From Neighbors...to Newlyweds?

by Brenda Harlen

  “You were going to shower,” Kelsey reminded him.

  He nodded and turned away. He did need to wash away all of the sawdust and sweat—and he was hopeful that the chilly spray might finally help banish wayward thoughts of Georgia that continued to pop into his mind.

  * * *

  Georgia didn’t let herself think twice. If she did, she would think of all kinds of reasons that walking across the yard and knocking on Matt’s door was a bad idea. Then she’d convince herself not to do it and she’d end up eating two dozen freshly baked chocolate chip cookies all by herself. Besides, it was just a plate of cookies—it wasn’t as if she was propositioning her neighbor. Even if there was something about the man that intrigued her, despite the fact that she didn’t want to be intrigued.

  He was more attractive than any man had a right to be, but it wasn’t just his physical appearance that appealed to her. There was a warmth in his eyes that hinted at a kindness in his soul, and a twinkle in his smile that attested to a sense of humor. And when he looked at her, she felt some of the weariness in her bones fade away and an unexpected warmth spread through her belly. Which was just one more reason she should not be making the man cookies.

  She’d meant what she’d said to Jack the night before—she wasn’t interested in any kind of romantic relationship and she didn’t want to send mixed signals. On the other hand, it was possible that Jack had misinterpreted his brother’s intentions and that Matt wasn’t even reading any of her signals. Just because the man gave her tingles didn’t mean that he felt the same sizzle of attraction. After all, it was extremely unlikely the sexy doctor would ever be interested in a weary widow with a lot of kid-sized baggage.

  The mental lecture didn’t do much to reassure her, but she accepted that the truth needed to be faced. Her children were her priority right now, and it would be a very long time before she even considered adding a man into the equation. So resolved, she lifted a hand to press the buzzer.

  A moment later, she heard light footsteps—much lighter than she would have expected from a man of her neighbor’s size and build—then the door was opened.

  “Oh. Um.” Georgia wasn’t expecting anyone but Matt to answer the door, and finding herself face-to-face with a stunningly beautiful brunette left her momentarily speechless.

  “You’re looking for Matt,” the woman guessed.

  “I was,” Georgia admitted. “But I don’t want to interrupt—”

  “Please.” The other woman laughed as she held up a hand to halt her apology. “You’re not interrupting anything.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Matt is a very old and close friend and nothing more than a friend. I just stopped by to drop off a housewarming gift and to make sure he was getting settled,” she explained, stepping away from the door so Georgia could enter.

  She held out the plate of cookies. “Actually, if I could just leave these with—”

  “Georgia.”

  Before she could make her escape, he was there—fresh out of the shower, if his damp hair and the subtle scent of soap were any indication. And when he smiled at her, a smile filled with both warmth and pleasure, her heart actually skipped a beat.

  “I’m sorry for just stopping by. I didn’t know you had company.”

  “Kelsey’s not company,” Matt said, winking at the brunette.

  The other woman rolled her eyes. “Didn’t I tell you?”

  Georgia smiled, then turned to offer the plate to Matt. “When you fixed up Shane’s arm, you mentioned that you were partial to chocolate chip.”

  “I am,” he agreed. “But I’m not sure I follow the connection between the hospital and the baked goods.”

  “I wanted to thank you for last night,” she said, then felt her cheeks heat. She glanced at Kelsey and hastened to explain. “For dinner, I mean.” And then, to clarify further, “When I lived in Manhattan, I didn’t socialize with the people in my building—to be honest, I didn’t even know most of them—so this whole neighbor-helping-neighbor thing is all new to me. But you’ve been really great, and I thought baking some cookies might be a nice way to say thanks.”

  “It wasn’t necessary, but I appreciate it.” He breathed in deeply. “They smell fantastic.”

  “Well, I should get back,” she said.

  “How is Shane managing with the cast?” Kelsey asked.

  Georgia must have looked startled by the question, because the other woman smiled.

