“I think the reopening is the perfect night to start the program,” Misty declared eagerly. “All you need is a date. There has to be someone that you’re interested in.”
A mental image of her neighbor popped up in Stephanie’s head. He was shirtless and hovering over his motorcycle. His muscled back, arms, and abs were highlighted by a sheen of sweat. The image wasn’t born from her imagination, it was a mental snapshot that she’d taken when she’d come home from work and seen him in his garage two days ago. Every line and curve of his chiseled frame was burned into her memory. She’d tried to erase it, delete it, forget it, but it just kept popping up.
Ace had moved into the condo next to her about a month ago and she’d purposefully kept her distance from him. He had trouble written all over him. She didn’t have the time or energy for trouble in her life. He was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome with his deep dimples, southern accent, and striking blue eyes, contrasted perfectly by his dark hair and olive complexion. Top him off with an air of mystery and danger and he was firmly in the off-limits zone.
She’d managed to have spoken to him only one time six days ago. It had not gone well.
After arriving home from a thirteen-hour shift, she’d collapsed in bed and was blissfully asleep when she’d been startled awake from a loud knock on her front door. Her eyes were still shut as she’d stumbled down the hall. She’d barely pried one eye open when she’d swung the door open. Her brain hadn’t quite received the message that it was no longer asleep until she laid eyes on her sexier than sin neighbor and then it woke right up.
His hair was damp, like he’d just gotten out of the shower. The white shirt that pulled taut across the muscled planes of his chest and the rounded curves of his biceps contrasted his olive skin perfectly. The jeans he wore hung low on his waist and were faded in all the right areas. His large hands were holding a cardboard box with the words Fresh and Healthy on the side. He explained that it had accidently been delivered to him instead of her. The label on it said refrigerate upon arrival so he wanted to get it right over to her.
What she should have done in that situation was thank him, take the box, and shut the door. Unfortunately, Stephanie tended to speed-ramble when she was exhausted, nervous, or turned on. Combining all three was apparently a trainwreck.
In under thirty seconds she’d explained that the mail mix-up happened a lot because their house numbers were displayed between their two front doors and it caused confusion for any delivery person other than Mitch, their normal mailman who was out on disability because he’d slipped and broken his hip. He was going to be in the hospital for at least another week and then would need surgery and physical therapy. She’d also explained that the reason for the sticker was because the contents of the box were perishable premade meals that she ordered bi-weekly from a service because since it was just her now, she didn’t cook anymore because she hated doing dishes. But she liked to eat healthy and this was the third service that she’d tried because the first two tasted worse than the cardboard that they came in. But she’d seen an advertisement for Fresh and Healthy and she thought, that’s the one for me. And they were. So now their boxes were delivered to her twice a month.
Then she took a breath.
When she did an amused look in his striking blue eyes caused the tiny hairs on the back of her neck to stand, or maybe it was just his eyes and had nothing to do with the amusement in them. His only response to her turbo-fueled speed-ramble was the twitch of the left corner of his mouth and a simple. “Oh.”
Knowing that if she opened her mouth again she’d most likely make an even larger fool of herself, she did what any sane woman trying to salvage a shred of dignity would do. She grabbed the box, shut the door, and then yelled thank you through it. It wasn’t one of her prouder moments. She knew that it would be getting a page in her awkward moment chronicles, and that had been before she’d seen her reflection in the hallway mirror. Her hair looked like a bird had built a nest in it and thanks to her pillow she had two very large creases running down her right cheek.
Now, as she stared down at the table she shook off that memory and knocked him out of the running as a potential date. When she glanced up she saw Misty looking at her expectantly. She didn’t want to make any commitments, but she also hated disappointing people.
Stephanie blew out a breath. “I’ll think about it.”
She would…and hopefully come up with a better candidate than her sexy next-door neighbor.
