Cougars Know Best

Chapter 13

The neighborhood was quiet when I pulled up to the Jacobs' house. I grabbed the small cooler I'd brought along and walked up the steps, knocking on their front door.

After a few seconds, it opened and there she was. Liz looked surprised to see me, dressed in a light top and a pair of shorts that showed off her tan legs.

"Zack," she said, blinking. "You're here so early. Stacy thought you'd be by around noon."

I gave a small shrug. "I told her to let me know how early I could come over, but since no one gave me a time, I figured I'd just start as early as seemed reasonable. Hopefully it's late enough I won't wake the neighbors with the mower."

Her expression softened into a smile. "Well, aren't you considerate. Come in, I'll show you where everything is."

I followed her through the entryway, watching the sway of her hips as we went. She led me to the garage, flipping on the light and pointing to the mower tucked beside a rack of gardening tools.

"There it is. Gas can's right next to it," she said, leaning against a shelving rack. "Stacy's out with her girlfriends, but she'll probably be back in a few hours. If you need anything before then, just let me know."

"Got it," I said, meeting her eyes for a second longer than I probably should have.

She gave a small nod and a smile before hitting the button to open the garage door and turning back toward the kitchen, leaving me to get started. I took a breath, hands braced on the mower handle, and smiled to myself. Saturday had only just started.

I wheeled the mower out onto the driveway, seeing the early sun still low enough to cast a soft light across the quiet street. There was a cool breeze, carrying that faint mix of dew and the ocean, that I was about to blend in with fresh cut grass.

By the time I got the mower running, I'd started to push aside the image of Liz's shapely tan legs, sticking out of her shorts, and was focused on the task at hand. I moved through the yard, cutting out each line of grass methodically, letting the pattern draw my attention. Every so often, I caught sight of her through a window, passing by with a mug in her hand, or standing near the sink, talking on her phone. I tried not to stare, but it was hard not to notice the way her top clung when she leaned forward, or how she'd absentmindedly fluff her full blonde hair with her hand before walking away again. Eventually the brightness outside, and the direction of the sun, started to make it hard to see through the window.

About halfway through the lawn, I killed the engine and wiped the sweat from my forehead. The sun had climbed higher, and I could already feel it warming my shoulders. I walked away from the mower to grab a drink from the cooler I'd brought, and when I looked up, the back door opened.

"Working hard already?" Liz called out, stepping barefoot onto the patio. She had her mug in one hand and a faint smile on her lips.

"Well, I got the front yard done already. So I think I'm going at a pretty decent pace," I said, taking a long sip from my bottle of water.

She laughed quietly. "Well, you're definitely making progress. Want something more than just water? I can make lemonade."

I hesitated, wiping my hand on my shorts. "That'd be great, actually. Thanks."

She nodded and disappeared inside again. I took a seat on the low brick wall near some flowerbeds, feeling the warmth seep through the back of my shirt. When she came back out, she was carrying two glasses of lemonade beaded with condensation, and she handed me one before sitting a few feet away.

"You didn't have to do that. I really appreciate it," I said.

"I wanted to," she replied, watching me over the rim of her glass as she took a drink. "Seeing you out here, reminds me of when Stacy's dad used to do the yard himself. He'd complain the whole time, but he always liked how it looked after."

I smiled. "Guess it's one of those things that's more satisfying when it's over," I said, nodding and looking at the fresh cut section I could see.

"Exactly." She turned slightly toward me, her legs crossed at the knee. The movement drew my attention whether I wanted it to or not. "So," she asked, "why on Earth would you get up so early to come do this on a Saturday? Most guys your age would be sleeping in."

I shrugged, meeting her eyes again. "Facts. I like being helpful, I guess, and it seemed like a good idea to get it done before it gets way too hot. Plus, it's not a bad excuse to get some sun."

Her eyes flicked toward my bare arms, then back to my face. "You'll get plenty of that today," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

For a moment, we just sat there, listening to the cicadas in the distance. Then she leaned back in her chair, tilting her face toward the light.

"You can take a break whenever you want," she said softly. "No rush. It's too nice a morning to spend it all on work."

