by Lori Foster
“Save it for another day,” Jason said. “I doubt that back door opens anyway.”
As the three men talked about a game plan, Honor turned to stare helplessly at Lexie.
Her friend thrust a fist in the air. “Take-charge men,” she whispered. “Lucky you.”
“I can’t—”
“Yes,” Lexie insisted. “You can.”
Overwhelmed, Honor shook her head and, raising her voice to be heard, addressed the men. “Really, this is not necessary.”
“We don’t mind,” Colt told her, and he headed off for the garage.
Apparently to get the Bush Hog...whatever that was.
“Got a key?” Hogan rubbed his hands together. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”
Lexie leaned in close to whisper, “One step at a time, remember? Trust me on this.”
Honor wanted to resist. First impressions mattered, and theirs would be that she couldn’t handle her own move. They were strangers, and they owed her nothing.
But Lexie was excited for the help, and Colt seemed so anxious to dig in. But Jason... Her gaze skipped to him and she found his expression now masked, impossible to read.
His words, though, were pretty plain.
He held out a hand, palm up, for the key. “The sooner we get started, the sooner we can be done.”
* * *
Within an hour they had the front yard cleared, with a path created in the backyard so she could at least get to her driveway. Not that it would matter if he couldn’t get that warped door repaired, but she’d been resistant enough that he didn’t want to push things. Honor Brown already looked plenty confused by their willingness to pitch in.
Confused, and somehow worried.
Colt could work on the rest of the yard later. Once the worst of it was thinned out, she might be able to keep it in shape with a regular mower.
Only he hadn’t seen one in her truck.
Everything else had been in there, though. Furniture, clothes, dishware and a few decorations.
She was average height for a woman, slight of build, but she worked tirelessly beside them, insisting on carrying in boxes that strained her shoulders despite the fact that he, Hogan or Colt could have carried three without a problem.
Curious behavior.
The mid-June day was sunny and hot and as they worked, sweat beaded on her smooth cheeks, and little wisps of her honey-blond hair clung to her temples and the nape of her neck.
He couldn’t help noticing that on her, the overheated look was sexy as hell. He wasn’t a man obsessed with sex 24/7, but seeing her now, all warm and dewy, especially with the satisfied way she smiled while working...well, hell, he was only human and he couldn’t help that his thoughts veered to carnal activities—the best way he knew to work up a sweat.
In many ways, Honor Brown seemed naive and innocent. But there was something about her determination that obliterated that impression. He had the feeling that when necessary, she could hold her own. For sure whenever one of them tried to relieve her of a load, her big brown eyes turned defiant.
That, too, was somehow a turn-on.
Her slightly taller, blonder, much bolder friend, Lexie, showed she had more sense by staying inside and unpacking what they carried in.
It surprised Jason when he saw the inside of the place. It was still a pit, but a much cleaner pit than the last time he’d seen it a few months ago. Cobwebs, dead bugs, broken furniture and dirt were now gone. Apparently Honor had been over one day last week to scrub it out. How he’d missed her, he had no idea. Must’ve been when he and Colt had gone off fishing, and Hogan was meeting with his lawyer.
By dinnertime they had everything unloaded and most of the big items reassembled and situated, including mismatched bedroom pieces, a stack washer and dryer and shelving in the small living room.
Her couch, which had been the first thing put in the truck so was the last thing out, still had a secondhand sale tag on it. So she’d bought used furniture? Didn’t matter to him—except that she was clearly stretching her budget, and given the costs inherent in buying a rehab house, that didn’t bode well for anyone.
The fact that she was so attractive didn’t help much, either.
As he and Hogan moved the couch in front of a clean but curtainless window, Jason looked to the kitchen, where he could just see Honor on tiptoe unloading a variety of dishes into a cabinet. Her profile was even more mouthwatering than the head-on view.
Snug, faded jeans hugged a perfectly plump ass. Her stretched-out posture showed the rise of her breasts and the dip of her waist. With every movement she made, her ponytail bounced.
Honor Brown was petite without being skinny, stacked without being flagrant about it and a true natural beauty, though she seemed unaware. Her tawny-blond hair almost exactly matched her golden-brown eyes, eyes shades lighter than his. Eyes that drew him in, especially when she looked at him with a mix of curiosity and awareness.
Several times he’d seen her yawn, but not once had she slowed down. The way she moved, how she blushed...her smile. He liked it all. He liked her. Too much.
She definitely shouldn’t be here.
She must have felt him looking—again—because she went still, then glanced his way. For a second their gazes held before, once more, she looked him over. And damn, he liked that, too. The girl had a hungry way of devouring him with those whiskey-colored eyes.
Hogan stepped between them as he set out a lamp, unwrapped a decorative dish and tossed a throw pillow onto the couch.
That broke the spell. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” Setting aside a plate and hurrying into her small living room, Honor said, “Just leave everything and I’ll arrange it later.”
“We’re here,” Hogan told her, carrying a box of books to a squat bookcase. “Might as well get it set up where you want it.”
Fluttering around, fretting, she said, “Oh, but...you guys have already done so much and it’s getting late and honestly I can get this all done myself, so—”
“I’m only here temporarily,” Hogan explained. “But for now, we’re neighbors. Besides, we didn’t have anything else to do today.”
