From Neighbors...to Newlyweds?

He knew she wasn’t issuing an invitation, but he found himself wishing that he could find some way to help her out, to be the man she turned to when she needed someone, to be the one who could ease some of the fatigue from around her eyes and put a smile on her face. But those were very dangerous wishes. She wasn’t his wife, her kids weren’t his kids, and he had to stop wanting things that couldn’t be.

“I only meant that it would be nice to have someone around to reassure me in the early hours of morning when I feel like crying right along with Pippa,” she hastened to clarify.

“Sharing a burden makes it lighter,” he agreed easily, and scribbled his phone number down on the notepad on the counter. “And if you ever do need a hand—with anything and at any time—give me a call.”

“You’ve already done me a huge favor by cutting the grass.” Butter sizzled as she dropped the first sandwich into the hot pan.

“I didn’t know there was a limit on good deeds.”

She smiled again, and though he could see the fatigue in her eyes, the curving of her lips seemed to brighten the whole room. “I don’t mean to seem ungrateful—”

“I wouldn’t say ungrateful so much as resistant.”

“I lived in New York City for the past dozen years,” she told him. “I wasn’t even on a first-name basis with most of my neighbors, and the biggest favor any of them ever did for me was to hold the elevator.”

“Obviously moving to Pinehurst has been a big adjustment.”

“My mother told me it was a different world. She encouraged me to make conversation with people I don’t know, and she chided me for locking the doors of my van when it’s parked in the driveway.”

“You lock the doors of your vehicle in your own driveway?” he asked incredulously.

“When I first moved to New York, I lived in a third-floor apartment in Chelsea. Two weeks later, I wandered down to the little coffee shop on the corner without securing the dead bolt and by the time I got back with my latte, the place had been completely cleaned out.”

“I can see how an experience like that would make anyone wary,” he admitted. “But around here, neighbors look out for one another.”

“Says the man who just moved into the neighborhood,” she remarked dryly, turning the sandwich in the pan.

He grinned. “But I grew up in Pinehurst and I’ve lived here most of my life.”

“And probably quarterbacked the high school football team to a state championship in your senior year,” she guessed.

“Actually, I was a running back,” he told her.

“Yeah, ’cause that makes a difference.”

She removed one sandwich from the pan and dropped in another. Then she cut the first into four triangles, divided them between two plates and set them on the breakfast bar. She reached into the cupboard above the sink for two plastic cups, then maneuvered past him to the fridge for a jug of milk.

Though she moved easily in completing tasks she had no doubt performed countless times before, he was suddenly cognizant of the fact that he was just standing around.

“I’m in your way,” he noted, moving aside so that he was leaning against the far stool at the counter, the baby still tucked securely in the crook of his arm.

She shook her head as she half filled the cups with milk. “If you weren’t holding Pippa, she’d be screaming her head off, wanting her lunch, and I’d be juggling her and burning the sandwiches.”

As she called the twins to the kitchen, he glanced down at the baby who had, in fact, shoved her fist into her mouth and was gnawing intently on her knuckles.

“Well, as long as I’m being useful,” he said, his wry tone earning him a small smile from Georgia, and a wide drooly one from the baby in his arms.

The quick patter of footsteps confirmed that the boys had heard their mother’s call, and they eagerly climbed up onto the stools at the counter.

Georgia moved back to the stove and flipped the next sandwich out onto a plate. She sliced it in half, then surprised Matt by setting the plate on the counter in front of him.

“Milk?” she asked. “Or did you want something else? I’ve got iced tea or juice or soda.”

“Milk is fine,” he said. “But I didn’t expect you to feed me.”

“It’s just a grilled cheese.”

“Which is much more appetizing than the cold pizza in my fridge at home.”

She shrugged. “I figured a sandwich is a small price to pay for lawn maintenance.”

“You might get the hang of small-town living yet,” he told her.

“I’m trying.”

The fact that she was making an effort gave him confidence that their fledgling friendship could lead to something more.

And though Jack’s and Luke’s warnings still echoed in the back of his mind, they were easily drowned out by the pounding of his heart when Georgia smiled at him.

Chapter Three

Georgia waited until Matt’s car was gone from his driveway before she okayed the boys’ request to visit the neighbor’s tree house. Over the past couple of weeks, they’d enjoyed several adventures in the treetop, but only when their new neighbor wasn’t home.

It wasn’t that she was avoiding Matt. Not exactly. There was just something about the man that set off warning bells in her head. Or maybe it was tingles in her veins.

He was friendly and great with the kids, and if not for the way her body hummed whenever he was near, she might have thought that they could be friends. But the sizzle of awareness was too powerful for her to be comfortable in his presence, so Georgia decided that it would be best to maintain a safe distance from him at all times—or at least until her post-pregnancy hormone levels were back to normal.

She carted Pippa over to the neighbor’s backyard so that she could keep an eye on the boys while they played in the branches.

With the baby cooing happily in her playpen, Georgia settled in a folding lawn chair beside her. She smiled as she listened to the boys’ conversation—or rather Quinn’s animated chatter and Shane’s brief responses. A few minutes later, she saw Shane’s sneaker on the top step of the ladder.

“Be careful,” she said, instinctively rising from her chair in the exact moment that his foot slipped off the next step. She was halfway to the tree, her heart lodged in her throat, when his body plummeted toward the ground.

Emergencies were par for the course for any doctor, and especially for one who worked in a hospital E.R. But when an emergency surgery was squeezed into a very narrow window between two scheduled procedures, it made an already long day seem that much longer.

After a quick shower, Matt decided to head to the cafeteria for a much-needed hit of caffeine. But then he saw Brittney—a much more effective mood booster than any jolt of java. He slung an arm across her shoulders and pressed his lips to the top of her head.

She, predictably, rolled her eyes. “A little professionalism, Dr. Garrett.”

“My apologies, Miss Hampton,” he said, not sounding the least bit apologetic.

Brittney Hampton was his former sister-in-law’s only child and a student helping out in the E.R.—a co-op placement for which she’d applied without his knowledge, determined to secure the position on the basis of her interview and not because her uncle was a doctor on staff at the hospital. She was loving the experience, and he was pleased to see that she was so intently focused on the pursuit of her goals.

“Are you on a break?” he asked her.

She nodded. “Dr. Layton said I should take one now, while there’s a lull in the E.R.”

“A lull never lasts long,” Matt agreed. “If you’re heading to the cafeteria, can I buy you a cup of coffee?”