character, so she was going with it.
After the chapter, she had taken a break to look through résumés for virtual assistants, but right when she was about to email one, the doorbell rang. As usual, the sound sent an arrow of nerves through her, despite the fact that she knew doorbells rang in neighborhoods all day long. Packages, people hawking services, people preaching their religion of choice. It was a world of activity the nine-to-fivers were never aware of. But even so, her mind automatically shifted from green to yellow alert. With a sigh, she pushed herself away from her desk and went to the front door to check the peephole.
But it wasn’t a delivery from the UPS guy. Instead, a familiar face greeted her. One she was beginning to get used to. She unlocked everything and swung open the door.
Colby smiled from beneath the brim of a Billy Bob’s cap. “Hey, neighbor.”
“Hey,” she said, returning his smile. “What’s up?”
“Sorry to interrupt. I’m sure you’re working, but I wanted to give you a heads-up instead of just going for it,” he explained.
She tilted her head as she tried to decipher his meaning. “Going for it?”
Colby cocked his thumb to the left and another man walked up her front steps to join Colby. “This is my friend Keats. Keats, Georgia.”
Her gaze jumped to the newcomer, any stranger stirring distrust in her. But she realized it was Colby’s houseguest. The guy had tied his hair back with a rubber band, but there was no mistaking the sleeves of tattoos that covered his arms. It was something Georgia wouldn’t normally find herself drawn to. She’d never had a bad-boy complex. Okay, maybe she’d harbored a brief crush on David Beck-ham once upon a time. Whatever. But hell if it didn’t look exactly right on this guy. This very beautiful guy.
Eyes the color of sea glass met hers, but he didn’t offer a handshake, his hands staying firmly tucked in his front pockets. “Good to meet you, Georgia.”
His voice was deeper than she expected, melodic with a dash of Deep South drawl, like liquefied butter. She wondered if he sang as well as played that guitar he’d been carrying last night. She had the urge to demand he sing a few notes of something. “Same here.”
“So,” Colby said, putting a hand on Keats’s shoulder. “I’m lending Keats’s services and mine today to help you get your yard back in shape.”
“What?” she said, looking between the two of them. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I’ve been working on it. You don’t need to put yourself out—”
“Well, actually,” Colby said, “you’d be helping us out. I’m on a break from work and being bored drives me nuts. And Keats owes me a favor and is happy to work it off here. But I wanted to make sure you were okay with that because it’s your yard.”
She licked her lips. This was so out of her comfort zone, but the guys would only be in her yard. And she knew Colby well enough to know that he wouldn’t let someone he didn’t trust around. “I—well, I guess I could use the help.”
“Fantastic.” Colby grinned, and even Keats managed a hint of a smile. “I’m going to leave Keats here to start pulling the trampled stuff out of the flower beds while I run over to the garden center to grab some new flowers. I know a guy there who will give me a good price.”
“Colby, you don’t have to—” she started.
He held up a hand. “Not a problem. I’m no longer convinced this wasn’t some of my students. We’re the only two houses that got hit on the block, and another teacher texted me this morning saying her yard had been trashed, too, so I feel partially responsible.”
“It’s not your fault—even if it was your students.”
Keats sniffed. “Colby has a tendency to feel responsible for his students’ behavior. I’m not sure there’s any convincing him otherwise.”
Colby’s smile went flat, and Georgia’s eyebrows lifted at the instant shift in mood. There was a story there, but it wasn’t her business. “Okay, I guess I’ll just say thank you, then.”
“You’re welcome,” Colby said, his good humor returning, and just like the night before, he leaned over and pecked her on the cheek.
She was still standing there slightly stunned when he jogged down her front steps, gave her a wave, and headed to his truck. When he pulled away, she was left standing there with Keats, a perfect stranger. For some reason, she couldn’t muster up any true concern. He was a few years younger than she was but taller and obviously fit, so he could easily be a threat to her. But there was something deep in her gut that told her he meant no harm.
“So,” Keats said, breaking the awkward silence, “I have some of Colby’s gardening stuff. I can go ahead and get started if you’re down with that.”
She cleared her throat. “Sounds good, just give me a sec and I’ll get changed so that I can help.”
His gaze slid over her gray thermal shirt and jeans, male appreciation flickering in them before he could hide it. “It’s okay. You don’t have to get dirty again on my account. We saw you working out here earlier. I don’t mind flying solo.”
His little flare of interest surprised her after what she’d witnessed last night. She’d figured he was into guys. It also surprised her how much it pleased her to be on the receiving end of it. Especially considering the man who’d just left was who she couldn’t stop thinking about—or watching. But regardless, she suddenly didn’t want to go back and sit alone in her office. The completely out-of-character urge made a little flutter of adrenaline go through her—a happy one. Maybe the baby steps were working.
“How ’bout this?” she said, feeling a seed of confidence for the first time in a while. “I’ll go make us some iced tea, you get to work, and then you can tell me how you know Colby.”
His lazy smile made her stomach tighten a little. Damn, this one could probably singe the panties off a girl if he turned on the charm full throttle. “I’m not sure that’s a story you want to know. But I won’t turn down the company.”
“Deal.”
She told him she’d be a few minutes and went back into the house to brew some tea. When she came back out, Keats was already on his knees in her front garden, pulling crushed plants from the beds with hands that looked used to hard work. He hadn’t noticed her come back out yet, so she gave herself a moment to admire.
Keats wasn’t brawny like Colby, but she could tell he was strong, the muscles on his arms working as he pulled at the roots of the plants. And where Colby was dark scruff, Keats was smooth and golden. Not baby-faced but definitely a glimmer of youth still lurking there. If not for the wariness in his eyes, the ink, and those battered hands, Georgia’s starved libido probably would’ve labeled Keats as too young and too pretty. But when those few edges were added to the mix, she found herself unable to drag her gaze away.
He glanced up, shading his eyes with his hand. “Everything all right?”
“Huh?”
“You have a funny expression on your face.”
Ha. Yes, the expression was called inappropriately turned on by a complete stranger. She cleared her throat and shook her head. Her lack of sex life was officially making her crazy. “Everything’s fine, just got lost in thought for a sec.”
She walked over and set the glass of tea near him and gave him a pair of gardening gloves, then settled onto the porch steps so he didn’t feel like she was hovering over him.
He wiped his hands on a rag and took a long pull from the glass, his throat working in a rhythm that made her forget not to stare again. When he lowered the glass, he smiled over the rim. “Thanks for this. I haven’t had fresh-brewed stuff in a while. I sometimes bring the bottled kind on jobs, but it’s not the same.”
She turned sideways and leaned against