Don't Tempt Me

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, low, “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 so unused to compliments from men 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. What we don’t generally see are young women—”

“I’m twenty-nine!”

“—who are completely alone, setting up house here.”

It hurt to know he was right, that for all intents and purposes, she was alone now. She had Lexie, but that wasn’t the same as a significant other, or family who cared.

“You’re in over your head,” he continued. “The work that needs to be done would be daunting for a man, but for a woman? Especially a woman like you?”

Sexy—and sexist. She firmed her spine. “Like me?”

“Small,” he explained. “Soft.”

“I’m not.”

“You most definitely are. Playing house is all well and good—”

“I’m not playing.” She was dead serious about it, all of it. She had to be.

“—but it’ll take more than that to make it work. A hell of a lot more.”

Honor huffed, then deflated with the truth of her situation. “Well, this sucks.”

He hesitated, but finally asked, “What does?”

Putting her nose in the air, she 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, especially when she knew someone acted out of concern. 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 laserlike 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.

More than ever, she was determined to do it all on her own. In the process she’d be nice to her caring, helpful, gorgeous neighbor—and she’d absolutely prove him wrong.

* * *

A week later, in the middle of painting her small bathroom a cheery yellow, Honor’s cell phone rang. Since she didn’t have the luxury of ever ignoring a call, she always kept the phone on her.

Juggling things, she dug it from the pocket of her sloppy pajama pants, saw it was Lexie and put it on speaker so she could leave it on the sink. “Hey, Lex.”

“Dare I hope you’re breathless for a good reason?”