Maizy the Bear Charmer(Diving Creek Ranch 16)(53)

“No.”

“That’s what they started out doing before they switched to security work. They’re multitalented.”

“Tell me about it.”

Lucy snorted and said, “What do you say to a milk shake before I take you home?”

“I say I think we earned it.”





Chapter Thirteen




Spencer waved at Lucy as she passed him on Maizy’s street, evidently having just dropped her off, and turned into her driveway. They’d worked the entire day on the house and even working his ass off hadn’t done much to diminish the erotic buzz that vibrated in his body every time Maizy came to mind.

After parking Heath’s truck, he walked up to her door. In his peripheral vision he saw the matronly woman standing on her porch next door watching him. Thinking it was important to seem friendly, he smiled and waved at her. Look harmless. Fake it till you make it.

With a suspicious scowl on her face, the woman gave him a perfunctory wave and sat down on her porch swing to watch him as he rang the doorbell. A few seconds later, the door opened and he had to stop himself from reaching out and just grabbing Maizy up, nosy neighbor or not.

She stood there looking gorgeous in ratty grass-stained jeans, a hot pink Hello Kitty T-shirt, and old sneakers. Her hair was pulled up into a wild messy knot with a clip or something, and her cheeks were hollowed as she sucked on a straw in a white Styrofoam cup. When she saw him, she released the straw with a squelch, swallowed, and said, “Hi!” She must’ve noticed him still staring at the straw and said, “It’s strawberry. Want some?” She stuck it back in her mouth and sucked some more before she grinned at him.

Holy fuck, do I want some, baby! His cock did the teenaged man-whore-wannabe routine as he watched her suck on that straw.

“Come in! I’m just throwing fresh clothing in a bag. Cody said I could shower at your place tonight,” she added softly as she beckoned him in.

She trotted down the hallway while he looked around her house and smiled. Organized clutter described it best. He understood now why she thought their house needed some color. Her style was a little bohemian. Thinking back to the way she’d been dressed the first time he’d seen her, he learned something new about her. She had to dress a certain way for work, but she showed her personality in the little touches. Her scarves, her little lacey jacket from the night before, and the cute as hell, and just a little too tight, T-shirt she had on. There were peeks of the real woman underneath the staid surface for anyone who cared to look.

He walked into her den and vibrant color outside the back windows drew him to take a look.

“Did you plant all of this?” he asked as he heard her coming down the hall. She joined him at the windows and then opened the door for him.

“I did. It took a while but I love it out here.”

He looked at the blooming antique rosebushes lining the fence on all three sides of the backyard, and the large freeform bed in the center. “This must’ve cost a fortune to plant,” he whispered as he walked out onto the back porch and into the yard.

“Nope.”

“No?” he asked, looking back at her in curiosity.

She shook her head and grinned at him. “No. I grew them all from cuttings I’ve taken from other rosebushes in the area.”

“You propagated these yourself? How long have you lived here?”

“Yes, it’s my hobby. I’ve been here about six years,” she murmured as she stroked a Maggie rose bloom. “When I was in high school, I grew several rosebushes as cuttings for a science fair project. Mom introduced me to a lady she knew who was a Texas Rosarian and I learned a lot from her. Once the project was done, my mom and I planted those bushes in the backyard and they took off. It’s been a hobby of mine ever since. When I moved in here, the yard was nothing but carpet grass with weeds mixed in. I did all of this myself.”

“Damn, baby. This is amazing,” he whispered, not wanting to draw the attention of her neighbors.

“Thank you. Do you know antique roses?”

Spencer smiled and nodded as he walked over to look at a bush filled with blooms with dark pink and peach colored outer petals and yellow inner petals and turned back to her. “Rosette Delizy?”

The transformation in her beaming face stunned him. She slid her arm around his waist as she joined him. “Yes, this Rosette Delizy is special because the cuttings were given to me by that same Rosarian who taught me so much.” She shaded her eyes, looked up at him, and said, “You really took me by surprise, Spencer. Who taught you about roses?”

“Our last foster mother. She had a seriously green thumb.”