by Barbara Gee
***
A few hours later the pink walls were history, and I was feeling pretty proud of my paint job so far. I washed out my roller and brush and went out the back door to put them on the deck to dry. While I was out there I decided to go to the little shed at the back corner of the property and see what all was in there. I knew Grandma had been paying a lawn service to take care of all her landscaping needs for the last five years or so, but back in the day she’d enjoyed planting bed after bed of the most beautiful flowers. There were still a lot of perennials around the property, and I hoped to be able to keep them weeded and growing. It would help me feel a little closer to her.
I was halfway to the shed when a furious spate of barking sounded from the other side of the property line fence to my left. I stopped instantly, knowing it had to be the little black dachshund I’d seen out the window the day before.
That realization sparked another, and I was suddenly desperate to get out of the vicinity before the dog’s owner put in an appearance. Just the thought of meeting the man whose backside I’d so admired made my face burn. I spun around and hurried toward my deck, getting to within a few yards when I heard a door slam.
It was an involuntary instinct to look in the direction of the sound, and I felt my eyes widen when my gaze landed on the profile of a man. I could only see him from the chest up due to the fence, but I was sure it was the same guy I’d seen yesterday. And judging from the side view, he was just as handsome as I’d expected.
Oh, Grandma—why didn’t you put in a taller fence??
I really, really needed to get into my house without being seen. I wanted to be cool and collected when I met my new neighbors, not taken by surprise in my paint-spattered shorts and tee. And I strongly preferred that the man’s wife be around when the introductions took place.
I swallowed hard and closed my eyes, still standing stock-still. He could look over here at any second, but as long as I didn't make any sudden moves that grabbed his attention away from his wound-up wiener dog, I had a chance at making it to the door and slipping inside without being noticed.
I looked straight ahead and carefully put one foot in front of the other. I estimated I had three more steps to the deck, then about five across the wood to the sanctuary of my back door. Keep barking, doggie. Keep barking.
Two steps later…
“Hey there. Are you in that house legally?” The smooth, low-pitched voice caused me to freeze mid-step. “You’re not a squatter, are you?”
I slowly turned my head and found myself staring right at him. He’d moved, and now he was leaning against the chest-high fence, elbows hanging over, gazing at me speculatively. And, yes, his face was every bit as attractive as his backside.
Of course it was. Geez, where was this guy’s wife, anyway? She shouldn’t let this man out of her sight.
“I haven’t heard about anyone moving into that house,” he said when I just stood there blinking at him from across the yard.
As his words registered, I frowned in disbelief. “So you assume I must be a squatter?”
He gave a slow shrug, drawing my attention to his wide shoulders for a moment. “Just making sure. I’ve heard a lot of strange stories about people taking up residence in abandoned houses.”
I tossed my head, trying to get past his stunning appearance. “I’m not squatting. This is my house. Gwendolyn Milton was my grandmother, and she left it to me.”
He was too far away for me to be able to see the color of his eyes, but I saw them narrow. “So, are you moving in? Or just getting it ready to sell?”
“I’m moving in.” I pivoted to face him. “Is this our official ‘howdy, neighbor’ moment? Or should we wait until your wife can join the introductions?”
He smiled. “Could be a long wait.”
I folded my arms and tried not to be distracted by that slow smile. “Is she still at work?” I asked. It was after five, but maybe she had a long commute.
“Nope.”
Before he could say more, his back patio doors opened again. He turned his head and then gave a nonchalant wave to the man who had emerged.
“Hey, Chase. You’re home early.” He pointed toward a tree in the far corner of his yard. “The little busybody is over there. She heard your new neighbor and barked until I came out to investigate.”
The new man looked over his shoulder at the now-silent dog, then began walking toward the fence, a friendly smile on his face.
I tried not to look confused. If this guy was my neighbor, who was the first guy?
“Hi, I’m Chase Owens. You must be Gwen’s granddaughter. Ava, right?” Chase asked when he reached the fence. When I confirmed it, he nodded. “She told me she was leaving you the house. Are you really moving in?”