  “Brittney, your hospital assistant and babysitter, is my daughter,” she explained.

  “Your daughter?” Georgia was genuinely baffled by this revelation. “You don’t look old enough to be the mother of a seventeen-year-old.”

  Kelsey laughed. “Oh, I do like you.”

  “Shane’s doing okay,” she said, in response to the original question. “Mostly because his brother is catering to his every whim. Although I suspect that will wear thin in another day or two.”

  “How’s Pippa?” Matt asked. “Has she been sleeping any better?”

  She shook her head again.

  “Colic doesn’t last forever,” he told her.

  “It only seems like forever,” Kelsey warned.

  “It already does,” Georgia admitted.

  “And yet,” Kelsey mused thoughtfully, “somehow a woman who has her hands full with three small children, including a fussy newborn and a preschooler with a broken arm, still found the time to make cookies for her new neighbor.”

  “It took a lot less time to make the cookies than it would have to cut my grass, which Matt did for me the other day,” Georgia explained, wanting to ensure that Kelsey didn’t get any wrong ideas.

  “So this is...tit for tat?”

  Georgia wasn’t sure if the emphasis on “tit” and “tat” was deliberate, but the implication had her cheeks flooding with color again. “Something like that,” she agreed lightly.

  “Did you want some of these cookies and a cup of coffee? I could make decaf,” Matt said, coming to her rescue again.

  “Thanks, but I just had a cup of tea with Mrs. Dunford—and I’ve left her alone with the kids for too long already.” She turned back to Kelsey. “It was nice meeting you.”

  “You, too,” Kelsey said. “Next time, I hope you’ll have time for that cup of coffee.”

  “That would be nice,” Georgia said.

  Matt followed her to the door. “Sorry about Kelsey.”

  Her lips curved. “Why are you sorry?”

  “Because she’s the sister I never wanted.”

  Despite the disclaimer, the tolerant affection she’d seen when Matt looked at Kelsey had been obvious. But when she glanced up now to find him looking at her, what she saw in his eyes wasn’t tolerant affection but something hotter and more intense. And this time, the tingles that started low in her belly spread through her whole body.

  She had to swallow before she could speak. “I really have to get back.”

  “Thanks again for the cookies.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “For everything.”

  He smiled. “See? You’re getting the hang of small-town living.”

  “I’m trying,” she agreed.

  “And from the neighbor-helping-neighbor thing, it’s just a short hop, skip and a jump to friendship.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to meet many new people since I moved here,” she admitted. “I’d like it if we could be friends.”

  “I’d like that, too,” he said.

  * * *

  Matt stayed where he was, watching until Georgia had disappeared through the back door and into her house.

  In the few weeks since he’d moved in, he’d made more progress with the beautiful blonde next door than he’d anticipated. She’d gone from being distant and wary to baking cookies for him, which gave him confidence that they were well on their way to becoming friends.

  And from there, he was optimistic that it was just another hop, skip and a jump to something more.

  Chapter Six


  Matt stayed out with Luke and Jack later than he’d intended. Not because he was having a good time, but he figured if he at least pretended he was, it might get his brothers off his back for a while. He had a couple of beers early in the evening, because Luke was buying, but then he switched to soda. It was rare for Matt to overindulge, he never had more than a couple of drinks when he was driving, and he didn’t drink at all if he was on call.

  By the time he left the bar, his head was pounding from the throbbing beat of the music, his muscles ached from the sawing and hammering he’d done in the afternoon, and he was exhausted. And when he pulled into his driveway at nearly 2:00 a.m., he was stunned to see Georgia carrying Pippa’s car seat toward her own vehicle, with the twins—in their pajamas—shuffling along beside her.

  He shifted into Park and turned off his vehicle. Even through the closed window of his car, he could hear the baby’s cries. In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if she was screaming loud enough to wake Mrs. Dunford across the street—and she was almost 80 percent deaf.