Chapter 2
The unforgiving sun was beating down mercilessly on this uncharacteristically hot September day. Sweat dripped down the back of Ace’s neck as he pushed the lawn mower up and down the small patch of grass in front of his condo. It was mindless work that most people dreaded, but he enjoyed.
Today was the first day off he’d had since he’d left the Corps five weeks ago. Before he’d even unpacked his bags he’d started his first job at Elite Protection, a private security company that was owned by Seth Sloan, who he’d served under for four years. A week later he’d decided to invest as a one-third partner in a bar and grill with Seth’s brother, Riley, and another former Marine, Dax. Every day since then, if he wasn’t on the job he’d been working at the bar and grill. They were doing a lot of the renovations themselves to save money. This was the first chance he’d gotten to take care of his overgrown lawn since he’d moved in and he was leaving tomorrow for another assignment. This job was a military contract that could last anywhere from one to six weeks. He’d been hand selected because of his experience with asset extractions in Special Ops. He planned on enjoying his day off, starting with some good, old-fashioned manual labor.
“You’re not God’s gift to women!” A shrieking, high-pitched voice cut through the rumbling growl of the lawn mower. “Get over yourself!”
Ace cut the motor and lifted his head. Beneath the brim of his baseball cap he saw a pretty brunette wearing cutoff shorts stalking towards him. He didn’t see a car and had no idea where she’d come from. She was making her way up the front walkway that led to both his and his neighbor’s front door with a phone to her ear looking down at the ground. When her gaze lifted and their eyes met she stopped up short. Her mouth dropped and closed again.
“Whoa.” Her large, almond shaped eyes widened as she asked breathlessly, “Who are you?”
Ace wasn’t a naturally suspicious person, but he’d always been a firm believer in trusting his intuition. This brown-haired beauty was wearing a blinking florescent sign that read—Warning: Danger Ahead. “Good mornin’.”
“And you have an accent…” The young woman whispered in awe.
Ace could hear a man’s voice through the speaker on the phone. He didn’t sound happy as he demanded to know who she was talking to. Who had an accent? And where the hell was she?
Dropping the device from her ear, she disconnected the call without answering any of the questions posed to her by the irate individual on the other end of the phone.
When she stood staring at him with a dazed expression, Ace asked, “Are you okay?”
Instead of answering, she just nodded.
“Can I help you with somethin’?” You can take the boy out of the South, but you can’t take the South out of the boy. Southern hospitality was so engrained in his DNA that not even a flashing neon sign stopped him from offering his assistance.
“Oh, I’m very certain you can help me.” A flirty smile slowly spread across her face as she started to put the phone in her pocket.
Before the device left her hand a song—that he’d heard about a thousand times that summer but he couldn’t name if his life depended on it—started playing. Loudly. She pressed a button on the side and silenced it, but not even two seconds later it started again.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” she mumbled under her breath with a frustrated huff.
A small scrunch appeared at the bridge of her nose as she pursed her lips and lifted her pointer finger in the air and instructe
d Ace to, “Hold that thought.”
Then, after taking a deep breath she swiped across the screen in an exaggerated motion, lifted her phone to her ear, and spoke with an eerie calmness. “Hey, Roger. Do me a favor, the next time you get the urge to call me call your wife instead. Because guess what? If your number shows up on my phone again, that’s the next call I’ll be making. Oh and I’ll make sure to congratulate her on her pregnancy.”
Damn.
When Ace was growing up, before he’d gotten involved in sports, he’d spent his summers at his Grandma Lulu’s house. During the afternoons she’d make sweet tea and they’d sit together and watch her “programs.” Watching this unfold was like witnessing one of those soap operas in real life, or IRL as the kids were saying these days.
From the cursing that was audible from where Ace was standing several feet away he heard loud and clear that Roger didn’t want anyone calling his wife.
The brunette once again disconnected the call. This time it remained silent.
“Hi,” she greeted him as she extended her hand. “I’m Simone and I’m sorry that you had to overhear that.”