I gave up trying to figure out the situation and decided it was time to be sociable, whether I felt like it or not. I didn’t want to get put into the bad-neighbor category right off the bat. Or have word get around that I was stuck up. I only wished the first guy hadn’t thrown me off my game by being so attractive. If I hadn’t been so embarrassed about the ogling that had taken place yesterday, I would’ve immediately crossed the lawn to introduce myself, confident and smooth, just like my sisters had taught me.
Instead I’d been caught trying to slink back into my house without being seen. A far cry from smooth.
I walked determinedly over to the fence. Ignoring the first man, I stuck my right hand up to shake with Chase. “It’s nice to meet you, Chase. Yes, I’m moving in. I’ve always loved Hidden Creek, and since I have the house now, I decided to try living here. I’m looking forward to the change.”
He shook my hand. “Well then, welcome to the neighborhood, such as it is,” he said. “There are only seven houses out here at this end of the road, but we’re a friendly bunch.” He caught himself and grinned. “But I guess you probably already know that. I think I remember Gwen saying you’ve been a frequent visitor.”
“Yeah, I used to know everyone out here,” I told him, “but from what I’ve heard, Maisie isn’t the only one who sold and moved to the retirement village.”
“No, she isn’t. There are two more, the Nelsons and the Hobarths. One house is being rented, and the other is for sale.” He grinned. “My wife, Hannah, will be thrilled to know you’re moving in. Especially since you’re under seventy. She’s not home right now, otherwise I’d get her to come out.”
“I look forward to meeting her.”
Another voice cut in—from the man I’d been trying not to look at. To make things worse, it held a definite trace of humor, like he was chuckling inside at my expense.
“Hi, Ava. I’m Jude Keller.” He jerked his chin in Chase’s direction. “This guy’s cousin.”
I gave him a stiff smile. “Nice to meet you,” I said politely.
His eyes, the shade of faded denim jeans, twinkled as he reached his hand over the fence to get a shake like the one I’d given Chase.
I fought a feeling of panic as I realized I was going to have to touch him. I couldn’t explain the reaction—an innocent handshake shouldn’t be a big deal. But with this guy, any kind of contact seemed daunting.
I bit the inside of my bottom lip as I lifted my hand to his. I had every intention of pulling away after the briefest of touches, but when his strong, calloused fingers wrapped around mine, I completely forgot the plan. My gaze locked with his, and for a split second, I thought I saw a reflection of the same surprise I was feeling myself.
“Welcome to Hidden Creek,” he said, his voice a little softer than before, his eyes narrowing slightly. “I hope you’ll enjoy it here.”
I felt positively breathless. What in the world was wrong with me? Yeah, he was cute, crazy cute, but my reaction was totally over the top. Plus, just because he wasn’t my married neighbor didn’t mean he wasn’t married.
Too bad his left hand was now on the other side of the fence and I couldn’t check for a ring.
Chase cleared his throat and the soun
d brought me out of my daze. I tugged my hand away from Jude’s and put it behind my back, making a fist as if I thought that would help me hold on to the feel of his skin against mine a little longer.
Wait, what? Okay, now I really needed to see his left hand, because my reaction was all kinds of inappropriate if this man was taken.
“Jude is staying with Hannah and me while his own place is being renovated,” Chase said, grinning at Jude before he looked back at me. “In return, we make him take care of our dog, Lulu. He’s getting pretty attached. I predict she’ll be sleeping on his bed by the time he leaves.”
“Not a chance,” Jude said evenly, his gaze still on me. “Are you going to be looking for work in the area?” he asked.
I shook my head and then dropped my eyes because the man was simply too potent for me. I needed time to recover.
“I do freelance computer work,” I said. “I work from home, so it doesn’t matter where I live.”
“What kind of computer work?” he asked, sounding genuinely interested.
