“Need some help?” I shout.
His hand raises above his eyes and he stands on his tip toes. “No.” His gaze falls back to the ladder and his shoulders slump as his bottom lip slips between his teeth. “Maybe. I don't think I'll make this weekend's farmer market either.” His brows turn down and he jumps up when I rest a hand on his shoulder.
“You have two days. A lot can be done in two days. Especially when you have a neighbor who’s always coming to your rescue.” I tilt my head and his lips curl into a smile.
“That does make a difference. I hate to keep imposing on him though. I'm sure he has some secret mission to go on or needs to rip down some wanted posters nearby.”
I laugh, stepping closer and rub a smudge of dirt from his cheek. “That can all wait until tomorrow.” I wink.
His eyes widen as my thumb closed in on the corner of his mouth, rubbing peach juice into his skin. “Someones been eating on the job.”
“Yeah…I uh skipped dinner.”
My jaw tightens, my ears burning and not liking the sound of that. I don't like him not taking care of himself. That becomes more and more clear to me each day. “Set the ladder down and follow me,” I say, making a beeline for his house.
He grabs the basket and jogs after me, his shorter legs struggling to keep up as I march forward. “Wait. Where are we going?”
“You can't keep working out here on an empty stomach. I bet you haven't drank anything in a long time either.” I open the door, standing to the side until he enters the house first.
Not responding, he doesn't meet my eyes and the silence is all the answer I need. I grit my teeth, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. “Here, drink,” I demand, handing it to him.
He jumps forward, his fingers colliding with mine briefly before he yanks them back. “Okay, okay.” He takes a long sip and as he's lowering the bottle, I push at the bottom.
“More.”
He does as I say, his eyes staying on mine as he finishes off the whole bottle. The plastic smashes between his fingers and he wags it in the air. “There. Happy?”
“Almost. Sit. I'll fix you something to eat.” I rummage through the cabinets, finding nothing but canned soup, Ramen and mac n cheese. “I thought you were going to the grocery store today?”
“I did.” He sits on one of the stools next to the kitchen island.
“Doesn't look like it.” Ten minutes after digging through his freezer, I stumble upon some shrimp. I run hot water over the bag and grab some broccoli I saw in the fridge when I fetched him some water. He watches as I busy myself in his kitchen, heating up the pan on the stove and using the small amount of olive oil in a glass bottle by the large green jar of spatulas.
“Do you often barge into people's kitchens and make them dinner?”
“No but no one has ever been as bad at taking care of themselves as you are.”
“And why is that any of your concern?” He leans back, sending me a cocky grin.
“Why isn't it any of yours?”
“That doesn't answer my question.”
Blowing out a breath of air. I scoop the food onto a plate after making sure it's cooked all the way and set it in front of him. “I guess it's not but that stray cat my brother keeps taking care of isn't any of his either but he does it anyway.”
He gawks at me, mouth parting. “Are you comparing me to a stray cat?”
“Maybe,” I say, smiling wider as I look over the peaches in the basket. “You going to sell only the fruit or make jam like some of the other tables do?”
Standing up, he moves to grab a fork but I beat him to it. He snatches it from my hand, looking up at me as he sits back down. “I'm not a stray cat.”
I laugh. “You're really stuck on that, huh? You know there are worse things to be compared to.”
“There are better ones too,” he barks out, his lips forming into a pout and fuck I want to kiss them. Not yet. But maybe a quick peck won't hurt. My mouth goes dry. Yeah, no way will I be able to stop there.
“There's nothing wrong with stray cats. They are cute and make good company over time. Or at least from what I hear.” I lift a peach from the basket, stroking the soft skin and his breaths quicken.
“Over time, huh? So have I reached that stage yet?” He licks at his fork, rolling his tongue over the tip and my cock stiffens.