Fighting Dirty (Ultimate #4)(69)
But she also liked his intense focus, the way he smiled with pleasure at his nephew, and his up-front honesty. That honesty had stung a little, since he clearly felt she was out of her league. Then again, he’d pitched in and done what he could to make her move-in easier.
How could she not admire him?
Naturally she wouldn’t say any of that to him, so instead she shared other thoughts. “The move, the house—now that it’s officially mine and I’m here, there are a million things running through my mind. What to do first, how much money I’ll need, how to do it and when to do it.” She smiled up at him. “Tonight, I might just dance around and enjoy it all.”
“Yeah? Well, since you don’t have curtains yet, I might watch.”
She laughed at his teasing. “After I get the windows covered, then I’ll dance.”
His smile warmed. “Spoilsport.”
Their shoulders bumped, electrifying Honor. She took a step to the side, ensuring it wouldn’t happen again.
“I get it,” Jason told her. “First big night in your own place.” Lifting a brow, he added, “And yeah, curtains might not be a bad idea. Or at least tack up a sheet or something.”
Maybe, Honor thought, he didn’t dislike her as a neighbor as much as she’d assumed.
Stopping in the side yard, well out of range of everyone else, Honor looked up at him. Way up because he was so much taller than her.
He stopped, too, his expression attentive.
She shouldn’t ask, but she had to. “When we first met...when I hit your trash can?”
“I told you, no big deal.”
“I know, but...is that why you kept staring at me?”
Those gorgeous dark eyes caressed her face. He glanced toward Colt, then over to watch Lexie climb into the passenger seat of the truck.
Finally his gaze came back to hers, and the impact took her breath.
“For one thing,” he said in a low voice, “you’re attractive.”
Without thinking about it, Honor smoothed her ponytail and tucked a few loose tendrils behind her ears. “Um, thank you. But I’m such a mess today.”
His gaze warmed even more. “Messy and a mess are two very different things.”
That deep voice made her pulse race. She was such an inexperienced dweeb, she wasn’t sure how to respond, so she just nodded and said, “Okay.”
A fleeting smile teased his mouth before he grew somber. “I also recognize trouble when I see it.”
She tucked in her chin. “Trouble?”
“You.”
“Me?” The question emerged as a squeak.
“You don’t fit the mold, Honor Brown. Not even close.”
A rush of umbrage helped to steady her voice. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“A certain type of person moves here. Not just to the area, but to this particular block. Mostly single men who can handle themselves. Men with some contractor skills, with time and ability to do the repairs needed. Young women—”
“I’m twenty-nine!”
“—who are completely alone do not set up house here.”
It hurt to know he was right, that she was alone. She had Lexie, but it wasn’t the same as a significant other or family who cared. She huffed, then deflated. “Well, this sucks.”
He hesitated, but finally asked, “What does?”
Putting her nose in the air, Honor stared into his beautiful brown eyes. “I haven’t even finished moving in, and already I dislike my neighbor.”
On that parting remark, she turned and strode away. But her heart was thumping and her hands felt clammy and her stomach hurt.
She was never that rude. What in the world got into me?
Right before she reached the truck she glanced over her shoulder and saw Jason still standing there, hands on his hips, that laser-like gaze boring into her.
Damn it. She turned to fully face him. “Jason?”
His chin notched up in query.
“I apologize. I didn’t mean it.” Immediately she felt better—even with Lexie now laughing at her.
Jason’s hands fell to his sides and he dropped his head forward. She saw his shoulders moving.
Laughing? She wasn’t sure.
But she smiled and started to turn away again.
“Honor.”
She peeked at him and found his hands were back on his hips.
“You’re still trouble, no doubt about it. But if you need anything, let me know.”
Sure. When hell froze over. She smiled sweetly, waved and finally got in the truck.
Copyright © 2016 by Lori Foster