“Websites and stuff,” I said, sticking with my standard answer. “Sometimes I do software customization. I like variety.”
When he didn’t reply right away I risked another glance at him. His head was tilted slightly, his eyes unreadable.
“You don’t look like a computer geek,” he stated.
Oh geez, like I’d never heard that before. “Yeah, well, your stereotype is a little outdated,” I replied, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. “We aren’t all greasy and overweight. Most geeks look and act just like anyone else.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I suppose they do. Sorry.”
Chase chuckled. “What he’s trying to say is that he thinks you’re way too pretty to sit alone in front of a computer all day.”
Jude glanced over at the other man, looking a little irritated. “You a mind reader now, cuz?” he asked, raising his brows.
“I can read yours pretty well,” Chase said, nonplussed. He turned his attention back to me. “Do you need any help with the moving? I assume you have a truck coming?”
“Day after tomorrow. But movers come with the truck, so I’m good. All I have to do is tell them where to put stuff.” I didn’t mention that another truck would arrive two days after the first, because I definitely didn’t want any help—or curious neighbors—when my impressive stash of computer equipment arrived.
“Well, just holler if you need anything,” Chase said. “A cup of sugar, a screwdriver—whatever. I’ll be sure to tell Hannah to stop over and get acquainted soon.”
“I’d love that,” I said, and I meant it….as long as her husband’s cousin didn’t tag along and get me all flustered again. “I guess I’ll see you guys around.”
They both said, “Bye, Ava,” at exactly the same time, making me chuckle as I walked back toward my house and gratefully slipped inside.
I was glad to finally escape, but even when I was alone again I couldn’t stop thinking about Jude Keller. I was amazed at how quickly he’d gotten under my skin, and I wasn’t sure what that meant. Was I actually interested in him, or merely blown away by his good looks?
I rooted in a cupboard for some cleaning supplies, deciding to scrub the half bath down the hall across from the little den where my late grandfather’s desk still sat. Nothing like a good cleaning spree to sort out my feelings.
I started with the mirror, spraying it then wiping vigorously with a paper towel. I stared into the clean glass when I’d finished, wincing when I realized I looked exactly like I’d spent the day cleaning and painting. No makeup, my hair in a messy ponytail, and paint on my shirt.
Not the first impression I’d choose to make when meeting a man as attractive as Jude. Then again, I shouldn’t even be thinking about him like that until I knew for sure I wasn’t pining after someone else’s man.
I would bet against him actually being married, because surely Chase would have mentioned that Jude and his wife were staying with him, if that was the case. But that alone didn’t mean Jude was available.
Did he have a girlfriend? Was it serious? Was he engaged?
I wished I didn’t care, but I did. Way too much. Like I said, the guy was already under my skin, and it had all started with that glimpse of him from the window.
Chapter 4
After I had the bathroom sparkling clean, I wandered around the house for a while, trying to decide which project to tackle next. I opened a closet in the living room, the one where Grandma had stored all the board games and jigsaw puzzles. It was packed full, just like I remembered, and seeing them made me feel nostalgic all over again.
Life. Racko. Hands Down. Mastermind. Trouble. Risk. Backgammon. Battleship.
I doubted whether any of the games were less than three decades old. I remembered Grandma telling me that Grandpa, who had died in a car accident in his early sixties, had enjoyed accumulating games and hosting game nights for the youth group from church. He would referee the game playing while Grandma had kept everyone supplied with snacks and punch.
I regretted never having the chance to know my grandfather, but I figured he’d have been happy about all the hours Grandma and I had spent playing his beloved games.
I picked up Battleship, which was probably my all-time favorite. I’d always hidden my little two-holed destroyer ship near the corners of the grid, and Grandma could never find it. At least, she’d pretended she couldn’t. It was probably just her way of letting me win.
