Prodigal Son (Jensen Family #1) (19 page)

Paul stretched and looked up
from his book “Bored” he groaned, drawing out the word for effect.

“I’m going shopping, you
could come.” Monica told him.

“Er no!
Take Matt, he’s the one being punished.”

“Thanks bro, remind her why
don’t you.” Matt griped, throwing an apple at Paul

Reaching out and catching the
apple, Paul closed his books and stood “I’m going to the park for a bit, I
won’t be late back.” He told his mother.

Paul knew exactly where he
was going but he headed in the direction of the park as he knew Monica would be
watching him leave from the living room window, he skirted around the edge of
the park then turned in the direction of town and the house where he would
spend a few hours each day. He was covered in dirt when he returned home,
carefully coming in the back of the house and catching Matt’s eye “Where’s
Mum?” he asked.

“Out” Matt answered “What
have you been doing, you’re filthy.”

“I’ve been working on
Carmen’s garden.”

“Carmen?”

“Miss
Scott, moron.
I need to get
changed.”

“Didn’t she end it?”

“Yeah it’s over but I
overheard her talking about her garden and I did cause her a bit of hassle,
it’s just my way of saying sorry.”

This behaviour became the
norm for Paul. He would wait until the usual urbanites would be at work and
Monica was occupied with one of her many coffee mornings before leaving the
house and working on Carmen’s garden. He carried out small tasks at first, a
little bit of weeding and edging, nothing obvious that would make her think
someone had been at her house. He considered leaving her a note on the day he
cut her lawn, just in case it freaked her out but decided that he was probably
the last person she wanted to hear from.

Within two weeks he had her
garden looking perfect and had started to repair little bits and pieces on her
house, sanding down and painting the window frames at the rear of the garage.
This particular day, he lost track of the time, he had begun pointing the
brickwork below her kitchen window when the window opened,
startling
him and making her scream at what she thought was an intruder.

“What are you doing here?”
She screeched, wrenching open the back door to confront him

“I’m just doing a few jobs
for you.”

“You are the one who has done
all this to my garden?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to make up for what
I did and for putting you in an impossible position.” He explained “I’m sorry
if I frightened you.”

She regarded the boy in front
of her; he hadn’t made any move to come closer, if anything he had backed away
“You have done a very good job.”

He shrugged “It’s what I do,
this is my job.”

“What do I owe you?” She
asked, she had moved further into the garden, admiring his work then she
noticed the freshly painted window frames and the pointing he had started.

“Nothing.
I don’t want you to pay me. I’m doing it to apologise
to you. I’d appreciate it if you let me finish what I’ve started
..

“I don’t think that’s a good
idea.” She told him.

“Look, I don’t have an
ulterior motive, I just want to help.”

“No ulterior motive huh?” she
questioned.

“Ok, I like you, a lot, those
feelings aren’t going to vanish overnight but more than anything I want to show
you that I’m a nice guy, I can be responsible for  my actions and I enjoy
being kept busy.” He gestured to her brickwork “And there is a lot here to keep
me busy.”

Carmen sat heavily on her
garden bench “You are very sweet.” She swallowed back a tear.

“Please don’t cry, I didn’t
mean to upset you.”

“You haven’t. I’m just not
used to people being genuinely nice.”

“Look, I’ll finish this bit
of pointing then I’ll go. I won’t come back if you don’t want me to.”

“I shouldn’t want you to,
maybe I want you here for the wrong reasons, I don’t know, but it would be good
to have the house looking nice. Thank you Paul for everything you’ve done.”

“So, I can come back?” he
asked.

“Yes, you won’t have to sneak
around anymore.” She stood “Would you like a drink?”

“No thanks.” He turned back
to his work “I won’t be much longer on this and then I’ll get out of your
hair.”

“What did you mean when you
said this is your job?” She asked.

“I have my own gardening and
Handyman Company. A couple of the guys that work for me did Miss
Meacher’s
lawn.”

“Oh, I didn’t know.”

“It started with me just
doing a couple of gardens for my Mum’s friends and kind of escalated, I went
into partnership with another company and now I own the majority of that
company, thanks to my Grandparents and business is good.”

“You are quite the
entrepreneur.” she smiled.

“Nah, I’m just lucky,” he
returned the smile “Don’t let me stop you from whatever you have to do. I’ll
let myself out.”

Carmen began to look forward
to going home, knowing he would be there. On several occasions, after a heavy
overnight rainfall, he would present her with flowers he had cut from her
garden that the rain had battered down. She convinced herself that there was
nothing wrong in letting him do odd jobs for her and her garden looked amazing.
They got into the habit of sitting and talking when she returned from school,
Paul would have the tools packed away by the time she changed into casual
clothes and they spent the summer evenings sitting on the patio talking about
anything from the latest event on the news to nature and Paul’s hope’s for his
future and as she got to know him, little by little, she began to realise what
a sensible and mature young man he was and she enjoyed his company immensely.

The more time he spent with
Carmen, the more time he wanted to spend with her. Being in her company was
bittersweet, while he happily chatted to her and maintained her house and garden,
he ached to touch her, knowing if he did, it would freak her out and probably
bring to an end what they had so for now he was happy to sit back and get to
know her, let her realise there was more to him than meets the eye.

“You’ll have to teach me the
basics of keeping the garden looking good.” She told him one evening.

“It’s pretty simple really,”
he replied. “But if you want to learn, I’ll be glad to show you.”