I nodded, but my mind was already spinning with the fantasy that maybe she didn't just mean the yard. Liz shifted, turning her face upward and letting her eyes close as she took in the sun.

While she wasn't looking, I let my eyes wander over her legs stretched out in front of her, showing off how tanned and smooth they were, below the hem of her shorts that rode high on her thighs. The light fabric of her top draped over her breasts, emphasizing how soft they looked, catching the breeze as she leaned back in her chair. Even with her eyes closed, she looked relaxed, just completely at ease, and somehow that only made it harder to look away.

Liz opened her eyes again and glanced back at me, with a faint, knowing look as if she could feel the attention without ever seeing it.

"So tell me," she said, watching me closely, "you always this responsible, or do I just bring out your best behavior?"

I smirked, taking another sip of lemonade. "Guess I try to make a good impression. Don't want Stacy's mom thinking I'm lazy. Plus, I'm used to helping out my sister with whatever I can."

"Ha. Stacy's mom," she said with one short laugh and rolling her eyes. "So, you're worried about my opinion," she teased, recrossing her legs, switching one leg over the other. The motion drew my attention again, her tanned skin catching the sunlight, making it hard to look away. "That's cute, Zack."

I tried to play it off with a shrug. "I mean, if you're gonna ask me to come cut it, and I'm gonna wake up your neighbors with a mower, I should at least earn some points."

She laughed quietly, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. "Trust me, you didn't wake the neighbors. I'd bet anything, everyone around here's already up. As for earning brownie points, you are throwing off my usual Saturday routine of coffee and a quiet house. It's my favorite kind of morning, when Stacy takes off early."

"Before the chaos of her and her friends?" I asked.

"Exactly." She smiled, looking directly at me. "You're the only thing interrupting it right now."

"Guess I'll have to apologize, then."

"Don't," she said, narrowing her eyes slightly in amusement. "There's nothing wrong with a little disruption every now and then. Can make things interesting."

Her words rattled around in my imagination for a few seconds. I could feel the blood start to rush toward my groin again, the way it always seemed to when she looked at me. I finished off the last of my lemonade, trying not to stare at the bead of condensation sliding down her glass and across her fingers, imagining something else running over them.

"Well," I said clearing my throat and setting my glass aside, "if I don't finish before noon, I'm gonna melt out here."

Liz tilted her head. "You're right, it's only getting hotter." Her lips curved into a knowing smile. "Better get back to it before you start using that as an excuse to take your shirt off."

I grinned, standing up. "Guess I'll save that for later, if you need me to trim the hedges."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smirk. "Go on, before you get yourself in trouble."

I grabbed the mower handle again, but as I turned away, I could still feel her eyes on me, following me out into the sun.

"I'll be inside if you need anything," she finished, gathering our glasses before disappearing through the patio door.

Once she was gone, I exhaled slowly, trying to shake off the excitement that had started in my chest. The air already felt hotter, making the sweat come that much faster, and after a few more passes across the yard, I tugged off my shirt and draped it over the handle of the mower. The cotton was damp with sweat, but would hopefully dry in this heat by the time I was done.

I kept working, drawing out my lines in neat rows. The mower rumbled beneath my grip, causing my hands to vibrate, but my thoughts were everywhere else. Every time I passed by the kitchen window, I wondered if she might be looking out again. The idea alone was enough to make me roll my shoulders a little tighter, to flex when I turned, pushing the machine just a bit slower, aware of every movement.

By the time I reached the back yard, the sun was fully beating down on me. My skin glistened with sweat, and my shoulders felt like they were cooking. I parked the mower near the patio and leaned over the edge of the pool, scooping up handfuls of the cool water and splashing it over my chest and neck. The shock of it made me gasp, but it felt good.

"Guess I don't have to ask if you're hot," came a voice from the shade of the covered patio.

I turned to see Liz stepping outside again, with a faint smile on her lips and a glass of ice water in hand. "You look like you're about to melt," she added.

I ran a hand through my damp hair and laughed lightly. "Yeah, it feels like it."

She tilted her head, studying me for a second longer than felt casual. "Why don't you come in for a bit? The air conditioning's on, and there's more lemonade. You can cool off before you finish the rest."

