The string of curses that ran through Tanner’s mind would have earned him a pair of boxed ears from his grandmother. His hot out-of-towner hookup was his neighbor?
“You’re moving here?” he asked dumbly, staring back at her in shock.
“Correction: I’ve moved here. Past tense.” She looked no more pleased about it than he was.
How the hell could this be? She drove a car with New York plates. She’d been staying at the local motel. Hell, she talked like a damn Kennedy. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling as though he’d been set up. “You’re complaining that I didn’t tell you I was a former rodeo competitor, when you didn’t see fit to tell me that you were fixing to put down stakes here?”
She bit her lip and tightened her grip on the wooden handle. “It didn’t come up,” she said, half defensive, half sheepish.
“Yeah, well, neither did my former profession.” He jammed the rake back into the display. “Perhaps because it’s ‘past tense’ as well. Your moving to Sunnybell seems much more relevant.”
“You’re right, it is. You know why?” She raised both eyebrows, daring him to answer. He knew better than to take the bait, and waited silently for her to continue, which she did almost immediately. “Because I don’t want all my new coworkers making a habit of demanding details of my private life so they can get all the juicy details about what it’s like to go to bed with Callen the Stallion.”
Tanner nearly choked on thin air. There was a term he hadn’t heard in years. His idiot friend Mack had thought it was hilarious to tease him with it back when they were on the circuit together, but the damn name had followed him back home somehow. He’d have to remember to thank his friend.
“You may be new here,” he said, pointing at her before jabbing his finger at his own chest, “but I’ve spent my whole adult life avoiding being gossiped about. If I’d have known you were here to stay, I’d never have said two words to you.”
She frowned. “What a lovely sentiment. Unfortunately, neither one of us can go back in time and un-ring that bell, so I suggest we just pretend that night never happened.”
Tanner straightened, the comment hitting him all wrong. “Beg your pardon?”
He wasn’t any happier about the situation than she was, but damned if he was going to pretend that they hadn’t just about singed the sheets with the sparks flying between them. She was acting like nothing had happened, but he remembered every minute they’d spent pressed against each other.
“It was a mistake,” she said, shaking her head. “A stupid decision that I wish I could undo. Since that option’s off the table, the next best thing is to forget we ever set eyes on each other in the first place.”
He may have been poised to hightail it out of there like a deer in a hunter’s sights not two minutes ago, but now? He planted his feet more firmly. His pride wasn’t about to let her get away with pretending that their time together hadn’t been about as charged as a lightning rod in a thunderstorm. He wouldn’t have allowed things to happen as they had if he’d known she was here to stay, but he damn sure wasn’t about to deny it now. And he could be right stubborn when he put his mind to something.
“I’m not sure that’s possible, seeing how we’re to be neighbors. And you know what? I was raised to be nothing if not neighborly,” he drawled, sending her a lazy half smile. Stepping toward her, he grabbed the rake in her hands and tugged.
Taken off guard, she stumbled forward, stopping only inches from him.
He continued, his voice low and seductive. “So, neighbor, how ’bout I lend you a hand. Show you how this here rake works?”
The familiar sizzle of chemistry zinged between them, surprising him with its intensity. Her lips parted as her chest rose and fell with her suddenly fast breathing. In that moment, he remembered every kiss, every gasp, every satisfied sigh she’d breathed that night.
Damn. He should have walked away when he had the chance. Because God help him, it was too late now.
In her defense, she really hated yard work.
Nibbling her bottom lip, Madeline stood in the small wood-paneled kitchen of her rental house, watching the half-naked man raking her yard with a vengeance. No, there was no defense. He’d pulled her close, with challenge burning in those Tiffany-blue eyes, and she’d folded like a cheap card table.
Holding her head high, she’d said, “If you wish to dabble in unpaid landscaping, be my guest.” To which he’d grinned, grabbed her rake, and headed for the checkout.
And everything had been fine until the shirt had come off.
Why did it have to be so hot here, anyway? It was November, for Pete’s sake. Sweater weather. The time for boots and cute coats and pumpkin spice lattes. Leave it to Texas to have a November day hot enough to make her sweat. Well, technically it was making him sweat, causing the shirt removal, which in turn caused her to sweat, but still, it was the weather’s fault.
