There. He absolutely could not refuse an offer like that. She didn’t know where she was going to find the time to paint it, but she’d shift things around, hold off on the rooms inside.
“It’s nice you feel confident, Grace. I appreciate the offer but I’m not looking to wrap some duct tape around the post and call it a day.” He gestured to the guys. “As you can see, I have plans for my place. I like pleasing aesthetics.”
If she didn’t need the coffee so bad, she’d be tempted to pour it on him. “First of all, I could fix this fence faster and better than any of these guys you’re paying. Second, do not talk down to me about how things look. If you were that concerned, your hedges would be out by now rather than having them look like misshapen sloped blobs.”
A guy in a backward baseball cap had started to approach but stopped when Grace’s voice rose.
Noah’s jaw tightened but he glanced toward the guy. “Sorry, Kyle. I just need a minute to resolve something with my neighbor.”
His attitude was fuel on her agitated fire. “No. We’re done. Take it or leave it. I can fix this myself and paint on my own schedule or you can forget me chipping in.”
He shook his head, lowering his arms so his hands rested on his hips. “I don’t think you want to go head-to-head like this.” He leaned in, his gaze animated. “You’re in over your head. There’s an easy fix to all of this. We forget about the fence if, say, you sell me your place at a tidy profit?”
She shoved the coffee at his chest. He stepped back with an “oof,” taking the cup.
“I’m not selling my house.” She whirled on Kyle, who looked incredibly uncomfortable. “Do you have some extra two-by-fours? A saw I could use? Whatever you’d use to fix this little break in the fence here? Could I borrow those items?”
Kyle’s gaze widened and he looked back and forth between her and Noah. She turned to Noah.
“Let’s make a deal. I’ll fix this my way. If Kyle thinks he or one of his guys could have done better, thinks I did a half-ass job, or that it looks like crap, you win. I’ll pay for half the fence painting and repair.”
Noah regarded her carefully. Kyle just looked like he wanted to run in the opposite direction.
“If,” she said, “it’s professional-looking enough that you can’t cry like a spoiled child about it, then we’re even. You paint it if you want but I’m not paying. Also, you stop asking about buying my house.”
She heaved out a breath, feeling like she’d run around her yard several times.
“I just wanted to run something by you,” Kyle said, his words stumbling over one another.
“What would you use to fix the fence here, Kyle?” Noah pointed.
The worker’s heavy sigh permeated the air. “Couple of two-by-fours cut to fit. Sander to smooth them out. Some primer, matching paint on those two slats. Might not be a perfect match but it’d be damn close.”
Noah nodded, held Grace’s gaze. “You fix it to my standards.”
“That’s not fair. You’ll just say it isn’t good enough to get your way.”
“Fine. You fix it to Kyle’s standards. If he says it’s as good as he could have done, I won’t ask for your half if I decide to paint the whole fence.”
Her chest was tight; her limbs were jittery. “What about my house? Will you stop asking to buy it?”
His smile snuck up on her with its charm. “Where’s the fun in that?” He held out a hand. “What do you say? Deal?”
Because she knew better than to shake without being sure, she clarified. “Kyle, you’ll be unbiased?”
The guy took off his hat, swiped his hair back, and readjusted it on his head. “I’m getting paid either way so yeah. Though I really did need to ask you something, Noah.”
But Noah didn’t respond. Grace grasped his hand, hating the spark that soared up her arm like a missile.
“We have a deal. I just need to change.”
7
Noah took stock of his emotions. Definitely a bit pissed off. Intrigued—was that an emotion? He couldn’t hide the impressed. Grace had a temper and going toe-to-toe with her made him feel almost energized. Which likely made him an ass. His mother had forced him and all of his siblings to do counseling when she’d divorced his father. In Noah’s opinion, feelings were better left undiscussed. Talking about them only muddled them up. But he couldn’t deny he was feeling myriad things when it came to his next-door neighbor.
