Rosie had at least texted, which only slightly made up for bailing.
Rosie
Oh. My. God. It’s hard to say which of them are hotter.
Girl. How are you going to live next door to him without drooling?
Josh asked for my number. We’re going out tomorrow.
Where are you?
Text me back, damn you. I want details. All the details.
She deleted the text she saw from Tammy without reading it. She’d reply to Rosie later. Right now, she needed to chill the hell out, because if she wasn’t careful, she’d end up developing a crush on her grumpy neighbor and he might have plans but Grace had plenty of her own. He wasn’t getting in the way.
When her phone buzzed again, she was setting up a second tarp along the wall with the window. She smiled, wondering if he’d call her a cheater or appreciate her cleverness.
He should be there any minute. She glanced at her phone again, wary of it being Tammy. Her mom didn’t seem to understand the whole connection between actions and consequences. Ignore your kid for most of her life, putting yourself first, your child becomes an adult who doesn’t want much to do with you.
It was Morty. She smiled at all the errors. Whenever he texted, he muttered and swore, cursing big thumbs and small gadgets.
Jus becuz you mooed don’t mean you cant call a duh
She pressed on his number. He answered on the first ring.
“You coulda texted me back,” he said instead of hello.
“I could have. But I wanted to hear your cheery voice.”
“Ha.” After a winded breath, he asked, “You doing okay?”
“Yes, just trying to decipher your text. I’m guessing you don’t think I moo and you meant to call yourself a guy?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Nothing. Just check your text when we hang up. How are you?”
“I’m alive.”
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile. “This would be a weird conversation if you weren’t.”
“Be better if you didn’t pretend I don’t exist anymore.”
“I’ve been gone under two weeks.”
“Tilly wants you to come for dinner.”
She turned her head when she heard the knock, watched Noah walk in carrying supplies.
“Tilly wants that?”
“What can I say. She likes you for some reason.”
Grace laughed. “I miss you, too. Tomorrow good?”
“Good as anything else. Not like our schedule is jam-packed. You need anything?”
Noah set his things down before looking around. His gaze brightened when it landed on Grace.
“Nope. I’m good. See you tomorrow.”
She hung up, watched Noah wander around her space. The house wasn’t large. It’d probably fit inside of his. But when she walked around, she could almost picture her grandparents living there. Christmases in this very living room, cooking breakfast in the kitchen. Tucking her mom in down the hall in a small bedroom across from their slightly larger one. Her mother never talked about growing up in a way that let Grace picture it. But being here, it was almost like she felt more connected to a life she’d never been allowed to know. One that included a family that might have loved her.
“Great bones but it needs a lot of work,” he said, slowly turning as she slid her phone into her pocket.
“Excuse me?”
He gestured to the living room. “The house. It’s got great bones. The original moldings, the hardwood floors. There’s a lot here. But there’s also a lot to do. You ever renovated a whole house?”
She arched her brow, thinking of all the differences between them. “No. Can’t say I have. This would be the first one I’ve ever owned. Lots of my classmates work fixing up places or doing construction but I’ve only ever ventured into the interior aspect. Doesn’t mean I can’t learn.”
“You are a very curious and capable woman.”
She beamed at him. “Thank you.”
He just laughed. The women he usually hung out with liked different compliments. “We’re doing the living room?”
The evening sunset was casting a glow through the uncurtained picture window. Dust motes danced in the soft rays.
“We are. We don’t have much in here because, like you, I plan on taking the wall out between the kitchen and living room.” She walked forward so he could see the galley-style kitchen that was far too narrow for her tastes.
He walked in, turned around. He was almost too big for the space. “This wall is all cabinets so you won’t have to worry about plumbing but what will you do for storage?”
She pointed to the wall beside the door that led to the back porch. “I’ll install cupboards along that wall.” She turned. “I’m going to put an island here to separate the spaces. I’ll be able to move the fridge to that wall, add more counter space there, and the island counter will have storage underneath.”
He nodded, a smile lifting one side of his lips. “Smart.” He walked through the doorway, back into the living room. “So, we aren’t painting this wall. Just that one, the front, and the bits on the side over there?”
She smiled at him, trying not to make it too obvious that she was about to play him hard. “You got it.”
With a frown, he put his hands on his hips. His loose board shorts could easily distract her, but she had her game face on now. At least externally.
“How are we going to race?”
She took a deep breath, smiling as she exhaled. “I measured and it turns out that this wall”—she pointed to the one with the window, the very large window—“and this one”—she pointed—“are the same size.”
There was a small window on the wall he’d paint that peeked out to the side yard between their homes.
His jaw dropped open and he stepped forward, making her tip her head back. “You’re going to cheat.”
She laughed, enjoying this more than she had anything else in a long while. “It’s not cheating to outmaneuver your opponent. Neighbor.”
“You’ll paint the one that’s mostly window and I get what equals about one and half times the wall space?”
Putting on a pretend sad face, she nodded, then made the mistake of patting him on the chest. Good lord. She could lose chunks of time running her hands over that chest. Pulling her hand back, she went to retrieve the stool from the hallway. When she came back, he was still scowling.
