesn’t live here anymore. I remembered the envelope in your hand and kind of put two and two together. You’re going through a divorce, aren’t you?”

  She shook her head vigorously and corrected him. “I went through a divorce. It was finalized today. My lawyer sent the final papers.”

  Tim squeezed her shoulder as if to comfort her. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” she said, craning her head to look up at him with misty eyes. The pendant light over the marble island cast a gold orb around his glorious head of hair, and for a second, she couldn’t help but think he looked exactly like a model on the cover of one of her friend’s romance novels. “I’m fine now. I just needed a moment to get over the shock. Thank you so much for being here for me—for us.” She waved her hand outward toward the girls.

  “You’re welcome.” His smile made her weak in the knees. “If it’s alright, I’d like to check in with you from time to time when I’m working in your yard. Say hello?”

  Jessica used her index finger to wipe a stray tear from under her eyes, her smile beaming. “I’m sure the girls would like that very much.” And she wouldn’t mind either.

  Chapter Three

  Tim’s house was dark, the headlights of his truck throwing long diagonals of light across the cinderblock modern structure tucked deep in the woods. The large parcel of land he owned outright was surrounded by clusters of trees, steep ravines, and open fields; an oasis for a man who liked to live his life in quiet and solitude. He punched in a code on the keypad to his elaborate alarm system, ready to finally relax after the long, unexpected day. He tossed his backpack into the foyer corner and made his way into the spotless kitchen, flicking on lights along the way. He grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge and opened it, taking a long pull from the bottle. Wiping his lips with the back of his hand, his fingers lingered on his beard and tugged the long hairs that grew out from his chin. What a day.

  The Kaufman yard was the only plot he had managed to work on; his other two clients put on the back burner. He only worked three days a week for the small, independently owned landscape company, the manual labor something he thrived on, keeping his mind off his past. The owner of the company, a hard-working Latino man named Martin Hernandez, was more than appreciative for any time Tim could spare to help with the prosperous business. That, and the occasional translating he did on behalf of the company for some of the larger jobs of the wealthy clients. Tim was California born and raised, living most of his adult life on the West Coast. Growing up on his parent’s almond farm in Northern California, he befriended many Spanish speaking day laborers and their families. You could say Spanish was his second language.

  The large open floor plan of his home was sparsely furnished; his minimalistic mindset a new reality after having it all. The emptiness of the rooms carried over into his heart. But today had been different. Today, his heart was…full.

  Flopping on the oversized couch, he reflected on the time he spent with the Kaufman girls, especially Jessica. How Stephen Kaufman could let go of such a beautiful woman like her, he’d never understand. Her blue eyes took his breath away, the curves of her body making his hands twitch to reach out and caress her flawless skin. Her Southern drawl was charming, the love for her children, evident. Surely, she wasn’t one of those women who married for money. But why else would she have
ended up with a man like Stephen Kaufman? Some women were like that, and the thought disappointed him.

  He recalled edging the front lawn of their estate one sunny afternoon several months ago, surprised when Mr. Kaufman pulled up the driveway in an over-the-top sports car and asked him politely to leave. Perplexed, Tim didn’t say a word and packed up. That was when he noticed a pretty brunette in the passenger seat. He left the home as instructed and never thought about the incident again. It all made sense now. Mr. Kaufman didn’t want him there that day because the woman in the car wasn’t his wife.

  Tim shook his head and chugged more beer. Jessica asked him point blank why he was so good with kids, especially when he brilliantly changed the diaper of little Jo-Jo. Lucky for him, he had spent an entire three months with his sister Tabitha and her family. His two young nieces, one of which was a toddler, required lots of love and attention, which included diaper changes. Tabitha wasn’t about to let him get away from his uncle duties and taught him the basics.

  Tim sighed and finished off the beer, reflecting on those special months with his sister and her family. It was right after his entire world was rocked; when he needed to escape the chaos and uncertainty of his future. Tabitha encouraged him to come to Malibu and cleaned out a spare room in her beach house just for him. Thankful for the rest and the precious time with family away from his old life in Northern California, she insisted he stay as long as he needed. His sister was instrumental in helping him decide to take some time off from the West Coast altogether until the dust settled. Opting for the suburbs of Atlanta and the warm climate he loved, Tim found he could get lost in the landscape, lick his wounds, and figure out his next step. Two years later, settled on a small plot of land he could call his own, he was content, for the most part living day by day without the constant barrage of media and irate fans hounding his every move. It was a simple life, one he had no intention of sharing with anyone from the outside world, ever.

  His day started early, at six in the morning with a long run through the trails he had traversed daily for months, or a bike ride on the winding streets of the suburban back roads before the early commuters took over the asphalt. His state-of-the-art home gym was a sanctuary where he spent long hours pushing his body to the limit. The land he bought had been on the market for years, developers turning their nose up at the unusual landscape that included woods, fields and steep, rocky inclines. It was the perfect, private place for a man who had fallen from grace.

  Twirling the empty bottle in his fingers, Tim leaned back with one hand clasped behind his head. He couldn’t get Jessica Kaufman out of his mind. It had been years since he dated—years since he had voluntarily socialized with anyone. He meant what he said when he told her he was going to stop by and check in on her and the girls. Running his free hand through his long hair, he smiled, knowing it would be soon.