I hesitated, glancing back toward the mower, then at her. Her tone was inviting and it made my pulse jump again, causing me to abandon the concern about cleaning up behind myself, or grabbing my shirt where it hung from the handlebar on the mower.

"Sure," I said finally. "A quick break won't hurt before I put the mower away."

"Didn't think you'd argue," she said, stepping aside to hold the door open for me.

I followed her in, the cool air washing over my skin as I closed the door behind us.

Chapter 14

I dropped onto the edge of the couch, grateful for the rush of cold air coming from the vent above. The leather felt cool at first, but it quickly slipped against my bare back, and I realized how much sweat was still clinging to me.

Liz glanced over from the kitchen island, one eyebrow raised. "Uh-uh, up. You're gonna ruin my couch," she said, half teasing, half serious.

I froze mid-lean, not sure if she was joking. "Oh- uh, sorry. I didn't mean to-"

She smiled, shaking her head. "Relax, I'm kidding. Sort of." She grabbed a small towel from a drawer, ran it under the sink, and wrung it out before walking over. "Here. At least wipe off before you stink up my furniture."

"Thanks," I said, taking it from her. The towel was cool and damp, and the moment it touched my skin, it felt incredible.

She hovered for a moment, arms folded loosely as she watched me swipe it across my chest and shoulders. "I would've offered the pool, you know," she said casually. "Though I don't usually let anyone in there wearing regular clothes. The fabric clogs the filter."

I looked up at her, confused, and she smiled. "So unless you've got a bathing suit in your car, or you're ready to jump in in the buff, guess the towel will have to do," she continued with a wink and a teasing smirk.

I felt my face instantly go warm. "Yeah, guess I'll have to stick with the towel," I said quickly, trying to sound casual.

She laughed softly, clearly amused at how easily she'd gotten a reaction. "Figured as much. Such a shame," she pressed on, laughing.

I ran the towel over my neck, then turned slightly, trying to reach between my shoulder blades. It was awkward, the fabric slipping through my hands as I twisted my arms back. I must've looked ridiculous because she ended up shaking her head while watching me.

"Here," she said, stepping closer. "You're going to pull a muscle like that."

Before I could protest, she took the towel from my hands and moved behind the couch. The first touch of the cloth across my back made me shiver. Her strokes were forceful, following the curve of my shoulders and down along my spine.

"You really worked up a sweat out there," she said a little softer, close enough that I almost thought I could feel her breath where she wiped.

"Yeah, it didn't take long to heat up out there, for sure," I managed.

"Mm. Nothing wrong with a man who'll work till the jobs done, though."

Her tone had changed, and while it was still playful, it almost sounded a little wistful. She wiped along the back of my neck, grazing my skin with her fingers as she adjusted her hold on the towel. The contact felt accidental, but the contrast of her soft fingertips compared to the coarse towel sent a jolt through me.

I swallowed hard, trying not to turn around aware of how close she was. The air-conditioning was doing its job cooling me off, and I could hear the faint sound of her breathing just over my shoulder.

"Better?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," I said, though it came out a bit scratchy. "A lot better."

"Good." She handed me back the towel, but she didn't step around right away. Her hand brushed my shoulder one more time before she headed toward the kitchen.

"Let me grab that lemonade for you," she said over her shoulder. "I'll be just a second."

I nodded, listening to her steps retreat, quickly using the towel to scrub any possible stink and sweat from my armpits, hoping I didn't stink up the towel.

"Speaking of cold drinks," I started, "whatever happened to that beer you took from me at the party?"

Liz's laugh floated from the kitchen. "I still can't believe you even brought a six-pack," she said. "Who at your age shows up to a house party full of parents with that kind of confidence?"

I rubbed the back of my neck, staring down at my feet. "Yeah, that might've been a little stupid," I admitted, thankful she couldn't see the color I could feel creeping into my face.

She came back a moment later, handing me the fresh glass of lemonade. "It's still in the fridge in the garage, by the way. Beer's never really been my thing." She sat across from me, tucking one leg beneath her. "How'd you even get it, anyway?"

I shrugged, taking a sip. "From my fridge at home."

Her brows lifted. "So you just... stole it?"

"Borrowed," I said, half-smiling. "It'd been sitting there for a while, so it's not like anyone was gonna miss it."

