Honey and the Hitman

by Hannah Murray

  “She’s something, isn’t she?” He started across the street, Ethan falling in step beside him. “Eighty-seven years old, cantankerous as an old tomcat and twice as mean.”

  Ethan opened his mouth, then shut it again. There was no way to respond to that without sounding like an ass, so he wasn’t even going to try.

  “She was my wife’s aunt,” Jacob went on as he stepped up onto the sidewalk. “She raised Rose when her parents passed unexpectedly, even though she was hardly more than a girl herself. When Rose got cancer, and it was clear she wasn’t going to get better, she made me promise I’d look out for Hazel after she was gone. Crazy old bat won’t take charity, so I made her my receptionist.”

  “That’s… admirable,” Ethan decided.

  Jacob shot him a sorrowful look as they strode into the Main Street Diner. “I never thought she’d live this long.”

  Ethan choked on a laugh as Jacob smiled at a passing waitress nearly bent double by the weight of her tray. “Where do you want us, Missy?”

  “Pick a booth, any booth,” came the reply as Missy shifted to unload plates. The burgers were thick as bricks, Ethan noted, and the fries were plentiful and steaming hot. “Be with you in two shakes.”

  “This work for you?” Jacob asked, pointing to a booth in front of the wide window that fronted Main Street.

  Ethan eyed the window, knowing the back of his neck was going to itch the whole time they were sitting there, in full view of anyone passing by. “Sure.”

  “Great.” Jacob settled himself in the booth with a sigh, and Ethan slid in on the other side.

  “Menu’s there,” Jacob said with a nod, and Ethan turned to see the laminated sheet sticking out from between the napkin holder and the bottle of ketchup. “But I can tell you right now, the burger’s your best bet.”

  “That works for me,” Ethan said, just as Missy strode up to the booth. She set two glasses of ice water down on the table and pulled a small spiral notebook from her apron pocket.

  “The usual, Jacob?” she asked, popping her gum. She was a little wisp of a thing, barely five feet tall and skinny, with sunburned cheeks and dark curling hair bound up in a bouncy ponytail that reminded him of Honey.

  “Yes, please,” Jacob said. “My friend here will have the same. What do you like on your burger, Ethan?”

  “Whatever comes on it is fine,” Ethan told her.

  “You got it,” she said. “To drink?”

  He started to order a Coke, then paused. “Do you have milkshakes?”

  “Best in town,” she assured him.

  “A chocolate milkshake, then.” He smiled at her. “Thanks.”

  She snapped her gum and made a note on her order pad. “No problem. You want whipped cream on that?”

  “What’s the point otherwise?”

  She shot him a wink. “I heard that.”

  Jacob chuckled as she walked away. “You’re in for a treat. They really do make the best milkshake in town. So, how angry are you at Winnie for maneuvering you into this?”

  Ethan stared at Jacob for a moment, nonplused, then sat back with a laugh. “Picked up on that, did you?”

  “Not from you, no.” Jacob picked up his tableware and began to unwrap the paper napkin bundled around the utensils. “Winnie? She’s not as subtle as she thinks she is.”

  Ethan picked up his water. “She’s not?”

  “Normally, she’s slick as camel spit,” Jacob said, chuckling when Ethan choked. “But she’s worried she crossed a line, going behind your back, so she’s a little off her game.”

  Ethan swiped the back of his hand over his chin. “That explains why she was up and out of the house before I came down this morning.”

  “She’s not dumb,” Jacob said admiringly. “So? How mad?”

  “Less than I was last night,” Ethan admitted. “I realized something while I was plotting my revenge.”

  “What’s that?”

  Ethan sighed. “I’ll go crazy around here with nothing to do all summer.”

  “I know the feeling. I could’ve retired five years ago, moved to Florida, and taken up shuffleboard. But that kind of thing ages a man, and I’d rather stay busy. ‘Course, I could always quit the business and devote all my time to doing the horizontal mambo with Winnie. That’d keep me plenty busy.”

  “Oh God, not you too,” Ethan groaned, and Jacob roared with laughter.

  “Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” he said when Ethan bent forward to bang his head on the table.