  ***

  Jessica lay in the far-left corner of her vast California-king bed, barely taking up any space. She scrolled through the numerous messages on her cell phone with a raised eyebrow. It seemed word had gotten out about her finalized divorce, some of her friends in the neighborhood texting to make sure she was okay, asking if she was going to have to move. Some of these gals weren’t close friends—they were nosy bitches looking for the latest neighborhood gossip, and she was the flavor-of-the-week. Their boldness and blatant rudeness in their questions was unbelievable. There were also a couple of messages from her mother, and her best friend Elizabeth asking her to please call. Jessica didn’t have the energy.

  She tossed her phone onto the bedside table and stared up at the ornate ceiling fan turning lazily above. Being an only child had its disadvantages. This was one of them. She was a grown woman and her parents still treated her like a child, coaching her in her behavior and what she should say to everyone about her divorce. Her own mother had dared to tell her she shouldn’t even think about dating for at least three years!

  “No man is going to want someone with four daughters, sweetie. I want you to be prepared.”

  Jessica inhaled sharply, wishing she had a sister to talk to. She could always call her bestie, Elizabeth, but it was late, and she’d see her tomorrow and fill her in then. It gave her great satisfaction knowing her girls had each other. They would never be alone in the world like she was growing up. They would always, always have someone to count on when life hit them hard.

  She sighed, feeling like a tractor-trailer had hit her. Maybe she and the girls should take that long, overdue vacation to Disney World she’d been thinking about. Now was as good a time as any. But could she handle four little ones on her own in a place that big without help? She hadn’t been able to handle them all in the past few months, her out-of-control household evidence of that.

  Contemplating a Disney vacay, Jessica bent her fingers in front of her face and scowled, looking at her fingernails—the edges gnawed off from countless days of stress and angst not knowing where she and her daughters would end up. If her mother saw her nails or the way she dressed each day in flimsy running shorts and tank tops, she’d be appalled. It was a far cry from the meticulously put-together outfits she used to take pride in wearing before she had children, intentionally showing off for her new husband. All her life she had been conditioned to create a façade of perfection. As a teen, she was the perfect daughter, the perfect high school cheerleader, and the perfect sorority girl. As a woman, she mastered the image of a perfect friend, a perfect wife, and a perfect mother. The reality of marriage and children threw perfection out the window, and she just didn’t care anymore. Really, what did it matter? She did the best she could to make it through another day without completely falling apart in front of her girls.

  When the courier delivered the papers from her lawyer, the new reality punched her in the gut and made her feel like she had failed her children. Overwhelmed with disappointment and uncertainty, she wanted to jump in her white Land Rover and drive far, far away. But she had responsibilities at home. Her only real escape was the pantry in her kitchen, explaining to her daughters that she needed her own time-out, which gave her space to fall apart without upsetting them in the process. What she wasn’t prepared for was a tall, Georgia pine of a man coming to her rescue in her most vulnerable moment.

  If her parents knew she had allowed a strange man into her home while she had a mini-meltdown in the pantry, they would have come unglued, for sure. They’d snub their noses at a man like Tim McGill and insist she stay as far away as possible from a blue-collar worker who looked more like a beast than a man. It didn’t matter if he was a decent human being or a kind-hearted gentleman. The fact that he worked in landscaping and used his hands in manual labor was something they’d never approve of. It was drilled into her head her entire life that she was destined to wed a wealthy, educated man. Yeah, right. Look how that turned out.

  Pulling the sheets to her chin, she thought about Tim. The girls were enamored with him, saying his bearded face and long hair reminded them of the Beast in their favorite Disney movie. She laughed at the memory and thought guys with that much hair were usually hiding from something. Did he have some kind of a past, or was he just a crunchy granola kind of guy with a free spirit? He seemed pretty reserved and laid back, and he was nothing but gentle around her daughters. She recalled watching him on the video baby monitor when he tenderly picked up Jo-Jo, his face breaking into a giant grin, tickling her while she lay on the changing table. The way he spoke to her with true intention was precious, and she was fascinated watching him. Stephen never engaged with their daughters like that. Stephen never seemed to have any time for them at all, and when they did spend time together, he was often more annoyed than anything. Disapproval and anger were his go-to’s, not able to handle the loud noises and playful antics of four little girls. It was his loss—and her daughters. Would they ever have a father figure in their lives? A man who could show them unconditional love? Sending up a fervent prayer, she shivered.

  Baby Jo-Jo started to babbl
e over the baby monitor. Jessica looked over at the video screen perched on her bedside table and smiled. Her tiny daughter stood in her crib, bobbing up and down saying “mama” over and over. Sliding out from underneath the sheets, Jessica tiptoed upstairs into the little girl’s room, her feet padding on the thick carpet. Joanne’s little face lit up at the sight of her, which made her heart throb with love.

  “Come here, sweet girl.” She lifted her out and retreated to the comfortable rocker she had used for many months as she nursed her little ones. Jo-Jo snuggled into her chest as Jessica rocked back and forth, the long day slowly coming to an end. She rested her chin on her daughter’s blonde curls and breathed in the scent of lavender and baby skin. This was her happy place, holding her child close. She exhaled and started to hum You Are My Sunshine before she closed her eyes.

  Her divorce was final—it was all behind her. Who knew what the future held. As long as her daughters were safe and she could hold them in her arms, there was nothing to fear. She’d do just fine on her own, empowered by their unconditional love.

  Chapter Four

  “Mrs. McDonald called and wanted her rose bushes pruned back if you can get to it,” Martin Hernandez instructed over the phone in a thick accent. “You know how meticulous she can get when it comes to her flowers, and she’d like to be there when it can get done.”

  “I’ll get to it today when I’m finished at the Johnson’s,” Tim replied, taking a respite from the hot and humid day in the shelter of his air-conditioned truck cab.

  “Gracias, Tim. You are much appreciated.”