"Your parents didn't notice?" she asked, tilting her head.

I hesitated, staring into the glass for a moment before answering. "They would've, yeah. But they're not around anymore."

"What do you mean?" she asked

I bobbed my head side to side, forcing a small smile. "We lost them a couple years ago. Car accident." I took another drink to cover the awkward lump in my throat. "My older sister's been taking care of me since."

Her expression softened instantly. "Oh, Zack. I'm sorry. That's a lot for both of you," she said quietly. "You must've had to grow up fast."

"It's okay, and yeah, I guess so," I said. "She tries to play it cool, but she's basically been mom ever since. That's why I tend to try and be helpful. She could've just as easily said she couldn't take on trying to support me, and who knows where I would've ended up. We don't have a whole lot of family other than an aunt we barely know. But no matter what she was feeling, or going through, she immediately did whatever she needed to, to keep us together."

Liz sighed, leaning back in her chair. "Then I should probably give you those beers back. Sounds like she could use them more than I could."

That got a small laugh out of me. "Yeah, she might actually appreciate that."

"Well," she said, smiling again, "if she's anything like you, I'll bet she's stubborn and impossible to argue with."

"Something like that," I said.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. Liz's gaze lingered on me as though she were sizing me up.

"I didn't know that about you," she said quietly. "Stacy never mentioned it, but she's pretty good about not sharing other people's business. And you seem so... easygoing. I wouldn't have guessed."

"Most people don't," I said. "It's easier not to talk about it. And going with the flow raises a lot less questions than getting mad about everything I don't like, or agree with."

She nodded in understanding, her expression thoughtful. "Well, you're welcome here anytime, you know," she said after a pause. "Even when there's no lawn to mow."

I smiled at that, meeting her eyes. "I just might take you up on that."

"Somehow," she said, standing to grab the towel I'd set on the arm of the couch, "I think you probably will."

Liz gave me a half smile before heading toward the hall, where the laundry room was. I watched as she bent slightly to open the door, and toss it into the washer, the hem of her shorts lifting and pulling tight. The fabric clung tight across her hips and ass, the outline leaving no signs of anything underneath. I swallowed and looked away too late, to keep the image from being burned into my mind.

She straightened and turned back, her expression a little more serious. "Now, while I meant what I said about you being welcome here," she started, walking back toward me, "if you're going to be spending time with Stacy, I expect you to use a little more sense than you did with that beer stunt."

I blinked, caught off guard by the shift. "Oh, yeah. Of course."

"I'm serious," she said, pausing near the entryway to the hall. "I'm going to be out of town for the next week, and the last thing I want is to come home to a knocked-up daughter because neither of you had the brain cells to be careful."

The bluntness made my face go hot. I nodded quickly, trying to look as earnest as I could. "No, no- definitely not. I'd never be that dumb. And we're not even... y'know... actually dating or anything."

Her brows lifted as a look of surprise crossed her face. "So what you're telling me is, you're just sleeping with my daughter for fun? Planning to leave her high and dry when you get bored?"

"Wait- no, that's not what I meant," I said quickly, tripping over my words as she started to grin. "I would never-"

"Relax," she interrupted, laughing as she waved a hand. "I'm kidding. You really do need to learn how to loosen up if you're going to keep hanging around here."

I exhaled, rubbing a hand over my face like I could push the constant color back out of my cheeks. "You almost gave me a heart attack."

"Good. Hopefully it'll keep you honest." She turned slightly, giving me that same teasing look that always seemed to leave me off balance. "Besides," she added with a wink, "Stacy could've done far worse in picking up a boy toy."

My jaw nearly dropped, but before I could figure out how to respond, she was already halfway to the kitchen again, humming under her breath like what she said was a perfectly normal thing to say to your daughter's... friend.

I sat there for a few seconds, stunned, trying to decide if I'd actually heard her right. The wordsboy toykept echoing in my head, and the way she'd said it without hesitation, made it sound like a dare to my eighteen-year-old brain.

When she came back into the living room, still humming quietly, I found my voice again. "You know," I said carefully, "you're setting the bar kind of high for her. Most guys would probably just end up disappointed if they met you first."