After finishing up an email that laid out the agenda for his next SCI—Squishy Cat Industries—meeting with his brothers, he headed downstairs, checked out the progress on the wall between his kitchen and living room. Kyle was nowhere to be seen, and neither was the wall.
“Damn. That looks great,” Noah said, staring at the place where the wall used to be. See? He could do this. He didn’t need some expert telling him what looked best—though he still planned on seeing about design help. He’d walked into this room the first time and just felt like … he was holding his breath. Now, I can breathe. He loved the open concept.
“Pretty easy demo,” one of Kyle’s guys said. Josh should be there soon. He’d know everyone’s name.
“Great.” What else could he say? He went in search of Kyle, leaving the guys to finish cleaning up the debris of making his ideas come to life. Wes’s teasing about getting his hands dirty nagged at the back of his brain. What am I supposed to do? Offer to sweep up? I couldn’t take down the wall. Probably would have brought the house down. I’m paying these guys to do it and it’s not like overseeing the entire project isn’t work. He’d never been on-site for a job from beginning to end.
Kyle was pulling a block of wood off his saw setup. Noah wandered over. “Hey, you don’t mind letting my neighbor use a bit of wood for her attempt at proving a point?”
Kyle turned, set the wood down. “You underestimated her. She’s done.”
Noah’s head snapped up, turned in the direction of the fence. “What the hell?” He stalked over to see Grace standing up, brushing off her jeans. She pushed a pair of safety goggles up and onto her head.
“Hey, neighbor,” she said.
Noah glowered at her. He’d returned ten emails, made himself a sandwich, talked with the guys. She’d become a carpenter in that time? Who the hell was this woman?
“Who helped you?” He leaned in to inspect the work. The damage had been minimal. Really, he was just trying to nudge her over the cliff. He figured the money would appeal to her—money appealed to everyone. But no, she’d gone and issued a challenge and infused him with … what? Life? Energy? Indignation?
“No one helped me. Are you always like this?” She picked up a hammer and Noah stepped back, making her grin. “I’m not going to hit you with it no matter how irritating you are.”
His grin came out of nowhere. “Guess I should be thankful. I wouldn’t put it past you. So far, in our brief history, you’ve sent attack dogs after me, insulted my hedging skills, and broken my fence.”
A subtle pink glow lit up her cheeks, and something twisted in Noah’s chest. He ignored it because it wasn’t the focus here.
“Tequila and Lime are hardly attack dogs. They just wanted your paddle.”
He started to speak and she put up a hand, that shade of pink deepening. “Don’t. I heard it as I was saying it. Also, you have no hedging skills and your fence is now fixed by me.”
“So, you’re a dog walker, hedge expert, and carpenter?”
“I told you, I’m many things. But mostly, I’m an interior designer. I’m just about finished with my degree in design. But this?” She pointed at the fence. “That’s simple maintenance. It’s fixed. I’ll throw some paint on. Dion thinks he can match the shade.”
Noah looked around, then back at her. “Who’s Dion?”
When she shook her head, a pitying look in her gaze, his shoulders stiffened.
“He’s one of the men working for you. I think he’s inside right now.”
He did not like the way she was looking at him.
He hadn’t met every person here yet, so sue him.
“Hey, Grace, thanks for the recommendation. My wife got us reservations for tomorrow.” Kyle joined them, taking the hammer from Grace.
“Reservations for where?” Why did he feel like he’d stepped out of his own life for days?
“It’s Kyle’s anniversary. He wanted to suggest somewhere unique for dinner because his wife is a foodie. I was just telling him about a farm-to-table restaurant that cooks the food tableside.”
Noah’s head spun. She’d fixed his fence, made friends with his workers, and looked like she stepped out of a sexy reality television show about home renovations.
“So? Are we good? We can forgo you trying to gouge my bank account with your silly painting nonsense?”
Jesus Christ. I’ve dined with heads of state and this woman just called me silly. Where am I? Noah needed a run, a stiff drink, and ten minutes alone with this woman, without his staff peering over his shoulder, to talk her into just moving the hell away.
