The Sweetest Gift

“What?” Her pulse rocketed up a notch.

“Sam Gardner.” His rock-hard brown gaze pinned hers. “Guess I should have introduced myself properly. So a woman alone and as skittish as you would feel comfortable.”

She’d be offended by his tone, except that there was a glimmer of humor in his eyes. Oh, she knew about men like him. Too handsome for his own good, and he knew it, too.

Shouldn’t he be next door repairing the plumbing? Why was he bugging her?

He arched his brow, and on his granite face it was more of a demand than a question. “I’ve told you my name. So it’d be polite if you told me yours.”

“I never said I was polite.”

“Darlin’, you have it written all over that peaches-and-cream complexion of yours.” A hint of a smile played on his mouth. “Go ahead. You can say it. My name is…?”

“Kirby. Is there some reason you climbed through my hedge?”

“There sure is. I only crash through hedges for a good cause. I’m here because I’m in trouble.”

“Oh, I see.” Of course that’s why he was here. Why he was laying on the charm. He wanted something. “Let me guess. You need to use my phone to make a long-distance emergency call.”

“Nope, but are you offering? I could think of someone to call long distance.”

“No.”

What was he doing? Sam Gardner knew better than to tease a pretty young woman, especially one so seemingly good and innocent, because he’d learned from experience. No good could come from it. Hugging a nestful of rattlers would be less hazardous.

That’s why he did it. He saw the way she’d looked him up and down as potential marriage material. Single women of a certain age had that common habit, and he had to make it clear. He was not a candidate for holy matrimony. The question was, did she get the hint?

Her bow-shaped mouth drew down. Oh, yeah, she was expecting the worst from him.

“You want me to fix you a sandwich? Run to the hardware store for you? Lend you money? My grandmother warned me about men like you.”

“Good guys, you mean?”

Her delicate brows arched above her perfect, blue-sky eyes. He’d managed to offend her pretty well.

Good. Mission complete.

“No, men who try to offend women on purpose.”

Ooh…busted. He’d have to watch this one. She was smarter than she looked. “You can’t blame a guy for trying to make a memorable impression.”

“Memorable? You would have been better off wearing a ski mask and asking for all my money. I’d be more relaxed around you.”

“I had you believing that for a few minutes. C’mon, I saw that look on your face when you dashed for the door.”

“I did not dash.”

“You were ready to.”

“Maybe, but you do look like a man who can’t be trusted.” She lit up as she said that. And she may as well have plastered “single and looking” on her forehead in neon-red ink.

He hadn’t been promoted as fast as he had in the armed forces without being dead-on when it came to reading people and knowing what they were capable of. And pretty blond women of a certain age without a diamond on their left ring finger wanted only one thing.

Yep, he’d be wary of her. Friendly, but wary.

“So, are you gonna help me out or not?”

“I’ll take it under consideration.”

While she thought about it, she took a sip of her coffee—he could smell the chocolate and caffeine from four paces away. That frilly drink probably had extra whipped cream and those chocolate candy sprinkle things, too.

She eyed him over the top of the pastel-pink straws she was daintily sipping from. Was she still trying to figure out if he was suitable marriage material? Or had he convinced her that he wasn’t?

“I can’t believe you conned Mrs. Gardner into hiring you. She isn’t paying you to stand on my walkway talking to me.”

“She’s not paying me. I’m fixing her house out of the kindness of my own good heart.”

“Excuse me, but you don’t look the type.”

“Appearances can be deceiving.”

“Let me get this straight. You’re fixing the plumbing next door for free?”

“Hey, don’t look so surprised. I know I don’t look like those GQ kind of men or the suit-and-tie-wearing office types who say please and thank you. I don’t have ‘feelings.’ But I’m not a jerk out to profit off an old lady on a fixed income. I’m Ruth’s nephew.”

Kirby’s rosebud mouth dropped open in surprise. “Her nephew? You?”

“That’s an affirmative.”

She stared at him. “Ruth Gardner is petite and blond, and you look like James Bond gone bad. Are you sure you’re related to her?”

James Bond, huh? He liked that. “Yep. She married my dad’s brother. He passed last year. I came for the funeral, and realized how alone Ruth was. No children of her own, and so she’d always done her best to spoil me when I was growing up. I figured I might move here and keep an eye on her. She’s the only family I’ve got.”

Kirby’s blue eyes warmed a notch as she studied him again. This time with a much higher regard. “Ruth belongs to my church. She’s a very nice lady. I’m sure she’s relieved you’re helping her out with this house. She had nothing but problems with the last renters.”

“Yep, but I came and evicted them. No more problems.”

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that. You’ll find a nice quiet couple or a young family, maybe. Responsible people to rent, right?”

There she went, being too friendly again. He’d gone too far. He didn’t think of himself as a man with natural charm. In fact, he tried to scare away marriage-seeking women on purpose. Looked as if he’d better try harder.

“So, what about that favor? I had to shut off the water to the house. Trouble is, I need to flush a pipe, and I can’t turn on the main valve. Would you let me use your garden hose for about five minutes?”

“Five minutes, not six?”

“How about five and a half?”

“Deal. The hose is in the back. Just go through the side gate.” Soft humor sparkled in those pretty blue eyes of hers.