  “Um. Is something wrong?

  “Don’t worry about him, Missy. He’s just adjusting his expectations.”

  Ethan glanced up to see Missy standing uncertainly by the booth, a cautious look on her face. He worked up a smile as he sat back. “Sorry,” he told her. “Rough morning.”

  “Oh. Well, then you came to the right place. One of these will set it right again in no time,” she informed him and put a tall, frosted glass in front of him. The chocolate shake formed a mini mountain, topped with a froth of whipped cream and a bright maraschino cherry. She laid a straw next to the glass. “Might want to give it a minute before you try the straw,” she advised. “Bud makes them thick enough to lay brick.”

  Ethan eyed the long-handled spoon tucked in the shake; it stood straight up. “It looks great. Thanks, Missy.”

  “You enjoy, now. Burgers should be up in a few.”

  Jacob eyed the shake with naked envy before shifting to look Ethan in the eye. “So. What do you think about the job?”

  Ethan worked the spoon free and scooped up some whipped cream. “I do have some construction experience, but it’s been five years since I picked up a hammer.”

  “As long as you can follow directions and keep your fingers out of the way of the saw, you’ll do fine. The question is, do you want to?”

  “Yeah.” Surprised to find it was true, Ethan laid down his spoon. “Yeah, I do. But I don’t want to take a job from someone who needs one.”

  Jacob waved a hand. “You’re not. My insurance says I can’t hire anyone under twenty-one, and it pays too little for anyone else to be interested.”

  “I don’t need the money,” Ethan began.

  “You work for me, you get paid,” Jacob said, and the iron in his tone told Ethan that point was non-negotiable. “What you do with the money is up to you.”

  Missy reappeared and set a plate in front of each of them. Thick, juicy burgers, crisp, golden fries, and a fat, whole pickle. Ethan inhaled deeply, his stomach rumbling at the scent. “Oh, yeah.”

  Missy beamed at him. “Enjoy.”

  Jacob sighed with pleasure and picked up his burger. “I only get one of these a week. Damn high cholesterol.”

  Ethan raised a brow at the burger, fairly dripping with delicious, artery-clogging grease. “You sure you should be having even one?”

  “You sound like Winnie,” he muttered, then paused with the burger halfway to his mouth. “You’re not going to tell her, are you?”

  Ethan smothered a grin as he bit into his burger, then moaned in pure sensory delight. “God, that’s good.”

  Jacob nodded, his mouth full. When he swallowed, he said, “Seriously, please don’t tell her.”

  “Your secret is safe with me,” Ethan told him, and tried a French fry. “Though how you keep from eating here every day is beyond me.”

  “Healthy fear of female wrath,” Jacob said succinctly, and grinned when Ethan snorted. “When can you start?”

  Ethan shrugged as he picked up his straw, jabbed it end first on the table until it punched through the wrapper. “Anytime, really. Tell me about the projects you’ve got scheduled.”

  “Well, the Timmerson’s master bathroom is getting a facelift, but that’s almost down to punch out.” Jacob laid down his burger and leaned back to frown at the ceiling. “We’re doing a new deck for Caroline Havers. She got the house in the divorce, and I get the impression the new deck is her way of giving her ex the finger.”

  “Expens
ive finger,” Ethan commented. Since the shake was still too thick to move through the straw, he picked up the spoon again.

  “Apparently, he wanted to put one up for years, but she never gave him the green light. Now she’s using her alimony check to build the deck of his dreams.” He shook his head. “Hard to blame her, considering.”

  “Considering?”

  “She caught him doing his marital duty in her sister’s bed. On their wedding anniversary.”

  Ethan’s brows rose. “Sounds like deck vengeance is the least of what he deserves.”

  “I wouldn’t disagree.” Jacob sipped his water. “Then we’re slated to put an addition on the Meyers house, but that’s not starting until July. We’re adding a bedroom and a bath, so there’s a little bit of everything involved.”

  He shrugged. “That’s the big stuff off the top of my head, though I’d need to double-check the calendar to make sure. Oh, and Honey wants us to put a dog door in for her, but that’s barely a morning’s work. I’ll take care of that myself this weekend.”