“Fine. We’re even.”
She tilted her head. “Not quite.”
“Excuse me?” He put his hands on his hips.
Kyle covered a laugh, poorly, and slipped away.
“I want a tour of your house. You can give me that in exchange for being a grumpy old man.”
He felt like steam might come out of his ears. “There are so many things wrong with what you just said. I’m thirty-three. Nowhere near old.”
“Is that a no?”
“Why do you want to see my house?”
“Because I love seeing different spaces and it looks like you’re doing a lot of work. Seeing the before and after is my favorite. Well, that and all the steps in between. I love seeing what something can become.”
She shrugged and Noah’s heart tugged. He felt like she’d just opened a little window to herself and slammed it shut as soon as she realized it.
“Never mind. I have to get going. I don’t mind painting these pieces but I have to do it later.”
“You can see my house.” He spat the words out like he had no control over his own speech.
“Yeah?” Her gaze lit up and he thought of deep, rich chocolate.
His stomach tightened with unfamiliar feelings. “Yeah. Just knock on my door when you have time.”
She grinned. “Come and knock on your door?” She sang the words.
He stared at her.
“Seriously?”
“What’s happening?”
“Theme song for Three’s Company?” She stared, her lips parting.
“Never seen it.”
Grace rolled her eyes. He was pretty sure he’d never had someone show so much exasperation with him in such a short period of time. “Don’t get out much, huh?”
“You don’t make any sense,” Noah said, unsure if that was a good thing or not. “Why aren’t you painting the fence now?” He didn’t mean to sound demanding and he actually didn’t care, but for some reason he sort of liked talking to her. Even when they were arguing.
“I have to go paint faces.”
The guys started cleaning up behind them after Kyle hollered that it was time to close down for the day. Machines stopped and he could just barely hear the waves rolling again. One of his favorite sounds.
“How many jobs do you have?”
Her smile lifted something inside of him that was equal parts interesting and annoying. “As many as it takes. But hopefully, one day soon, just one. You?”
He chuckled when he thought about it. “Just one I guess. But it’s varied. I buy, sell, renovate, and reconfigure buildings, companies, and corporations.”
She nodded, leaned against the fence she’d fixed, comfortable in her own skin. It was soft, sexy skin. Do not go there. Maybe he should ask Josh to set him up with someone.
“Ahh. That makes sense. I thought I smelled some sort of executive scent on you.”
He was pretty sure that was an insult. “I think that’s the scent of success.”
She pushed off the fence. “Everyone has a different definition of that word. See you later, Noah.”
She strode around the fence, once again leaving him staring after her and questioning himself.
8
Grace got into her vehicle and laid her head back against the seat with a very heavy sigh. Her best friend, Rosie, a fellow design student she’d met one day four years ago, did the same. Their moves were choreographed like synchronized swimmers’. Grace would have laughed but she was too tired.
“How can seven-year-old children be so exhausting?” Rosie asked.
Grace turned her head to see that her friend’s eyes were closed, her black curls surrounding her rounded cheeks. “There were just so many of them.”
“If I have kids, they’ll be allowed two friends max at a party,” Rosie vowed, opening her eyes but not lifting her head.
Grace, not having the same option, started her vehicle and backed out of the driveway, casting one last glance at her teacher/mentor/idol’s beautiful suburban home. Joanna Kern had it all: the career, supportive husband, beautiful home inside and out, and mostly human children. Okay, the kids should be cut some slack due to sugar highs and whatever child pheromones they had that made them ask so many questions.
“I want two I think but I’d really prefer they come several years apart,” Grace said, though the thought of being someone’s mother terrified her to her soul. She did not want to repeat Tammy’s mistakes, and it was a struggle every day just to get up and make sure she didn’t turn out anything like her mother in every other aspect of her life.
“I’m so glad you’re driving. Sorry if I fall asleep while you’re talking,” Rosie said around a yawn.