“If it makes you feel any better, I have the disadvantage of height. It’s going to be a lot harder for me to trim the edges and do it right.”
“Fine. Game on. When you lose, you’ll have no excuse.”
“If I win, you can’t claim it’s because of the window. The walls are the same size.”
His grin should have scared her with how it made fire dance in his gaze. Instead, all it did was spur her on. Mr. Money thought he could beat her at this? She had something, in this case, he didn’t—experience.
“Just remember, you started this.”
She couldn’t remember who’d started it but at the moment, she didn’t care.
They didn’t say go until the paint had been poured, they were each set up, and music was blasting through her Bluetooth.
Whether it was the feel of his gaze on her from time to time, the energy between them, the spirit of competition, or just the unsettling attraction she felt for him, Grace felt like she’d drunk a case of Red Bull with a Jolt Cola chaser.
Sweat dotted her neck where little hairs escaped from her bun. She heard him rolling, moving, whistling but stayed focused on her own wall.
She hated doing the edges, around the windows and outlets, but it was a necessary evil. Moving up and down the ladder was going to have her thighs screaming tomorrow; advantage him. Stupid tall people. She glanced out of the corner of her eye to see he was adding more paint to his tray. And … his wall was almost finished. What the actual hell?
“How did you?” She stopped to stare.
He hadn’t cut in anything. He’d taken the damn roller and covered most of the wall. He wasn’t sweating.
“How did I what?”
Sure, the rolling didn’t take long but cutting in was first. It was always first!
“You’re supposed to cut in the edges!”
His toothy grin made her stomach tumble. “Says who? My wall is almost done. I’ll get the edges. Don’t you worry.”
He would but it’d be supereasy because between the length of his arms and the extender on the paint roller, he had hardly any area to cover.
She turned back, refusing to give in. Grabbing a roller, she worked to beat him at his own game. Which would have worked better if she’d remained calm and cool. Collected. Instead, she rolled over the window ledge by accident and lost valuable time cleaning it up.
Even with her switching to his method, he was finished before her. He never said a word about being done, just moved on to the small fragments of wall that divided the routes to the hallway.
When she set the paintbrush down, pushing her hair out of her face with the back of her hand, she turned in a circle. She might have lost but her living room was painted.
“Looks good,” he said, his voice low as he all but stalked toward her. The heat in his gaze pushed everything else away. The challenge, the paint, the small room, and life in general.
“It does,” she agreed when he stopped right in front of her, so close the tips of their toes touched.
“You’ve got paint on your cheek.” He brushed his thumb over it but all she felt was the way the rough pad of it felt on her skin. His fingers curved around her neck, tilting it just enough that they were at the perfect angle.
“Is it gone?” Why the hell was she whispering?
“I have no idea,” he said, not breaking eye contact.
No. Nuh-uh. Just because he was sexy didn’t mean he could smooth … what? Gaze? Smooth-gaze her and she’d flutter her damn eyelashes. How had he beat her?
“You look mad,” he said. His lips remained flat but his eyes smiled. They might have even laughed.
“Not mad. A deal is a deal.” Really, she hadn’t lost anything. As far as bets went, this one wouldn’t make her lose any sleep. He could keep asking all he wanted. She’d just keep saying no.
Her breaths were more ragged than they should be and when Noah’s gaze landed on her mouth, a look of interest mingling with heat, she backed up.
“I’ll help you with your office.” Because it’s not an important room. Jerk.
They cleaned up in silence, working side by side. She was glad he didn’t gloat and sort of wondered if she would have. You so would have. But he didn’t, and even though he could be bristly about a lot of things, this earned her respect.
When she walked him to the door, he turned, hesitating in the threshold.
“That was fun.”
She let out a huff that could have been a laugh or a sigh. “Sure.”
“I’ll stop asking,” Noah said.
It took her a second but when she realized what he was saying, she was too surprised to comment.
“Night, Grace.”
She stared after him, wondering how long she’d have to live next door to him to actually understand Noah Jansen.
12
Noah waited in the back corner of Baked, a bakery run by a good friend of his brother’s girlfriend, Everly. Tara, the owner, was cute as hell, funny, and a Goddess with chocolate and flour. He looked over at her, smiling at something a customer said, wondering if he should ask her out. He needed to get out on a date, get his mind off business and this restless feeling spinning in his chest. Would also help with the weird pull you felt to your neighbor last night.
Grace was … nearly indescribable. In truth, he didn’t entirely know what to make of the woman. She was fierce and funny. She went toe-to-toe with him literally and figuratively. She had a temper that he apparently brought out, but he’d seen the softness, the wistfulness, and kindness in her actions and her eyes.
Last night, he’d been overwhelmingly attracted to her, and it scared the fuck out of him. He had end goals. He always had end goals.
“What’s got you looking so down on a gorgeous morning like this?” Chris asked, sliding into the chair across from him, a latte in hand.
