Page 5 of Love Expert

“Oh…” I lick my dry lips. “Okay.”

“And my dad is in the kitchen fixing the dishwasher, cos it keeps clogging up and making a mess.” Jeremy’s eyes grow wider, his missing front teeth glittering behind a mischievous grin. “He was cussin’, cos he banged his elbow when I kept asking what he was doing too many times, then he told me to get the hell outside and play.”

My eyes narrow to unhappy slits. “Do you think he meant you should play in your backyard?” I glance past him and notice the lack of fences between our front yards, and the cars that cruise past just a little too fast for comfort. “I don’t think it’s very safe out here. Anyone could take you.”

“Nobody would take me.” He moves his right foot back, leaves his left foot exactly where it is, and lifts both hands. “I do karate. Nobody would dare take me.”

“Oh, well…” I choke out a laugh that bubbles all the way from my belly. “Alrighty, then. I’m sorry I questioned you.” But then I hook my finger in the front of his shirt and give it the tiniest tug. “But now you’re atmyfront door, andIcould’ve grabbed you and put you in a soup pot already.”

His eyes flare wide.

“Safety is important, Jeremy Caster, which means you shouldn’t play in your front yard without an adult watching, and youdefinitelyshouldn’t knock on a stranger’s front door. Even if you know karate.” I release his shirt and straighten my legs before the overtired muscles explode. “Did you need something in particular, or just to say hello?”

“M-my ball went into your backyard.” He smooths his shirt over a slightly rounded belly, his chin doubling as he glances down at his hands. “I accidentally kicked it over the fence. I was gonna ask my dad to help me talk to you, but he told me he was busy and to stop bothering him.”

My temper sizzles and sparks in the back of my skull, licks of anger washing through my limbs and down to my balled fists. My hunger goes forgotten, replaced by a need to rip a jerky dad a new asshole. Pasting on my kindest smile, I raise a single finger. “Wait here a sec, okay? I’ll go get your ball.”

“Kay.” He backs up with a grin, completely oblivious to the edge of my porch and the pain he’ll feel if he stumbles. Instead, he practices hiskarate, hissing and kicking the air. He throws a wild jab and giggles as long brown hair drops into his eyes. “You want me to come into your house, Maggie? I could walk with you into your yard.”

“I thought we already discussed stranger danger and my soup pot?” I cast one last wary glance toward the street, then across to Billy’s house. “Don’t go near the road, okay? And don’t lean on the porch rails. They’re not very sturdy.”

Like he doesn’t believe me, he strides to the railing and gives it a shake. “Sheesh. That’s not sturdy at all.”

That’s what I just said!

“Wait here.” I leave my door wide open and spin on my heels, dashing through the house and dodging packed boxes as I go. I duck under a stuffed cat mounted to the wall—what the hell, Grandma?—then crash through my back door.

I stop for a beat and scour the overgrown yard, the unruly garden beds overflowing with struggling weeds, and around an array—like, two hundred of them—gardenthings;whirlybirds, bird baths, shiny hangingthings, lawn ornaments, pots stacked inside pots, and at least seven different-sized and shaped fire pits.

I spy a dark brown football sitting by a bone-dry fountain halfway across the yard, so I dash off the back porch and scoop it up. Only to pause and catch sight of a soccer ball ten feet away… so I grab that, too. Then I spot a basketball, and right beside that, another football.

I grab as many as I can carry, slipping my phone and keys into my pockets to free my hands, then juggling the lot, I head back inside, duck under the creepy cat, and emerge at my front door to find the little boy using my porch railing as a balance beam.

“Jeremy!” I toss the balls so they bounce in a dozen different directions, then I charge across the porch and scoop him off the railing before he falls and breaks a bone. “That’s so dangerous!”

He wraps his arms around my neck and points his toes to the sky, likeI’m his Prince Charming come to woo the beautiful princess. Smiling bright, he shows off several missing teeth and promises trouble.

So much trouble!

“I told you to wait here, silly.”

“I did wait here.” He leaps out of my arms and chases bouncing balls. “I waited exactly where you told me to wait.”

“I told you to wait on my porch.”

“Iwaswaiting on your porch. I didn’t go near the road or anythin’.” He spins, hugging the football and two basketballs to his chest, but then he drops the lot, stuffs a soccer ball under his shirt, then collects his cache again and beams. “I didn’t even remember I lost these! My dad said Mrs. Sava wasn’t gonna be home for a while, cos she got sick, so I wasn’t allowed to knock and ask.”

Sick… dead. Almost the same thing.

“Do you know Mrs. Sava?” He watches me, completely at ease as I pull my front door closed and grab the remaining balls. “She was nice to me and always gave my balls back. It sucks she doesn’t live here anymore.”

“Uh… yeah.” I meet his playful eyes. “I knew her. She was my grandma.”

He gasps, excited at this new morsel of information. “Really?”

“Really. But the last time I saw her, I was about your age. It’s been a long time.”

“Wow. That’s areallylong time.” He skips down my porch steps and angles right. “You’re a grownup, so you must be, like…”