“And I brought food,” Colt said as he walked back in the front door with two boxes of pizza and a twelve-pack of Coke.
Honor’s shoulders slumped. “I’ve worked you all through dinnertime.”
That made Colt laugh. “Pretty sure we insisted.”
“They did.” Eyeing the pizzas with greed, Lexie said, “Those are mighty big pies.”
“Yes, ma’am. Enough for all of us.”
“You’re a good boy, Colt.”
The banter between Lexie and Colt only seemed to rattle Honor more. She made a beeline for her purse on the kitchen table. “I’ll pay you for it. How much—”
“No,” Jason said before Colt or Hogan could speak. The firm refusal stopped her in her tracks.
Softening things, his brother explained, “Jason gets a deal because the pizza girl is hung up on him.”
Honor swiveled around and stared. “Pizza girl?”
“True story,” Colt said. “But I’d call her a woman, not a girl.”
“Only because she’s too old for you.” Hogan said to the ladies, “She’s early twenties, and real cute.”
Jason rolled his eyes. The pizza girl—emphasis on girl—was pretty enough, but he wasn’t interested. She might be too old for Colt, but she was definitely too young for him. “Everyone’s hungry, so let’s eat.”
Honor looked around her house. “It was super nice of you to go get food—”
“Because I’m starved,” Lexie said.
“—but there’s nowhere here to sit, much less eat.”
Colt hitched his chin toward the back of the house. “I cleared a path for you over to our bac
kyard. We have a picnic table. Let’s go there.”
She stared at Colt, wanting to refuse but unsure how to deny a seventeen-year-old boy. Using her wrist to brush bangs out of her eyes, she waffled. “But—”
“No buts,” Hogan told her. “You don’t want to be unneighborly, do you?”
Jason didn’t mind Colt urging her, but what was Hogan’s endgame? “You guys go on. Get out some paper plates and stuff. I’ll help her finish in the kitchen and we’ll be right over.”
After a long speculative look, Hogan’s mouth lifted in a sly grin. “Sure.” Then to Lexie, “You coming?”
Lexie looked to Honor. “Do you mind? Or was there something else I could do?”
Immediately Honor shooed her away. “Go, sit. I’ll only be five minutes.” Unfortunately, the second the others were gone, she tried to shoo him away, too. “Really, Jason, I’ve got it. There isn’t that much more to do.”
Jason took in all the still-full boxes, the stacked kitchen, and shook his head. “Looks like a lot to me.”
“Everything I need right away is unpacked. I’ll get my bed together and then do the rest of it little by little. I promise, it won’t be a problem.”
He studied her and saw her cheeks go warm again. The woman blushed far too easily. Walking past her without a word, he entered the kitchen and picked up where she’d left off.
And he didn’t have to go on tiptoe to do it.
From behind him, she said low, “This is ridiculous.”
“What’s that?” He didn’t pause in unloading plates to the bottom shelf where she could better reach them, and putting serving bowls and platters toward the top.
“I don’t even know you people.”
Over his shoulder, he took in her disgruntled and confused expression. “Around here, neighbors help neighbors. When Sullivan Dean moved in across the street, we did the same thing. Few months ago Nathan Hawley moved in on the other side of me, and we lent a hand.” He shrugged, broke down the now empty box and put it on the stack of cardboard by the back door.
“I haven’t met them yet.”
“You will.” And though it shouldn’t, that bothered him. Both Sullivan and Nathan were single. Neither seemed to be on the prowl, but with a lady like Honor, who knew? “Clearbrook has a lot of community stuff. Volleyball, barbecues, that sort of thing. You’ll meet everyone in no time.”
Edging back into the kitchen but keeping some distance between them, she started folding dishrags into a drawer. “You’ve had a lot of people moving in?”
“Houses around here stayed empty until the city decided to revamp things.”
“Are you new to the neighborhood?”
“Grew up here, actually.” He found another empty box, and another after that, breaking each one down so the cardboard made a nice flat stack. “The house used to be our dad’s. When the area deteriorated, he saw no reason to keep maintaining the property. About eight years ago he decided he’d enjoy Florida, so I bought it from him.”
“Wow. You must’ve been pretty young.”
“Twenty-four. Old enough to know what I wanted.” He’d always loved the house and the memories that came with it. Before his mom died, it was a home. After that...both his dad and the house fell apart. “It needed some work, so I got a good deal, and Dad got the cash he needed to relocate.” These days, his father rarely visited any memories that reminded him of his deceased wife—including his sons and grandson.
“Win-win,” Honor said.
“Right.” Leaning back on the counter, he watched her close one drawer, then begin filling another with place mats, oven mitts and such. “So...no man in your life to help you get moved in?” Her friend Lexie had already announced neither of them was married, but a woman Honor’s age, looking the way she looked, surely had a guy or two hanging around.
As if the question threw her, she paused, searched for what to say and in the end just shook her head.
Unbelievable. Was that a recent occurrence? A divorce, or a breakup of another kind? Or maybe she was more like the other blonde, Lexie, than he’d first thought. “What about a brother? Your dad?”
