I stash my cleaning bucket in the closet and head out the way I came. I’m almost to the door when someone whistles.
I don’t turn around. Why would I? No one has whistled at me in years. I’ve been invisible to the male eye since the moment I got pregnant.
The whistle comes again and this time I freeze, swiveling slowly.
Two young men I’ve yet to be introduced to wave at me.
Do I smile and wave Miss Congeniality style or do I turn away? I’m not sure which I feel like doing. I’m flattered that my mom caboose is still worth whistling at, but the last time someone catcalled me was when I met my good-for-nothing ex and his equally disturbing friends.
“Knock it off.” A voice booms through the garage, echoing off the cinderblock walls.
The guys practically jump inside the truck engine, but it doesn’t stop Ward’s approach.
“Are you men or are you boys?”
“Men, sir,” the two guys respond.
“Then act like it.” Ward stomps toward me, enough heat coming from his eyes to vaporize anything in his path.
I’m too afraid to move, sure that I’m getting the next tongue-lashing.
“Come on.” He doesn’t stop as he passes, just assumes I’ll follow.
Like I just follow attractive men around. He’s notthatgood-looking. My eyes drop to his backside, totally out of rebellion.
He’s…all right.
He doesn’t speak again until we are outside. “Sorry.”
“Me too,” I stutter, practically running to keep up with his freakishly long stride.
He turns his frown on me. “For what?“
I pull at a strand of hair that has escaped my braid. “Um, you go first.”
He stands up straighter, walking with his arms behind his back like a soldier ready to protect and serve. “I’m sorry about them. No man should ever treat a woman with that kind of disrespect. They’re new. They’ll learn.”
Heat rises up my neck. He is honorable, and wow that’s sexy.
I bite my bottom lip. “It was actually kind of flattering.”
His eyes narrow. “How so?”
I study the sidewalk cracks as they pass beneath me. “It’s nice to know someone can still find me attractive.”
He stumbles, then quickly rights himself and clears his throat. “There are better ways to tell a woman she is beautiful.” His voice has a hard edge to it.
I look over, curious. “Really? How’s that?”
He scratches the scruff on his chin and scans the parking lot. “When a real man finds a woman beautiful, he shouldn’t have to say anything. She should be able to see it all over his face.”
He doesn’t look at me, and I can’t decide if I want him to.
“Well, goodbye,” he says and spins away. His long strides take him right back in the direction we came, and my feet hopelessly try to follow, but I keep them in place.
I don’t place the same restrictions on my eyes.
Nine