I sat down at the kitchen table and opened the box, taking out one of the grid cases. I wasn’t surprised to see that all the little gray ships were still there, as well as plenty of white and red pegs. I smiled as I arranged the ships on the top grid, for old time’s sake. It was fun to remember how carefully I’d contemplated their placement, while Grandma had stuck her ships in haphazardly, with no rhyme or reason.
My stomach growled and I realized I’d skipped dinner. Probably because I’d been so overwhelmed by meeting Chase and Jude.
Ah. The gorgeous Jude.
I stood up quickly, because thinking about him was just going to get me worked up again. I went to the fridge and took out the pack of chicken I’d bought that morning after picking up paint at the hardware store. I’d intended to make a batch of chicken fried rice, but now I found I was craving something different. Something baked with love by Grandma. Or, next best thing, something baked by me.
Dessert for dinner? Why not?
I put the chicken back in the fridge and opened a cupboard, finding the brownie mix I’d also picked up that morning. A mix wasn’t exactly up to Grandma’s standards, but this particular mix was my go-to when I had a chocolate craving, and it would do just fine.
I stirred it up, slid the pan into the oven, and set the timer. Then I decided to take a quick shower while it baked.
A half hour later I was free of paint smears and dressed in comfy yoga pants and a soft, oversized tee. I left my damp hair loose. I knew it would dry wavy and a little out of control, but that was okay. My hair had a mind of its own and I was fine with that.
My mother, on the other hand, wasn’t. When I was younger she was constantly nagging me to tie it back to get it out of my face. Because of that I started to see it as a bother too, but then one time I’d overheard Ella and Audrey saying they wished they had my hair, and ever since then I’d loved it. It was thick and blonde and looked professionally highlighted, even though I’d never had it done. At the moment, it was a little longer than I liked, falling a few inches below my shoulder blades. I’d have to ask Myla if she could recommend any good local stylists the next time we talked.
I’d just returned to the kitchen to check on the brownies when I heard a scuffling noise coming from the deck. Curious, I went over and peeked through the blind on the window in the door. It was too dark to see anything, and when I tried to turn on the outside light, nothing happened.
I added a light bulb change to my mental to-do list, then listened again. The scuffling had stoppe
d, but I decided to investigate. I turned the knob and opened the door a few inches. Still nothing, so I opened it farther.
I barely had time to register the scrambling noise before a black blur shot past my legs. I gasped and jumped back, but to my credit, I didn’t release the blood-curdling scream that lodged halfway up my throat. I whirled around and pressed up against the door, then felt my knees go weak with relief when I realized my intruder was a harmless black wiener dog—who was currently positioned in front of my stove, sniffing around the edges of the oven door.
About the time my heart rate began to slow, I heard something else outside—someone calling for Lulu in a very irritated voice. It was a male voice, meaning it had to be either Chase or Jude.
Somehow, I just knew it was Jude. I gave a heavy sigh, shaking my head at the dog. Now what was I supposed to do?
I knew I should let Jude know where Lulu was, but that meant he’d have to come over to get her, and I didn’t think it was a good idea for me to see him again. Maybe I could just shove the little lady back out the door and hope she’d go to him when he called.
“What’s the deal, Lulu?” I asked, slowly walking toward her and trying to judge whether I’d be able to catch her if she made a run for it. “You smelled my brownies, huh? Have a little sweet tooth, do ya?”
She sniffed the oven again, then looked over her shoulder at me, tan eyebrows twitching over liquid brown eyes that were begging for a taste. She was saying pleeeeeeeeeease as clear as day.
“Aww, come on, girl, don’t do this to me. Chocolate’s not good for dogs, is it? Plus, I need to get you back outside before that big hunk of a man figures out where you are and comes knocking on my door. I can’t handle seeing him twice in one day, ya know?”
She turned back to the stove, her tail wagging slightly as I crooned to her.
“How’d you get out of your yard? Do you have a secret hole in the fence? Did you come over and visit Grandma sometimes, too?”
I squatted beside her and held out my hand. She sniffed it, gave a loud snort, then returned her attention to the oven.