“That’s what he said,” Grace said on a weary laugh. Between getting woken up earlier than she wanted, the stress of dealing with her neighbor, and then the party, she was looking forward to a shower, cozy jammies, and a glass of wine. Maybe a home-reno show.
“Speaking of things he said, did your neighbor back off on the fence?” Rosie fiddled with the radio, bouncing around from station to station before landing on 96.2 SUN.
Grace had texted Rosie last night, upset about the idea of paying for the cost of the fence right after she’d sent an e-transfer to Tammy. “I fixed it today actually. Even he couldn’t complain about the job I did. He tried. I still have to paint the two slats I replaced but he’ll have to wait.”
“What an entitled jerk,” Rosie said.
Something in her tone told Grace there was more coming. She switched lanes so she could jump on the freeway that would take them back to Harlow Beach.
“Have you googled him?”
Grace snorted. “I try to get to know a guy before I do that.”
Rosie’s laugh filled the vehicle. It was loud and infectious. “I’d actually be okay with that if you did, in fact, let yourself get to know guys.”
This again. “I’ve told you, I’m not looking for flings. I want to find the guy that complements the life I’m building.”
“Despite your mom’s less than stellar example, you know you can date and even have sex without falling into a man’s clutches, right? You’re in control. It’s okay to have some fun before you find the one. In fact, it’s pretty hard to find the one without dating.”
“Did you have a point?” Grace took the exit, adjusting her hands on the wheel. She wanted one of those cars that drove themselves. Or a car service for when she was tired. Noah Jansen probably has a driver. And a butler. Probably doesn’t know either of their names.
Rosie dug through her purse, pulled out her phone. Grace saw her touch the screen from the corner of her eye.
“Noah Jansen of the New York Jansens, thirty-three, is an American real estate developer, socialite, and the son of business magnate Nathaniel Jansen. Jansen’s grandfather is best remembered for his contributions to a variety of New York City neighborhoods including the Wells Street Community Center in Harlem. Noah works for his father’s corporatio
n along with his two brothers. He’s been linked to several well-known women but remains single.”
“Pfft. Probably because of his attitude. He might have money but he thinks women can’t fix fences and that he can buy whatever he wants.”
“Dude is rich. And hot. You failed to mention that.”
“Did not,” Grace said, whipping her chin in her friend’s direction. “My first description of him was sexy, hot surfer dude.”
“Okay. That’s fair but you failed to follow up on that after saying he lived next door.”
“It’s not something I want to dwell on.”
Rosie put her phone away. “He’s likely not used to having anyone stand up to him.”
Grace agreed but only nodded. She couldn’t figure him out. He had a multitude of personalities, not all of which she liked, but there were hints of something underneath. Like a bedraggled cabinet, stuck in a corner, waiting for someone to put in the time and effort to peel back the layers, see what it once was or could be.
“Want me to come help paint this week?”
“I’d love some help but you have the same projects I do. I don’t want to take up your time. I appreciate you coming today. Especially once I got there. I thought those kids were going to take me out.”
Rosie’s laugh was interrupted by another yawn. “They were pretty excited to see the paint lady. I don’t mind. I want to see the house now that you’re in it. I want my stamp on it, too.”
Grace’s chest warmed. “You’re the best.”
“I’ve mentioned that before,” Rosie said.
Once she dropped her friend off at her apartment, Grace was itching to get home. She pulled into her driveway, surprised to see Noah outside, at the fence, on his knees. The sun was halfway to setting, casting gorgeous colors through the sky. Was he painting?
She got out of her vehicle, leaving her supplies in the back but grabbing her purse.
“Hey,” she said, approaching him. As soon as he looked up, she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. He had white paint across his probably very expensive T-shirt, on the underside of his jaw, all over his hands, and a bit on his jeans. She glanced at the fence. “Looks like you got some of that paint in the right place.”
How to Love Your Neighbor Page 5