  “The Honey who lives behind Aunt Winnie?”

  “Only Honey I know.” A subtle gleam lit Jacob’s eye. “You’ve met, I understand.”

  Ethan stabbed the spoon into his shake to try to loosen up the ice cream. “Yeah.”

  “Lovely girl, isn’t she?”

  Ethan shook his head. “I should’ve known she’d pull you in.”

  “What?”

  Ethan had to give him credit. The air of confused innocence was nearly believable. “I’ll make you a deal, Jacob. I’ll keep your weekly burger habit a secret from Aunt Winnie, and you stay out of the matchmaking business.”

  Jacob managed to hold onto his look of confusion for a few moments, then broke into a grin. “That’s a deal. Though I have to warn you, Winnie’s got her teeth into it.”

  “I’ll deal with her.”

  “Famous last words, but okay.” Jacob picked up his burger again. “We’re starting the deck the day after tomorrow. Think you can be ready to go by then?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I can make that work.”

  “Great.” Jacob picked up his water glass and held it up. “Welcome to Dunbar Construction.”

  Amused, resigned, Ethan raised his milkshake and tapped his glass against Jacob’s.

  * * *

  He managed to polish off the burger and fries but had to take most of the milkshake to go. It was melted enough by the time he got home, new employee paperwork in hand, that he was finally able to drink it from the straw.

  Jacob was right; it was a hell of a milkshake.

  He pulled the truck into the drive, noting Winnie’s vintage yellow VW Bug was still missing. He climbed out, sucking on his milkshake as he walked up to the house. He was up the steps and crossing the porch when he realized he wasn’t alone.

  He jerked around, reaching once again for the pistol that wasn’t there. The visitor, sprawled out under the porch swing, watched him from liquid brown eyes. Ethan’s muttered curse was met with a disinterested yawn.

  “You’re lucky I stopped carrying, pal,” he murmured, and the dog rolled, unconcerned, belly up. His long tail wagged, thumping against the porch, his droopy face falling into an insane upside-down grin.

  “You’re a charmer, aren’t you?” Ethan chuckled. Cautious, because the thing was a beast, he crouched down, and the tail beat faster. “Yeah, you’re a charmer.”

  The dog was huge, easily a hundred and fifty pounds. A mastiff, he realized, with a brindle coat. A brass tag hung from his leather collar, and when he tilted his head to read it, was unsurprised to see a familiar name.

  “Hi there, Milo.”

  At the sound of his name, Milo scrambled to his feet and lumbered over to sniff Ethan’s outstretched hand. Finding him worthy, the big head ducked under the hand and nudged hard. With a laugh, Ethan began to scratch.

  He laughed again as Milo leaned in, his eyes closing on a doggy moan of pure pleasure. “You like that, don’t you? Yeah, you do.”

  Ethan set the milkshake down and used both hands to rub the broad head, delight blooming when the dog responded by sprawling out and once again exposing his belly. He rubbed vigorously, chuckling as he found the right spot to set one back leg kicking. “What’re you doing here, buddy? You out chasing cats again?”

  Milo stretched out under the stroke of his hands, nails scraping along the porch, and made Ethan smile. He gave him one last firm rub then pushed to his feet. “Come on, pal. Let’s get you home.”

  Milo let out a heavy sigh and once again heaved himself to his feet. Ethan’s lips twitched as the dog trudged past him to lumber down the steps. He sent Ethan a look over his shoulder, as though he was making sure the human followed, then trotted with surprising grace around the side of the house.

  Ethan figured the dog knew where he was going and turned to head back to the porch. A low bark made him pause, and he glanced over his shoulder to find Milo had stopped and was watching him. “What? You know where home is. Go ahead.”

  When the dog didn’t move, merely stood staring at him, Ethan sighed. “Fine. Let’s go.”

  The dog sent him a smug look, and as soon as Ethan was beside him, began walking again.

  They crossed the yard, Milo moving at an easy lope with Ethan keeping pace. At the back steps, the dog paused, then climbed the steps to scratch at the back door.