Noah grinned at his younger brother. He’d missed him while he was in New York. All three brothers were close but he and Chris had another level of close. Mostly because their oldest brother was usually stuck in a virtual world and didn’t need to bounce things around verbally like they did.
“Just thinking I should ask Tara out. I haven’t been out much.”
Chris looked back at Tara like he was seeing her for the first time, then turned a hard glare on Noah. “No.”
Noah laughed. “Not sure I need permission, little brother.”
“Nope. You don’t. But she’s off-limits. No friends or relations of Everly or Stacey’s.” Stacey was Rob’s girlfriend as well as the DJ at the station they owned. Everly produced for her.
“Since when?”
“Since I want to marry this woman and don’t need my brother breaking the hearts of the few friends she has.”
Everly was painfully shy. Once a person got to know her, she was awesome, funny, and witty. But it took time. Noah wouldn’t ever do something to upset her on purpose. But his brother’s words grated on his already unsteady nerves.
“Noted. Not good enough for anyone Everly knows.”
“I didn’t say that,” Chris said, taking a sip of his coffee.
He didn’t say it but he didn’t not say it either.
“How’s the reno? You find a designer?”
There’s one next door who keeps getting under my skin. “No. Josh has some meetings scheduled for next week. The living area and kitchen are now one great room. We want to get the big stuff done first before we start the surface finishes.”
“How’s it going with the neighbor?”
Why did thinking about her make his skin feel too tight? “I’ve been approaching her wrong. I realized that last night.”
Chris leaned back in his chair, as at ease in his suit and tie as Noah was even though he’d opted for a more casual look today. He was heading to the rec center after coffee.
“How so? What was last night?”
Noah described the strange evening to his brother. “She thinks she’s ready to take on all that house needs. She’s going to get halfway in and realize she’s over her head. I need to let her do that then swoop in with an offer that’ll feel like a lifeline.”
Chris stared at him, tapping his index finger against the side of his cup.
Noah shifted. His own cup was empty. “What?”
“You painted with this woman?” Chris’s lips twitched. “Rob says you’re playing basketball with him and some kids.”
“So?”
“You painted. Played with kids. Who are you?”
Noah huffed. “Yeah. I painted. That’s what you do when you want something a different color. And what the hell? I like kids. I like basketball. What’s your problem?”
Chris took a sip. “No problem. Just surprised. You’re really doing shit on this one. Like rolling up your sleeves, fixing fences, painting walls.”
He bit down on his frustration. “I’m going to live there. Yes, I’m getting involved.”
To his credit, his brother leaned back, eased off, giving Noah a few minutes to breathe through his frustration.
When Chris leaned forward, he met Noah’s gaze squarely. “You don’t need a pool, man. Why are you making such a big deal of it? The ocean is literally at your back porch.”
Why was it so important to him? There were his summer memories with his brothers and grandparents. “It’s such a simple acquisition. She’s being stubborn.”
Chris laughed. “So, your business ego is bruised because someone said no? Is that a first?”
Noah stiffened, the cup in his hand scrunching a bit in his grasp. “You know what?
I’m tired of everyone saying shit like that. I work damn hard, I’ve had plenty of losses professionally and personally. Just because I was the face of Dad’s company and look good in a fucking magazine doesn’t mean everything has been easy.”
Chris’s gaze widened. He leaned in, pushed his drink away and rested his forearms on the table. Someone laughed loudly as a few more people shuffled into the bakery.
“Where’d that come from?”
Noah grunted. “Gee, I wonder. You know how many times it’s been alluded to in the last couple weeks that I don’t commit, I’m not serious, or I’m not invested? More times than I can count. I lost out on three deals last month. Every one of them should have been mine. Two of them came right out and said they wanted Dad’s name on the deal. The other one was quieter about it but I know that’s what they were waiting for, too.”
Nodding like he understood, Chris said, “Okay. Sorry. It’s a tougher transition than you thought it’d be but come on, you’re a third owner with us, you have the house, will probably have the house beside it because you’re bullheaded, you’ve got the office buildings downtown, with full rental income. What’s going to be enough? What’s it going to take for you to feel successful?”
Damn. He almost wanted to punch his brother for getting to the heart of the restless spinning. What the hell was it going to take to make him feel good enough?
“Maybe that’s something I should figure out. I gotta go.” He stood, needing the fresh air, the space.
Chris stood as well, clapped him on the shoulder. “Hey. I’m here. I wasn’t trying to piss you off. I know it’s hard to get out from under Dad’s foot. But you’re doing it. So what if a few deals didn’t pan out. Let’s do dinner. Forget about business for a bit.”
Noah nodded as they waved to Tara and walked out together. “That sounds good. Sorry I snapped.”
“I get it, man. You know I do.” Chris held his gaze. Sometimes Noah felt like he was the older one. “Right?”
Noah nodded again, gave him a one-armed hug, then shoved him just because he felt like it. Chris laughed. “You’re such an ass.”
“Takes one to know one.”
How to Love Your Neighbor Page 8