“Ace, nice to meet you.” Ace shook her offered hand and smiled. “And no worries. It was quite the show.”
“So glad I could amuse you.” Simone’s lips turned up in a sly grin, her eyes held a mischievous twinkle as her fingers tightened around his hand. “You’re new. What’s your story?”
Ace smiled back, but released his grasp and firmly pulled out of hers. He avoided women that looked at him like he was prey and they were the hunter. From experience he’d learned, that gleam was bad news. It meant either they played games or were crazy, and he’d never been one to play games and he didn’t enjoy crazy. Especially not when it came to relationships.
“No story.”
“Everyone has a story,” she countered, as her left brow rose.
“I’m just a guy mowing a lawn.” Leaning down he started the mower back up. Straightening, he tipped the brim of his cap towards her. “Better get back to it. You have a real nice day.”
“Wow! That was impressive.” She shouted, so that she could be heard over the roar of the motor. “I’ve never been dismissed so politely. What are you the King of Kind Brushoffs?”
With a final goodbye nod and grin combo, he tugged the bill of his baseball cap lower and pushed the mower down the patch of grass that he’d been working on before he’d been interrupted. Out of his peripheral vision he saw that the girl began following him. He was just about to turn around and let her know, in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t interested. It was better to nip these things in the bud before they got out of hand. Thankfully, he was saved from putting his newly appointed royal status in jeopardy when her phone rang again and she answered it before turning and marching up the pathway straight to his neighbor’s door.
For a moment he thought about letting her know that Stephanie, who lived next door to him, wasn’t home, but he decided against it. No reason to once again open up the lines of communication when she would find out for herself soon enough.
Of course, if she asked him to relay a message he would be all too happy to oblige. Not out of the Southern hospitality that was engrained in him, no, this service would be fueled with purely selfish motivation. He would take any excuse to pay a visit to his hot redheaded neighbor. Last week there’d been a mix up in a package delivery and he’d been more than eager to go next door to drop it off, face to face.
His neighbor was a nurse, but he’d decided that she was also living a double life as a ninja, because she slipped in and out unnoticed…and not for lack of him paying attention. And not just from her condo, he’d seen her at the grocery store, the gas station, downtown walking along the river, and even at a wedding that they’d both attended. Every sighting played out the same way. He’d catch a glimpse of her big brown eyes and a flash of her long, golden red hair and when he’d do the inevitable double take, because she was a double take kinda woman, she’d be gone. Poof. Vanished. Her now-you-see-me-now-you-don’t skills would make David Blaine proud.
The thought had occurred to him that she was a figment of his imagination, or that he was having a Sixth Sense moment and only he could see her. But when he went over to deliver her package, that theory was disproven. She was real. She was adorable. She was sexy. She was really, adorably sexy.
Every time Ace thought about the creases that lined her cheek when she’d opened the door he couldn’t help the grin that spread on his face. He had the same reaction when he remembered the way her hair was flattened to one side of her head and a mess on the other, her oversized shirt being inside out and backwards and her impressive speed talking skills. Over the past week he’d been walking around with a permanent smile on his face as his mind kept replaying that all-too-brief interaction.
When he reached the edge of the lawn he turned the mower to head back up and expected to see Simone still standing at the door, but she was gone. He assumed that she must’ve had a key or known where a hide-a-key was since Stephanie wasn’t home and he hadn’t seen Simone walk back down the steps.
Questions began filling his head. Was she a roommate? Sister? Would she be staying here?
As he pondered questions that he had no answers to, his phone buzzed in his pocket. After killing the engine, Ace wiped his damp palm on his jeans before pulling it out. When he saw that it was a nine-one-two area code he did the same thing he’d been doing for the past six months when he saw those numbers, he didn’t answer.
He stared at the screen and when he saw the voicemail he lifted the device to his ear.
The voice of the last person he wanted to hear from came through the speaker.