  It opened almost immediately, and Honey stood framed in the doorway. She wore cutoff jeans, the seams nearly white with frayed hems dancing along the smooth, tanned skin of her thighs. A tank top, the same shade of purple as the lilacs blooming by the steps, bared her shoulders and arms and dipped low over her breasts, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of firm, round flesh. Her hair was loose, falling in waves to her shoulders.

  “There you are, you big goof,” Honey chided. “Where have you been?”

  “He was on the front porch when I came home,” Ethan said helpfully.

  Her gaze flew to his as she gasped and pressed a hand to her chest. “Jesus!”

  “Sorry,” he said, though he wasn’t. He aimed what he hoped was a friendly smile. “I thought you saw me.”

  She shook her head, sending the soft waves of her hair dancing over her shoulders. He watched, fascinated, as the light played over it, and the streak of pink over her ear played peekaboo. Her shoulders relaxed, tension flowing out of her as she slumped against the doorway. “I didn’t.”

  “Sorry,” he said again, his smile widening. “At least you didn’t throw a bowl full of sugar at me this time.”

  Her lips curled up, and a dimple creased her cheek. “Lucky you.”

  “Lucky me,” he repeated, and looking into her laughing brown eyes, was suddenly very sorry he was in no fit shape to date.

  She really was gorgeous. Soft brown eyes, long legs, generous curves. All that hair was giving him ideas, and suddenly he felt as though he was standing on quicksand again. Don’t go there, he told himself. But it had been a long time since he’d let himself go crazy, and he found himself more tempted than he had a right to be.

  He realized she was talking and gave himself a mental shake. He wasn’t going there, he told himself firmly and ignored the twinge of disappointment.

  “Thanks for bringing Milo home,” she was saying, laying a hand on the dog’s wide head. “I’m having Jacob put in a dog door for me, but he hasn’t been able to get to it yet.”

  Ethan raised a brow. “Mrs. Patterson’s cat better watch out.”

  She rolled her eyes. “He just needs to stay inside where he belongs.”

  Ethan wanted to laugh. “Okay.”

  There was a moment of humming silence, then she said, “I hope he wasn’t a bother.”

  “Not at all.” He couldn’t resist giving the dog one last brisk rub. “He’s great.”

  She beamed at him. “Thanks. Do you want to come in? I’ve got some fresh lemonade.”

  Her smile all but blinded him, and he had to struggle to remember why getting involved was a
bad idea. He steeled his resolve. “No, thanks. I better get back.”

  “Oh.” She blinked, a flicker of confusion in her eyes. “Okay. Um. Could you do me a favor?”

  He opened his mouth to decline, but she disappeared back inside before he could get the words out. He exchanged glances with Milo, who didn’t seem to know what was going on either, and was on the point of just turning around and leaving when the door creaked open again.

  She had a ten-pound bag of sugar in her hands. “Could you give this to Winnie for me? I keep forgetting to drop it off.”

  “No problem.” He took the bag, careful not to brush against her during the transfer, and tucked it under his arm. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Sure.”

  The confusion in her voice was plain, and so was the hurt. Both clouded her eyes as he turned away. He cursed under his breath as he strode back across the lawn. Complications he didn’t need, he reminded himself, even if she triggered something in him. From now on, he was going to stay as far away from the pretty blonde and her big doe eyes as he possibly could.

  HONEY HELD THE door open for Milo as Ethan walked away. She wasn’t hurt, exactly, though confused certainly applied.

  She turned back into her kitchen, giving Milo a stroke as she stepped up to the counter. The chicken she planned to skewer and grill sat seasoned and ready to go, so she turned her attention to the veggies she’d chosen to go with them. Onions, some pretty yellow squash she’d picked up at the farmer’s market, and some sweet red bell peppers to round out the flavor palate and give the dish some color. She retrieved a cutting board and her sharpest knife and began to chop.

  She saved the onion for last, knowing her eyes would begin to tear the second she sliced into it and wouldn’t stop for at least ten minutes. Picking up the pepper, she deftly cut in around the stem to separate it from the sweet flesh of the fruit, then sliced cleanly down to open it up. She began to clear out the seeds, her mind wandering through the mindless routine of it, and Ethan’s handsome, grumpy face popped into her head.