She sighed. Fine—it was her fault, too. She should have been smart enough to tell him where he could put that rake and his knowing smiles, but, well, back to those eyes and her hatred of yard work. Vicious cycle, really.
He paused to swipe his arm over his forehead, and she did what any good friend would do: she snapped a quick picture and texted it to Aisha and Brianna. The immediate, drooling responses she received from both of them made her laugh out loud.
Setting her phone down, she leaned against the window frame and watched as he bent over and gathered up an armful of yard debris and stuffed it into a bag beside him. It was impossible not to notice the way the sunshine gleamed off his skin, outlining each and every contour.
When Tanner straightened, he glanced over to catch her watching him. She jerked to attention and backed away from the window, spilling half her drink down her shirt in the process. She cursed and grabbed the dish towel from the counter, mopping up as much as she could from her shirt before turning her attention to the floor.
This was not like her. She did not go around staring at shirtless men and tripping over her feet like some sort of clumsy schoolgirl. She was a smart, savvy businesswoman who had taken a half decade’s worth of ballet in her formative years so that she’d learn to move gracefully. She absolutely refused to be undone by a man who she knew was only working in her yard to prove some sort of point.
And yes, she knew exactly how convoluted that sounded.
The hollow knock of knuckles on the aluminum storm door rang out, and she looked up to see Tanner standing on the other side. His loose grin and bright eyes made it seem like he knew every thought she’d had about him over the last hour, which immediately put her on the defensive.
Straightening, she walked to the door, crossing her arms over the damp spot on her shirt. “Need something?”
He set a hand to his flat stomach and lifted an eyebrow. “Awful thirsty.”
It was like he knew his abs were her own personal kryptonite. She forced her gaze not to stray from his eyes. “You’re in luck,” she said brightly. “I’ve arranged for an endless supply of cool, crystal-clear water just for you.” She nodded toward the hose.
He didn’t move, and actually seemed a little amused. “A man could use a cold beer on a day like this.”
“I agree completely. Why don’t you grab yourself one on the way home. You’ve definitely earned it.” She gave him her most impersonal smile.
“Not exactly what I had in mind,” he drawled, pushing his hat up an inch with his thumb. A lock of dark, damp hair fell across his forehead.
“I know, but life is disappointing sometimes. Thanks for the help, though. I do appreciate it.” Nodding once, she closed the door.
There. See? She could resist him. And she could definitely resist the effect his presence in her life had on her work persona. Whenever she felt herself softening, she needed to remember the looks on her coworkers’ faces yesterday. She hoped she’d never feel that sort of mortification again, let alone at her workplace.
She’d allowed herself to be drawn in by his challenging gaze, but hoped disappointing him now would put an end to whatever might happen between them.
Two hours later, she’d scrubbed every last greasy morsel from the kitchen until it was finally to the point where the thought of walking barefoot on the 1970s linoleum didn’t gross her out. Her back ached, her fingers were tired, and the smell of bleach seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her nose. Tossing her yellow gloves in the sink, she stood and stretched. One room would have to be enough for the day.
Out of the corner of her eye, movement snagged her attention. She started to walk over to the window but came to an abrupt halt, her mouth dropping open.
What in the world? Her yard was immaculate. All the weeds, scrabbly brush, and debris were completely gone. It was neat as a pin, as though someone hadn’t completely neglected it for the past five years or so. But…she’d thought it would have taken days to tackle that mess. Moreover, she’d assumed Tanner had packed up and left after she’d shut the door on him.
But he’d stayed. He’d finished it. Why?
Madeline saw the movement again and glanced to the right. Her stomach flipped. There stood her yard-hero cowboy, sweat-stained, exhausted-looking, and gulping water from the hose as though he hadn’t had a drink in days. She looked back to the spotless yard. She couldn’t believe he’d worked so hard for her, especially after the frosty way she’d treated him.
She groaned, her nose wrinkled in distaste. Crap. She had no choice but to go make nice with the man now. The very thought made her blood pump faster. Taking a deep, bracing breath, she opened the door and headed outside.