card. “And if anything spooks you, anything at all, call.”
“I’m not helpless. I can take care of myself.”
She said that so defiantly that he almost smiled. “Sure. But if you just need a hand with something, any heavy lifting, we’re right next door.”
“Muscle for hire?”
The smile cracked, and from that came a laugh. “You do seem to pick and choose what you hear and don’t hear.”
She looked at his mouth, and sighed. “I heard all of it. I’ll consider the dog once I have the yard ready. I don’t know enough about guns to get one.”
“I imagine Nathan could teach you.”
“Three guys right next door, and a sheriff next door to them. How much safer could it get?”
She was cute when she teased. Maybe he should tell her about Sullivan across the street. Talk about a badass...but no. He wasn’t going to do Sullivan’s work for him.
“The other side of your property butts up to woods. No lights. Wild animals.”
She scoffed. “Wild animals, huh?”
“Middle of the night, when you hear noises you don’t recognize, or maybe even gunfire nearby, no one is going to seem close enough.”
“Now you’re just trying to scare me.”
True. She needed to stay alert. Because he watched her, he could almost see her thinking as she put the business card on the refrigerator with a flower-shaped magnet. She turned pensive, too quiet.
“I mean it,” he said, drawing her out again. “If you need anything—”
“No.” All too serious, she laced her fingers together and looked up at him. “You’re really nice. I mean...really nice. All of you are. And I appreciate it. What we got done today would have taken me at least a week on my own. I’d been hopeful of just getting unloaded and getting my bed together so I’d have a place to sleep tonight.”
His thoughts veered in directions that they shouldn’t, thoughts that included her and a bed. Fewer clothes. Less talk.
“Before buying the house, I lived with roommates. Four of us in a small apartment. And before that I lived with a relative.”
Relative—not parents? He wondered about that, but then she continued explaining.
“I’m happy to be on my own. You don’t have to worry that I’ll impose on you, not for any reason.” She rocked to her heels a little, her fingers laced tightly, looking uncertain, self-conscious. “I’m grateful for the offer of a helping hand, and as reassuring as it is to know there’s backup so close by, I want to do this, the rest of it, on my own. It’s important to me.”
Yeah, it had been important to him, too, so he understood. But understanding and believing she could do it were two different things. She lacked muscles, yet much of what needed to be done would be labor intensive, work that included heavy lifting, pulling and endurance. Given her clumsiness with the dolly, he doubted she knew her way around the toolshed. What her house needed would require more than a hammer or a screwdriver.
To be sure, he asked, “You have experience with remodeling?”
“No. But I’m not dumb. I can read instructions.”
Instructions wouldn’t really cut it, but rather than belabor the point, he merely nodded. “Let’s go eat.” He’d be glad to get that part of it over with. Whether his brother or nephew realized it, Honor Brown was going to be trouble. With her next door, their peaceful bachelor existence would soon be shot to hell.
Honor bit her lip. Her gaze dipped down to his chest, then shot back to his face. Her eyes were big and innocent when she said, “Only if you put on a shirt. Because otherwise, I just can’t do it.”
Jason sighed. And so it began.
HONOR WASN’T USED to eating with three men. It astounded her how fast the pizza got devoured. But then, she’d pretty much inhaled her own slice, too. Working up a hunger, it seemed, overshadowed other concerns—like feeling self-conscious and knowing she was an intruder despite their efforts to put her at ease.
They all chatted easily, except for Jason, who seemed introspective. He’d gone from staring to teasing, to warning, and now quiet.
At first she’d worried that she might have offended him. But how? Not by asking that he wear a shirt, because that was a request he’d ignored.
The man was still half-naked.
And it couldn’t have been from accepting his help, because he was the one who’d bullied his way in and insisted on...being wonderful.
She rubbed at her temples. When she’d thought about neighbors, she never imagined any like these.
“You okay?” Colt asked.
A fast smile, meant to reassure him, only amplified the headache. “Yes. Just a little tired.”
“She works too much.” Lexie shoulder-bumped her. “I’ve tried to get her to play a little, too, but she’s the original party pooper.”
Lexie, at least, seemed right at home. But then she always did. Confident, beautiful and fun—that described Honor’s best friend.
They were polar opposites.
As if she’d known the guys forever, Lexie had heckled Hogan, teased Colt and praised Jason. She also repeatedly put her head back and drew in deep breaths, closing her eyes as she did so. With the scents of freshly mowed lawn, earth, flowers and trees all around them, Honor understood her reaction. Jason’s backyard was a half acre, same as hers. But while hers was nearly impassable with weeds, his was park perfect.
A gigantic elm kept them shaded, and with the help of an occasional gentle breeze, the summer day became more comfortable. Honor glanced around at the neatly mulched flower beds, the velvet green grass and the well-maintained outdoor furniture. His garage was spectacular, matching his house. Every so often she caught the faint scent of oil, gasoline and sawdust.
She also smelled sun-warmed, hardworking male. Not at all unpleasant.
“Where do you work?” Colt asked.
“She’s a stylist,” Lexie offered. With a nod at Jason, she said, “Honor could do all sorts of amazing things with your hair.”
Honor choked on her last drink of Coke.
Unaffected, Jason ran a hand through the dark waves. “I have a barber but don’t make it there as often as I should.”
“He’s always working,” Colt said. “He’s usually out there in the garage before Dad and I even get out of bed.”
“Good thing messy looks so sexy on him, then, huh?”
Colt laughed. “If you say so.”
“I do.” Lexie half turned to face the garage. “You guys have a lot of vehicles.”
“The blue truck is mine,” Colt told her. “Dad drives the motorcycle. Or when it rains, he takes the Escort. Uncle Jason has his own truck, the red newer one, and the gray SUV. The flatbed truck he uses for deliveries.”
Wow. Honor glanced over and saw that the two-story garage also housed a fishing boat on a trailer and another, older truck parked front and center.
“Who drives that one?” Lexie asked.
With something close to hero worship, Colt said, “Uncle Jason was hired to work on it.”
“Hired?”
“Yeah, that’s what he does. He fixes things. He’s really good, too. All these