  As he exited the vehicle, he had to admire the baby’s lung capacity. He lifted a hand in greeting, but Georgia didn’t see him. And as she passed beneath the streetlight, he saw that Pippa wasn’t the only who was crying. The wet streaks on Georgia’s cheeks were his undoing. He forgot his own fatigue and crossed the patch of grass that separated their two driveways.

  “What are you doing?”

  She finished locking the car seat into its base, then made sure the boys were securely belted in their booster seats. Straightening, she wiped the telltale traces of tears from her cheeks. “I’m going for a drive.”

  “At 2:00 a.m.?”

  “Is that a violation of street curfew?”

  “No, just common sense,” he told her.

  She reached for the driver’s-side door, but he scooped the keys out of her hand.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “You’re too exhausted and emotional to get behind the wheel of a car,” he said. “Especially with your infant daughter and two little boys in the backseat.”

  “I’m tired because Pippa won’t sleep. Hopefully, a quick trip around the block will change that, then I can come back home and we’ll all get some shut-eye.”

  He opened the passenger-side door and gestured for her to get inside. She just stared at him, uncomprehending.

  “I’ll drive,” he told her.

  She opened her mouth as if to protest, then closed it again without saying a word and climbed into the vehicle.

  He knew she wasn’t accustomed to having anyone look out for her, and that she was probably more suspicious than appreciative of his efforts, but tonight she was too tired to put up a fight.

  He’d just turned onto Queen Street when he realized that she was right—the motion of the car had quickly succeeded in putting Pippa to sleep. A glance in the rearview mirror confirmed that both Quinn’s and Shane’s eyes were closed, too. He started to comment to Georgia on the obvious success of her plan, then saw that she was as deeply asleep as her children.

  Matt continued to drive, with only the radio for company, because he was concerned that Georgia would wake up as soon as he pulled back into her driveway, and he knew that she needed the rest as much as—or maybe even more than—her daughter. But half an hour later, his eyes were starting to feel heavy, too, so he turned the vehicle back toward Larkspur Drive.

  Luckily, Georgia’s house key was on the same ring as the van key, so he was able to let her sleep while he opened up the door and transferred the kids, one at a time, from the vehicle to their beds. He couldn’t figure out how to unlatch Pippa’s car seat, so he finally just unbuckled the belt and lifted the sleeping baby into his arms. She didn’t stir. Obviously her sleepless nights were taking as much of a toll on the baby as they were on her mother.

  When Pippa was settled in her crib, he went out to the van again to rouse Georgia. He touched her shoulder gently; she jolted.

  “What— Where?”

  “You’re home,” he told her.

  She turned automatically to the backseat. “Where are the kids?”

  “They’re all inside, tucked into their beds.”

  Her eyes widened. “Really?”

  He nodded. “Now it’s your turn.”

  “Okay.” She let him help her out of the car and toward the back door. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, too.”

  “Obviously you needed it.”

  “I guess so,” she said, and lifted a hand to cover her yawn.

  He steered her in the direction of the staircase. She automatically turned toward Pippa’s room, but he guided her across the hall to what he assumed was her own. “Just go to sleep,” he said softly.

  “Pippa—”

  “Is already in her crib.”

  “I should change her diaper.”

  “I checked it before I put her down.”

  She blinked. “You did?”

  He smiled. “She’s clean and dry and sleeping—you should do the same.”

  “Okay,” she finally relented. Then she lay down on top of the covers, fully dressed, and closed her eyes.

  “Sweet dreams, Georgia.”

  But she didn’t respond, because she was dead to the world again.

  * * *

  Georgia awoke in a panic.

  The sun was streaming through the partially open blinds and a quick glance at the clock on her bedside table revealed that it was 8:02 a.m.

  She didn’t believe it. The last time she’d nursed Pippa was around two, just before she’d gone out to the car to take her for a drive. But Pippa had never slept for six straight hours. She wondered if she might have awakened in the night and nursed the baby without realizing it, but her painfully engorged breasts immediately refuted the possibility.

