The Foster Family Read Online Free PDF Page B

onto my cheek.
    “Why does it fucking matter?” I ground my teeth, swiped at my face, and shoved the plant into the bigger pot. “They did me a goddamn fucking favor. Lightened the load. And what else can they do? They already destroyed every fucking thing I owned.”
    She patted my hand. “I know, sweetie. It sucks.”
    The teeth-grinding at least helped me to hold back the hysterical laughter. “Fucking right it does,” I muttered.
    “Still swearing, I see.”
    The rumbling male voice crawled up my spine and I shivered as I turned around.
    “Malcolm.”
    He smiled. Oh boy, did he smile, right at me, and the hairs on the back of my neck lifted. “Hi, Kerry.”
    “Wha-what are you doing here?”
    Rather than responding, he reached over and rubbed my cheek where the blot of earth had landed. “You do get into your work, don’t you?” His gaze traveled down my front, and I was hyperaware of the spots of soil trickling down my white T-shirt.
    I couldn’t stop myself from shooting a damning look at Lissa.
    She grinned at me over her shoulder as she walked away, disappearing toward the smaller, weatherproof enclosure where the cash register was.
    “It’s been a busy day, I guess,” I said, plucking at the shirt and leaving behind only more black smudges from my gloves.
    “You’re not sure?” He lifted both eyebrows and peered at me over his sunglasses.
    “It’s been a day from hell, okay? Did you come to bother me, or are you here to buy something?”
    He placed a bag on the counter between us and smiled. “I came to bring you your things.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he stood back, and I felt like one of the bugs Lissa and I might find and begin to pick apart to figure out what it was. He didn’t need tweezers. He had that glare.
    “Thank you.” I pulled the bag a few inches closer and dropped my gaze.
    “Better,” he said softly, and dammit if that gentle mixture of praise and admonishment didn’t twist everything inside me into unexpected knots. “Here. We found these in a tidal pool this morning on our jog. I think they’re pretty much finished.”
    He placed my ruined phone and salt-encrusted wallet next to the bag.
    It was all I could do not to grab at the scraps of cowhide and pry the stiff leather open to see if there was any cash left inside.
    As if reading my mind, he shook his head. “Nothing in the wallet. We checked.”
    I shrugged and wrapped my arms around my middle. Not much protection from the hollowed-out space already inside. “There wasn’t much in it in the first place,” I muttered.
    He had one more item for me, though. My driver’s license snapped against the counter as he set it down. It had been defaced, my image obviously very deliberately scratched over. One more thing to add to the list of things I couldn’t afford to replace.
    “Is everything okay?” he asked. His tone hadn’t changed from that warm, low baritone, and I glanced up.
    “Fine.” I touched a finger to the ID and twirled it around a bit, wondering who hated me that much.
    Silence settled between us for a few minutes.
    “Okay,” he said at last. “No reason you should tell me. You don’t know me.”
    I glanced up into his gentle smile. “Thanks for my things.”
    “Well, I am here to shop too. Do you have time?”
    “Of course!” I hurried out from behind the counter. “What are you looking for, exactly?” Because helping people shop for their gardens I could do and do well.
    “Actually, I’m looking for something for the beds at the front of the house.”
    “Oh.” I glanced around, but he seemed to be alone. “I thought Charles was the gardener.”
    “He is. But his boss has been on a tear all week, and it’s tough for him to find time to plant, so I thought I would at least see if I could take care of the purchases for him.”
    “It’s almost past time for spring planting, actually,” I told him. “Depending when you want blooms, anyway. What are the light levels like?