She climbed up onto the next rung of the ladder, and he could practically hear the wood splintering beneath her feet. He couldn’t see her face, but he could imagine the look of terror filling her pretty features as the rung gave way. She lost her footing, and the ladder swiftly toppled onto the grass down below.
Caleb shot to his feet, adrenaline pumping through his veins. A faint flicker of admiration lit his chest as he saw her arms whip up like an acrobat’s, grabbing at the white-painted eave.
Relief flooded through him. She hadn’t fallen. Instead, she dangled ten feet off the ground like a really crappy cat burglar attempting to scale a building. Caleb couldn’t help but grin at the thought, but his mouth hardened when Marley twisted her neck, glancing down at the grass as if contemplating whether she could land the jump.
Sure you can, sweetheart, except you’ll probably break your ankle. Or your neck.
Letting out a sigh, Caleb took one last look at the screen, then tore out of the room.
He ran out the front door of the house the agency had rented from a pair of retired teachers who were traveling for the summer. The afternoon sun nearly blinded him, making him realize he hadn’t been outside in a week. It felt weird after being cooped up indoors for so long.
He crossed the perfectly kept lawn toward the side of the house. Only a couple of yards separated the two homes, and when he approached, Marley still hung from the eaves, cursing to herself under her breath.
He cleared his throat. “Need some help?”
She yelped in surprise and nearly lost her grip. Her legs swung wildly, making his heartbeat quicken. “Don’t let go,” he ordered.
“Who are you?” Her voice sounded tinny as it floated down from above.
“Your next-door neighbor,” he replied. “And possibly the guy who saves your life.”
She peered down at him, her light-brown eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I know my next-door neighbors, mister, and you aren’t them.”
“The Strathorns are in Europe. I’m renting their house for the summer,” he called back, annoyance tightening his lips. “Now, do you think we can discuss this after we get you down from there?”
There was a long pause. Then she was scrutinizing the ground again. “I think I can make the jump,” she said. “I once saw a documentary on stunt doubles.”
He suppressed a laugh. “That’s terrific. But no, you cannot make the jump.” He swallowed. “I’ll catch you.”
She let out a squeaky protest. “What? No way. What if you miss? Or what if I crush you—”
“With the hundred pounds you’re packing?” he interrupted in amusement. “You won’t crush me, and I won’t miss.”
Caleb stepped closer, assessing the height and angle from which she was hanging. If he raised his arms, he could almost touch her sneakers. “I’ll catch you,” he said with confidence. “I need you to take a deep breath, and let go. Okay?”
“No, thanks.”
He closed his eyes briefly, fighting back irritation. “What do you mean, no thanks?” He scowled up at her. “Are you always so difficult?”
“No, I’m scared,” she retorted. “I’m only twentyseven. I don’t want to die today.”
This time he couldn’t stop a laugh from rumbling out of his throat. “You won’t die. Trust me. Deep breath, then let go. On the count of three, okay?”
She hesitated for what seemed like an eternity. “Okay.”
He rubbed his hands together, widening his stance. “One,” he called. “Two—”
“Wait—on three, or one, two, three, let go?”
Caleb sighed. “On three.”
“Fine.”
He started again. “One…two…three.”
A second later, her body came flying down and he suddenly found himself with an armful of warm, soft woman. One hand had instinctively reached out to cup her bottom, and his palm now cradled a firm, perfectly round backside, as Marley Kincaid’s arms wound tightly around his neck.
She was breathing heavily, her body trembling a little. “You all right?” he asked. His voice sounded rough even to his own ears.
She nodded, tilting her head to look up at him. Her brown eyes widened slightly, her lips parting in surprise as she examined his face. She checked him out for so long he felt a pang of discomfort. “You should really let someone else clean those gutters for you,” he grumbled.
Marley just stared at him, and then, to his extreme confusion, she started to laugh.
2
“SERIOUSLY,” HER SEXY SAVIOR said in a deep voice. “If you don’t tell me you’re okay in the next two seconds, I’m calling an ambulance.”
“I’m okay,” she sputtered.
God, this was priceless. Her laughter came out in soft waves, while adrenaline still pumped through her blood. She suddenly wondered if Gwen had somehow planned this, though that seemed totally unlikely. But come on, what were the chances? Her friend had been babbling about tall, dark, handsome strangers sweeping Marley off her feet, and all of a sudden, a tall, dark, handsome stranger shows up and sweeps her off her feet. Literally.
“Can I let you go now?” he asked, a tad brusquely.
Her laughter finally trailed off. She nodded, and he set her down. Her legs were still quite shaky after her brush with possible death, but her brain seemed to have forgotten about her roof gymnastics—it was too busy analyzing the beautiful man standing in front of her.
He had that chiseled kind of face you expected to see on a movie screen, lines and angles put together to create a rugged landscape, vivid eyes the color of the Pacific Ocean. A pair of faded jeans clung to his long legs and taut behind, while a navy-blue T-shirt emphasized a broad chest and delicious set of rippled abs.
No doubt about it, this was one ridiculously gorgeous man.
Her heart did a few somersaults. “Thanks for catching me,” she said.
“No problem.” He took a step backward, looking like he couldn’t wait to get out of here. “Be more careful next time, all right?” Another step. “I’ll see you around.”
“Wait, who did you say you were again?”
“I’m Caleb Ford.” His blue eyes flickering with weariness, he extended his hand. “I’m renting the house next door to yours.” As if to confirm it, he gestured to the redbrick side wall of the Strathorn house.
Since he was sticking his hand out at her, she had no choice but to shake it. The moment they touched, warmth suffused her palm, followed by a spark of awareness. Gosh, this guy was attractive. The messy black hair, the serious blue eyes, the drool-worthy bod. And his hand felt good on hers. Too good.
She quickly snatched it away, leery of the awareness sliding around in her body. Fine, so this guy was incredibly handsome, but he was also a total stranger. And the Strathorns hadn’t told her they were renting their place out for the summer. She knew they were in Europe—they’d asked her to pick up their mail. So why hadn’t they mentioned someone named Caleb Ford would be staying in their house?
“How do you know the Strathorns?”
Her voice held a note of suspicion, which she didn’t attempt to hide. Since her experience with Patrick, she was far more careful about handing out her trust to strangers.
“Through a mutual friend. I heard they were going to Europe for a few months, so my friend arranged for me to rent this place while they’re gone.”
“Oh, that’s convenient.” She casually pushed a strand of blond hair off her forehead. Her ponytail had pretty much come apart after her near fall, and unruly blond waves kept getting in her eyes. “Isn’t Stan and Debbie’s house terrific? They have a lot of antiques in there.”