  Aside from the uncomfortable fullness, she felt good. Relaxed and rejuvenated. She crossed the hall to Pippa’s room, a genuinely contented smile on her face.

  The contentment and the smile disappeared fast when she discovered that her little girl’s crib was empty.

  She bolted across the hall to the twins’ room and found it was empty, too. She raced for the stairs, her heart hammering against her ribs. “Pippa?”

  She couldn’t have said why she was calling for her—she knew the baby wouldn’t answer. But she wasn’t thinking rationally. She wasn’t thinking about anything except that her children weren’t where they were supposed to be.

  “She’s here.” Matt must have heard the panic in her voice, because he met her at the bottom of the stairs with Pippa in his arms and Quinn and Shane at his side.

  Her breath rushed out of her lungs and her knees went weak. Matt reached out, catching her arm to hold her steady. “You okay?”

  She nodded as she took Pippa, cuddling the little girl close to her chest. The baby cooed happily. “I am now.”

  “Why is Mommy crying?” Shane wanted to know.

  She hadn’t known that she was, and wiped hastily at her cheeks with her free hand, then touched his head. “I just got scared when I woke up and didn’t know where you guys were.”

  “Pippa’s a Who-dee-na, too,” Quinn announced.

  “Houdini,” Matt corrected the boy automatically. Then, to Georgia, “I’m sorry. I thought I was doing you a favor by letting you get some sleep.”

  “You were. You did. I just didn’t expect that you’d still be here, and when I saw that her crib was empty and I didn’t hear the boys...” They wandered off now, back into the living room where she could hear their favorite cartoons on the television.

  “You panicked. Understandably,” he said. “And I’m sorry.”

  She wanted to be mad, but he was so genuinely contrite that she couldn’t hold on to her anger. Especially not when he spoke again and asked, “Are you hungry? I hope you don’t mind but I pilfered through your cupboards and was just about to make some French toast.”

  “No, I don’t mind,” she said. “Especially not if you’re
offering to make French toast for me, too.”

  “Absolutely,” he assured her. “If for no other reason than to be able to tell my brothers that I had breakfast with my beautiful new neighbor.”

  She knew he was teasing, and she wasn’t sure how she was supposed to respond to that. From their first meeting, he’d been friendly and flirtatious, but maybe he was just the type of guy who flirted with every woman who crossed his path. Because the idea that he could be interested continued to baffle her—and never more so than right now, as she suddenly remembered her wrinkled clothing, disheveled hair and unbrushed teeth.

  “Do I have time for a quick shower?” she asked.

  “Twenty minutes enough?”

  She nodded and turned back toward the stairs.

  “Are you planning to take Pippa into the shower with you?”

  “No, but I figured she was overdue for a feeding,” she said. Despite the fact that the baby certainly wasn’t acting like it had been more than six hours since her last feeding, Georgia’s aching breasts confirmed the fact.

  “She had a bottle an hour ago,” he said.

  That stopped her abruptly in her tracks. “She had a bottle?”

  “I found your stash of breast milk in the freezer.”

  Georgia was impressed, and more than a little surprised. Because on the few occasions that she’d tried to coax her daughter to take one, Pippa had refused to latch on to the artificial nipple. “She was okay with the bottle?”

  “She was hungry,” he said simply.

  She couldn’t help but smile as she secured Pippa into her bouncy chair. “You really do go above and beyond, don’t you?”

  “It wasn’t a big deal,” he assured her.

  But to Georgia it was. Six hours of uninterrupted sleep was a very big deal—and she was very grateful. But now she wondered, “Where did you sleep?”

  “Your couch, in the living room.”

  Having caught some quick naps there herself, she didn’t recommend it. “I hope you don’t have to work today,” she said, wondering how he could get through a day at the hospital on only a few hours of sleep on a sofa.