She concentrated on the drawer. “No.”
That didn’t feel right. “No one but your friend Lexie?”
Her face flushed, but this time it was with uncertainty. “Why do you ask?”
She thought he was being nosy. Or maybe she thought he was hitting on her.
The truth was probably a mix of both. “You being here alone...it’s not a great idea.”
Like a challenge, she said, “I already had new locks put on the doors.”
His mouth quirked, but he didn’t want her to think he was laughing at her, so he tipped up his chin, scratched the beard stubble underneath and decided on a few facts. “Last week, two blocks from here, some punks broke into an older man’s house. Beat him up, robbed him. Less than a month before that a woman got jumped in her own front yard, middle of the day. Luckily Nathan was around and he stopped them before she was seriously hurt.”
“Nathan, your neighbor?”
That was the part she found interesting? “Yeah, he’s the sheriff.” Continuing, he told her, “In the past two months people around here have had their cars jacked, been robbed, assaulted—”
“Your neighbor—our neighbor—is the sheriff?”
Jason stared at her. “You’re not listening to the important part.”
She waved a hand. “I get it. There are still some criminal activities. But the area is on the upswing, right? They’re fixing up the park, new businesses are moving in and they’re even going to reopen the old neighborhood pool—”
“Which is right across from a cemetery.”
That slowed her down, but only for a heartbeat. “That’s just because the cemetery expanded, right? And now it’d be too expensive to move the pool. I’m sure it won’t bother most people. Definitely won’t bother me.”
She’d done her research. Or maybe Realtors had their pitches down. “The key point here is that it’s a work in progress. They’re still fixing up the park, too many businesses are pending and the pool probably won’t be ready until mid-July, if then.” He took a step closer. “Right now, this week, the area is not safe for a woman alone.”
Agitated, she glared at him. “So I should what? Not stay in my own house? My first house? Should I put it right back on the market? Lose the opportunity of a lifetime?” She took a step closer, too. “Rhetorical questions, because I can assure you, I’m here to stay.”
Jason stared at her earnest face, taking in each appealing feature. On top of soulful eyes, a lush mouth and a fine body, she had guts. And damn it, he liked that, too. “Get a dog. And a shotgun.” He reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, then found a business card. “And if anything spooks you, anything at all, call.”
“I’m not helpless. I can take care of myself.”
She said that so defiantly that he almost smiled. “Sure. But if you just need a hand with something, any heavy lifting, we’re right next door.”
“Muscle for hire?”
The smile cracked, and from that came a laugh. “You do seem to pick and choose what you hear and don’t hear.”
She looked at his mouth, and sighed. “I heard all of it. I’ll consider the dog once I have the yard ready. I don’t know enough about guns to get one.”
“I imagine Nathan could teach you.”
“Three guys right next door, and a sheriff next door to them. How much safer could it get?”
She was cute when she teased. Maybe he should tell her about Sullivan across the street. Talk about a badass...but no. He wasn’t going to do Sullivan’s work for him.
“The other side of your property butts up to woods. No lights. Wild animals.”
She scoffed. “Wild animals, hu
h?”
“Middle of the night, when you hear noises you don’t recognize, or maybe even gunfire nearby, no one is going to seem close enough.”
“Now you’re just trying to scare me.”
True. She needed to stay alert. Because he watched her, he could almost see her thinking as she put the business card on the refrigerator with a flower-shaped magnet. She turned pensive, too quiet.
“I mean it,” he said, drawing her out again. “If you need anything—”
“No.” All too serious, she laced her fingers together and looked up at him. “You’re really nice. I mean...really nice. All of you are. And I appreciate it. What we got done today would have taken me at least a week on my own. I’d been hopeful of just getting unloaded and getting my bed together so I’d have a place to sleep tonight.”
His thoughts veered in directions that they shouldn’t, thoughts that included her and a bed. Fewer clothes. Less talk.
“Before buying the house, I lived with roommates. Four of us in a small apartment. And before that I lived with a relative.”
Relative—not parents? He wondered about that, but then she continued explaining.
“I’m happy to be on my own. You don’t have to worry that I’ll impose on you, not for any reason.” She rocked to her heels a little, her fingers laced tightly, looking uncertain, self-conscious. “I’m grateful for the offer of a helping hand, and as reassuring as it is to know there’s backup so close by, I want to do this, the rest of it, on my own. It’s important to me.”
Yeah, it had been important to him, too, so he understood. But understanding and believing she could do it were two different things. She lacked muscles, yet much of what needed to be done would be labor intensive, work that included heavy lifting, pulling and endurance. Given her clumsiness with the dolly, he doubted she knew her way around the toolshed. What her house needed would require more than a hammer or a screwdriver.
To be sure, he asked, “You have experience with remodeling?”
“No. But I’m not dumb. I can read instructions.”
Instructions wouldn’t really cut it, but rather than belabor the point, he merely nodded. “Let’s go eat.” He’d be glad to get that part of it over with. Whether his brother or nephew realized it, Honor Brown was going to be trouble. With her next door, their peaceful bachelor existence would soon be shot to hell.