“Hey bro, Mom and Dad have been trying to get ahold of you and you haven’t called them back. I know your panties are in a wad, but you don’t have to be a dick to them. They had nothing to do with what happened, especially the article. If you’re going to be pissed at anyone, be pissed at me. Don’t punish them for what I did.”
That was it. The line went dead.
Was that supposed to be an apology? Ace wondered as he returned his phone to his pocket.
His brother had never been good at saying he was sorry. When Grant was twelve he stole the bike Ace had just gotten for his tenth birthday even though he had a perfectly good bike sitting in the garage. He’d then proceeded to leave the bike outside the movie theater while he snuck into an R-rated movie and the bike was stolen. Instead of showing any kind of remorse, or taking any kind of responsibility, Grant had blamed Ace. His defense was basically that if Ace hadn’t wanted Grant to take the bike he should’ve locked it up…at his own house.
That wasn’t surprising since Grant was a kid and what kid wanted to get in trouble? What was surprising was that his parents had grounded Ace for not “taking care of his property.” Actually, it wasn’t that surprising since Grant could do no wrong in his parents’ eyes. He was more than just the golden child, he walked on water. Grant believed it too. Growing up in the shadow of his ego had been a cold and dark place to live.
His phone buzzed again and he ignored it as he continued pushing the lawn mower up and down in perfect lines with adrenaline-charged energy racing through him.
The vibrating stopped but seconds later started again. Not picking up the call caused tension to spread in his shoulders. He forced himself to relax. He wasn’t in the Corps anymore, so he didn’t have anyone to report to. He wasn’t engaged anymore, so he had no one to check in with. For the first time in his adult life, he was accountable to no one, and he planned on keeping it that way.
He’d left his hometown of Savannah, Georgia on his eighteenth birthday to join the Marines and hadn’t looked back. The first eight years that he was in the Corps he truly believed that he’d never return home. Never spend holidays at his parents’ house. Never set foot in the city limits again.
Then, four years ago, all that changed. He was on leave and celebrating the wedding of a guy in his unit in Las
Vegas. After the ceremony he was walking on the strip when he ran into, literally ran into, Kendall Lexington. She was his childhood crush and the girl that had taken his virginity when he was a freshman and she was a senior.
Their reunion was like a scene out of a bad rom-com movie. She’d been taking a selfie and hadn’t been watching where she was going and he’d been talking to his friend Tank and—bam!—they’d walked right into each other. They’d reconnected in a big way that weekend and stayed in touch. A year ago, after Ace made the decision that he wasn’t going to re-up after he’d served out his remaining months, he’d asked her to be his wife and she said yes. They’d decided that they were going to settle in Savannah since she’d moved home a few months earlier to work in her parent’s real estate development firm.
Six months and an ill-timed, or maybe perfectly-timed, Facetime call later and the engagement was off. Now he was back to his original plans of keeping Georgia in the rearview.
Ace’s muscles tensed as he finished not only his side of the front yard, but his sexily adorable neighbor’s side as well. He returned the mower to the back of his garage and just as he reached out to press the button to roll down the door, Simone popped inside wearing the same jean shorts but now she’d lost the shirt and was wearing only a bikini top.
She boldly strode up to him and handed him a white plastic bottle with an image of a beach on it.
“Turns out you can help me with somethin’.” She mimicked his accent as she turned and pulled her hair to the side and undid the ties around her neck, holding the front of the bathing suit in place with her arms. “I’m going down to the river and I don’t want tan lines.”
The fact that he wasn’t the least bit interested didn’t stop him from appreciating Simone’s straightforward approach. Ace wasn’t a stranger to confident, daring women. In fact, he’d always appreciated it. Looking back it probably had something to do with losing his virginity to Kendall. Not only was she four years older than him, she also had no problem telling him exactly what she wanted and where she wanted it. As he’d gotten older he’d definitely taken the reins in the bedroom, but still appreciated a woman that knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to speak up.
All He Needs – Ace & Stephanie (Crossroads Book 10) Page 2
