ridiculous, he said, “It’s not mine. Jason owns it.”
“Do tell,” Lexie said.
“I’m Hogan Guthrie. Jason is my overly serious brother.”
Hogan the blue-eyed dad, Colt the mature-looking son and Jason...the far-too-hot shirtless hunk. As she committed the names to memory, Honor glanced at each of them, but repeatedly got drawn back to Jason.
The sun highlighted the cut of his cheekbones, the straight line of his nose and across those sleek, hard shoulders. Why didn’t he put on a shirt? She couldn’t quite keep her gaze from his chest, noting he had just the right amount of dark chest hair going from one well-defined pec to the other, then bisecting his body downward...
It wouldn’t kill the man to pull up his well-worn jeans, either. Being healthy and female and, okay, more than a little sex starved, she automatically tracked the treasure trail leading down his abdomen to inside those low-slung jeans...
“Hogan and Colt live here, too,” Jason said while silently accepting her scrutiny.
Busted again. She cleared her throat and got her eyes to focus back on his face. “I see.” To Hogan, she asked, “You and your wife are in the neighborhood?”
Pushing away from the truck, Hogan said, “Colt’s mother is gone.”
That left her floundering. Did he mean...dead? Should she give condolences?
Or maybe he meant she’d moved away.
“For now,” Hogan continued, “we live with Jason.”
Oh. With him. In the same house.
All three of them—right next door to her.
Saving her from the awkward silence, Lexie took over. “I’m Lexie Perkins, and the new homeowner here is Honor Brown.” Then to Jason, she added, “You’re going to make her faint if you don’t let up.”
“Lexie!” Horrified, Honor felt so much heat in her face it nearly singed her. She’d gag her friend if she didn’t stop with the outrageous behavior.
Jason cocked a brow but didn’t look away.
Opening her door and getting out, Honor circled the back of the big truck instead of the front, because it gave her a few seconds more to compose herself.
Her neighbor’s house was to her right, twice the size of the one she’d just bought and with a well-trimmed yard, a big front porch and a massive garage in the back. Through open barn doors she saw a lot of tools and some sort of workbench.
Their driveways ran alongside each other, hers to the right of her house, his to the left of his, with only about fifteen feet separating them. His was concrete, hers gravel. His led to the garage and hers led to...weeds and refuse.
He must hate having such a disreputable mess next to his very nice home. She’d have her work cut out for her, but she decided she’d make repairs to the outside first.
Knowing she’d stalled too long, Honor emerged to the other side of the truck where both men and Lexie chatted about something.
With his attention finally off her, Honor felt free to look him over in more detail. While Hogan and Colt both had their dark hair neatly trimmed, Jason’s was a little too long and unruly, the wavy ends flipping in all directions as if he’d combed it only with fingers, and not any time recently. Pronounced beard shadow made her think he hadn’t shaved for a few days. When he smiled at something Lexie said, his teeth looked incredibly white against his tanned face. Little lines fanned out from the corners of his eyes.
He wasn’t muscle bound like a bodybuilder, but strength showed in his wide shoulders, furry chest and flat abdomen. He was a little sweaty, and so attractive she felt warmer just looking at him.
She hadn’t been following the conversation, so it took her off guard when they all turned to her.
“I’m so sorry about your can,” Honor blurted.
He stared down at her, first at her eyes, then at her mouth. “It survived.”
Getting closer to the men emphasized the differences in their sizes. At five-six, Honor was a whole lot shorter than all of them. “I can buy you a new one.” Although, truth be told, she was pretty tapped at the moment. Hopefully he wouldn’t want it replaced today.
“It’s a decade old and has been beat up before.”
“Then I should at least help Colt pick up—”
“He’s done,” Hogan told her. “Now he’s just texting friends.”
“Girlfriends, I bet,” Lexie said.
But Hogan shook his head. “He misses our old neighborhood. He hasn’t quite settled in here yet.”
Honor looked and sure enough, Colt stood beside the can, his thumbs working over a cell phone.
Jason held out a hand. “So we’re neighbors?”
Her toes curled in her shoes and her pulse fluttered. Trying to hide her reaction at the prospect of touching him, she smiled. “Seems so.”
His large, work-rough hand took her much smaller one, and she froze.
Good grief, you’d think I’d never been touched before.
With her voice too high, Honor asked, “Will I be meeting your wife?”
“Not married.” He released her slowly. “You?”
“We’re both single,” Lexie offered fast.
Jason glanced at the truck with yet another frown. “You’re both moving in?”
“Just me.” New enthusiasm bubbled up. And her palm still tingled from his touch. “Lexie insisted on coming along to help with the heavy things.”
Dubious, both he and Hogan glanced at Lexie.
“I’m having second thoughts,” Lexie said. “I mean...is that place habitable?”
“I’d say no,” Jason answered, his fingers rubbing the whiskers on his jaw. “But here you are.” He stepped around Honor and opened the back of the truck to see her small sofa and chairs, little dinette set, bedroom furniture, plants and a whole lot of boxes.
Behind him, Hogan laughed. “So you two were going to unload all this?”
Lexie elbowed her way past him. “Why not? We got it in there.”
A partial truth. She and Lexie had loaded all the boxes, but her old roommates had supplied their boyfriends to get the heavier stuff inside. They’d tired of her constant late-night runs and were probably happy to see her go. Lending a hand only helped speed up the process.
“No way,” Colt said as he rejoined them. “You’re both so little.”
“I have a furniture dolly.” Honor pointed at the folding metal moving contraption in the corner of the truck that she had hoped would make it easier to get everything unloaded. “The truck rental place recommended it, and it really did come in handy.” When moving the boxes.
Hands on his hips, Jason studied everything. “The dolly won’t help you with a couch.”
“We could do it,” Colt said.
Incredibly he sounded hopeful. But Honor had just met them all. No way could she ask for their help and she didn’t want Colt putting his uncle on the spot. “It’s fine, really.” Having no real idea, she swore, “We can get it all, no problem.”
Ignoring her protests, Jason squinted from the sun and asked Colt, “You didn’t make plans?”
“With who? I don’t know anyone here.”
Honor felt for the young man. She’d been uprooted once herself, and it had sucked. “How long have you lived here?”
“About