“I have a half day tomorrow.
Do you think you might be able to spare me some time?” She asked, she had seen
him arranging jobs in his diary and completing job cards for his staff and knew
he was a very busy
boy,
she hated to think that by
being here he was losing money.

“Of course I can be here
tomorrow, that’s the beauty of having people work for you.” He smiled.

“I wish you’d let me pay
you.”

“Don’t start that again. I
don’t want payment from you.”
His standard answer and one
that always, without fail, caused her brow to crease.

And so it began the following
afternoon, the gentle dance of seduction as he guided her through planting and
weeding working on their hands and knees, side by side. He listened when she
began to talk about her family, of her father who had died in a tragic accident
at work when she was five to her mother and brother who barely spoke to each
other and who she rarely saw. He learned that she had a quirky and somewhat
sassy sense of humour and that she was, at all times, mildly flirtatious but
also that she was quick to put him in his place if he overstepped the mark.

Carmen would often watch him
as he worked, he was thorough and very particular that everything was just so
and he always, without fail, tidied up any mess he had made. She found the days
when he didn’t come to her house very long and lonely and knew, without a
shadow of a doubt that she was falling for him, as his physical attractiveness
had initially drawn her in, his personality had sealed the deal and try as she
might to avoid her feelings, she knew deep down that she wanted to spend more
time with him in a more intimate setting. She relished the scorching summer
days that followed his exams as he would arrive at her house in shorts and a
baggy t-shirt, the latter garment would soon be discarded when he began to work
and she would find herself positively drooling at his sweat slick body that
slowly turned an even golden brown in the sun.

As the Jensen family prepared
for their annual pilgrimage to Spain, Paul made sure he had so much work on
that he couldn’t possibly be spared. Presenting Monica with his diary one
Sunday afternoon, he explained that he needed to stay at home and with the
diary in front of her, she couldn’t deny that her youngest child had made a
success of his business and was indeed, very busy. She agreed to let him stay
at home, telling him that he would need to check in with Michael’s parents and
Kay at least once a day and under no circumstances was he allowed to have a
party in the house. Promising reverently to obey the rules, Paul was smiling
smugly to himself when Matt finally entered their room and prepared for bed.

“Are you really that busy?”
he asked.

“Certainly am.” Paul
confirmed.

“You know Kay’s going to be
watching you like a hawk right?”

“I know, but I’ll be working
most of the day so all I have to do is drop by her place on the way home, show
my face and then I’m good to go.”

“When you go to see her, make
sure you keep your hands off Hayley.” Matt warned.

“
Ergh
.”
Paul
shuddered “I wouldn’t touch her if she was the last woman on earth,” he
assured. “Besides, I have bigger fish to fry.”

“Oh yeah?”
Matt sat on his
brothers
bed.
“Who?”

“Carmen. I’ve been doing a
little work for her, strictly off the books, we’ve become quite good friends as
odd as that sounds. She still denies any interest in me but I find it funny how
she appears out of nowhere when I take my shirt off, she pretends to sunbathe
but I can feel her watching me, she’s so ripe right now that a few coy smiles
and carefully placed compliments and she’ll be putty in my hands.” He gloated.

“But she ended it because of
the whole teacher, student thing.”

“True, but I’ve left school
now, she isn’t my teacher anymore. A point which I intend to force home leaving
her with little doubt what I want.”

“Let me get this straight,
you’ve spent your own time and money doing her garden just so that you can get
in her good books?”

“It’s not her books I want to
get into but yeah, you’ve pretty much got the jist”

“Well, you’re persistent,
I’ll give you that” Matt climbed into his own bed “This holiday is going to
suck balls without you”

“I’m sure you’ll find
something to keep you amused.” Paul winked at him as he turned off the light.

Carmen was hanging washing on
the line when Paul arrived after saying his goodbyes to his family. Dressed in
a pretty yellow blouse that tied under her breasts and tight white shorts, the
sight of her had him hiding the first signs of his arousal.

“Hi,” she smiled “What’s
that?” she pointed to him, waist level.

“Shit.” He thought, willing
his groin to behave before realising she was pointing to the sprinkler he had
picked up on the way over “Oh, it’s a lawn sprinkler,” he replied, relief
flooding through him “You won’t have to spend ages watering the grass anymore”

“Thank you.” She turned back
to her washing. “There’s a fresh pot of tea in the kitchen if you fancy a cup”
she called over her shoulder.

Declining her offer, he set
to work, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on the plants, stopping only to eat the
sandwich she provided and drink the ice cold glass of cola before setting back
to work.

“You don’t usually come on a
Saturday,” she was beside him, he had been so engrossed in planting that he
hadn’t heard her approach and jumped at the sound of her voice “Sorry, I didn’t
mean to startle you.” She touched his shoulder.

“My family has gone on
holiday; I have plenty of free time.”

“Why didn’t you go?” she
asked as she crouched beside him.

“Work.
I like to keep an eye on things.” He sat back on his
haunches not realising she was so close, his arm knocked her shoulder,
overbalancing her, she squealed as she began to topple. He reached out and
grabbed her arm, swiftly coming to his feet, dragging her with him, her hands flailed
and came to rest on his bare chest, by now he had hold of both of her arms,
they were face to face and he couldn’t help himself, he lowered his head, his
lips brushing hers.

“Don’t,” She breathed “I
thought we’d moved past this?” She couldn’t bring herself to move away,
silently begging him to kiss her again.