about. This could totally be the year she branched out and learned how to make more than five dishes with any kind of confidence.
More little boy shrieks sounded behind her, and she rose unhurriedly to her feet. Better to let Noah and Kyle get the energy out now, before dinner and bath time, than end up chasing two naked and slippery little boys around the house right as they should be getting ready for bed.
But then the shrieks were followed by war whoops, and not all of them were in her sons’ young voices. In fact, a few of the whoops sounded distinctly masculine—deep and rumbly. Since they were followed by a bunch of laughter—and loud cries of “no surrender” from her sons, she figured she’d better go investigate. Hopefully her children hadn’t made enemies of the new neighbor quite yet. Usually it took them a week or two.
Although, judging from the sound of it, this one had a pretty decent sense of humor. Which would be a nice change of pace from the last tenant. He had had nothing but contempt for Sophie’s boys and though she’d done her best to keep them away from him, she hadn’t always succeeded. She tried to keep them in the backyard most of the time, but every once in a while they’d burst into the front. Inevitably, their escape to the front yard had always coincided with Reece’s trip to get his newspaper or take out the trash or go for his daily jog.
More shrieks sounded, these ones louder and more high-pitched than the ones that had come before. Sophie broke into a run.
By the time she got to the high hedge that separated her yard from her neighbor’s, the boys shrieks had turned to giggles. It soothed the panic that had raced through her at the sound of their distress, but still, she wasn’t going to be happy until she saw them.
Scooting through the hedge, she ignored the way the branches ripped at her old gardening T-shirt and scanned her neighbor’s yard for her sons. She didn’t see them at first and her fear roared back, but then they came flying around the house, their water guns held in clear attack mode, even as they retreated.
Amused, she watched as they dove behind a huge tree. They were small and skinny enough that she could only see their bright red-and-blue weapons. Water guns that were supposed to be in the pool bag and not in use in her neighbor’s yard.
Seconds later, the new neighbor came around the corner of the house after them. He wasn’t moving as fast as they were, but he was still booking it. In his hands was a large bucket, obviously filled with water. And it looked like he wasn’t afraid to use it.
Perhaps Noah and Kyle had finally met their match.
And what a beautiful match he was. The wet, clinging material of his blue T-shirt revealed a heavily muscled chest. His dark hair was shaggy in that way that only a really expensive hair stylist could manage and his jeans, though ripped at the knees, fit his long, muscular thighs like a second skin. She couldn’t see what color his eyes were from this distance, but she was betting they were the same blue as his shirt. And his broad smile was lighting up his entire face.
Deep inside, she responded to that smile. Even as she told her hormones to settle down and behave, that she wanted no part of this man or any other, a strange, unfamiliar heat burned deep in her stomach. Try as she did to ignore it—as she tended to do with most unwelcome things—Sophie couldn’t help wondering if a guy who looked like that, and who obviously had a decent sense of humor, was still single.
Before she could tell herself it was none of her business, the battle started up with renewed energy. Spotting her sons across the yard, the man ran toward them and was hit, full face, with double streams of water. Instead of getting angry, he laughed and continued his pursuit. But the bucket in his hands was sloshing and spilling a little bit with each uneven step.
So he was injured, or he had been. Either way, he was limping and she couldn’t help wondering how it had happened. Was he a veteran like her husband had been? And like Jeff, had he been injured in the war?
The thought made her guard drop even more, as did the way he handled it when her children leaped out from behind the tree and let him have it, lock, stock and barrel. Instead of getting mad like most people would—even when Noah nailed him in the eye—he just took the soaking. Then, when his opportunity came, he sent the water in the bucket soaring straight at them. Kyle was quicker than his older brother and managed to get out of the soak zone in time, but Noah took the water head on.
She barely suppressed a laugh at Kyle’s smirk of satisfaction and Noah’s whoop of shock—and glee—as the cold water hit him. He took off running, squishing with every step, and she knew the war was far from done.
Deciding she wanted in on the action, Sophie hurried back to her own house and turned on the hose. Then, stealthily creeping through the hedge, she snuck across the yard straight toward her boys, who were too busy taunting the neighbor to notice.
He must have seen her coming, but gave nothing away, so that when she pressed the valve on the hose nozzle and opened fire on her kids from behind, they were completely shocked.
Shrieks of delight filled the air as they whirled on her, slamming her with stream after stream of water. But they were no match for her mighty hose—or the neighbor’s refilled bucket—and soon the sounds of their surrender rang through the yard.
With a laugh, she reached forward and brushed a hand over Kyle’s sodden hair before doing the same to Noah.
“We’ll get you next time, Mom!”
“I have no doubt. You would have gotten me this time if I hadn’t had the aid of our new neighbor.” She looked at him, then realized with a jolt that she’d been wrong about the eyes. They weren’t blue. They were a rich, dark amber. She liked them, especially how this glint of amusement and mischief could coexist with that shell-shocked survivor look he, and so many veterans, wore.
Definitely a soldier, she thought, as she extended a hand toward him. “Hi, I’m Sophie Connors. Mother of these two hoodlums-in-training and your next-door neighbor. It’s nice to meet you.”
He hesitated for a second, then his hand came up to clasp hers. His grip wasn’t as firm as she would have expected from such a muscled arm, but when she glanced down and saw scars marring the skin, she understood why.
Injured hand, injured leg. This man had been through the ringer. And judging from the freshness of the scars, it had been a recent deployment and homecoming.
“I’m Jack Alexander,” he said in a deep voice that she couldn’t help liking the sound of.
“It’s nice to meet you, Jack.” She placed a hand on both of her son’s shoulders. “And these two water warriors are Noah and Kyle. Thank you so much for putting up with their troublemaking.”
He grinned, revealing even, white teeth. “They’re not troublemakers. A little high-spirited maybe, but they’re great fun to be around.”
“I think so.” She returned his smile. It was impossible not to like a man who so obviously liked her children. “Welcome to the neighborhood. If you need anything, please let me know.”
“Thanks.” He didn’t say anything else.
As the moment stretched, she gestured toward her house. “Time to come in, boys. Dinner should be almost ready.” With a little wave, she turned to go. But she’d only made it a few steps, her boys running ahead of her, before she felt compelled to turn back. “You’re welcome to come to dinner. Kind of an apology and welcoming, all in one? It’s nothing special, but if you’re interested, we’d love to have you.”
He took a little while to answer, longer than was strictly considered polite. She didn’t blame him, though. Her boys took a little getting used to and, now that she’d impulsively issued the invitation, she was aware of how it probably looked. Single mom on the prowl for hot new neighbor. Could she be more of a cliché?
Except she wasn’t on the prowl. Not even close. She felt a little sorry for him. A vet, freshly injured and back from war, trying to put his life back together. It couldn’t be easy. He deserved a home-cooked meal, one he didn’t have to put together himself.