Don't Tempt Me

by Lori Foster

  “A certain type of person moves here. Not just to the area, but to this particular block. Mostly single men who can handle themselves. Men with some contractor skills, with time and ability to do the repairs needed. What we don’t generally see are young women—”

  “I’m twenty-nine!”

  “—who are completely alone, setting up house here.”

  It hurt to know he was right, that for all intents and purposes, she was alone now. She had Lexie, but that wasn’t the same as a significant other, or family who cared.

  “You’re in over your head,” he continued. “The work that needs to be done would be daunting for a man, but for a woman? Especially a woman like you?”

  Sexy—and sexist. She firmed her spine. “Like me?”

  “Small,” he explained. “Soft.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You most definitely are. Playing house is all well and good—”

  “I’m not playing.” She was dead serious about it, all of it. She had to be.

  “—but it’ll take more than that to make it work. A hell of a lot more.”

  Honor huffed, then deflated with the truth of her situation. “Well, this sucks.”

  He hesitated, but finally asked, “What does?”

  Putting her nose in the air, she stared into his beautiful brown eyes. “I haven’t even finished moving in, and already I dislike my neighbor.”

  On that parting remark, she turned and strode away. But her heart was thumping and her hands felt clammy and her stomach hurt.

  She was never that rude, especially when she knew someone acted out of concern. What in the world got into me?

  Right before she reached the truck, she glanced over her shoulder and saw Jason still standing there, hands on his hips, that laserlike gaze boring into her.

  Damn it. She turned to fully face him. “Jason?”

  His chin notched up in query.

  “I apologize. I didn’t mean it.” Immediately she felt better—even with Lexie now laughing at her.

  Jason’s hands fell to his sides and he dropped his head forward. She saw his shoulders moving.

  Laughing? She wasn’t sure.

  But she smiled and started to turn away again.

  “Honor.”

  She peeked at him and found his hands were back on his hips.

  “You’re still trouble, no doubt about it. But if you need anything, let me know.”

  Sure. When hell froze over. She smiled sweetly, waved and finally got in the truck.

  More than ever, she was determined to do it all on her own. In the process she’d be nice to her caring, helpful, gorgeous neighbor—and she’d absolutely prove him wrong.

  * * *

  A week later, in the middle of painting her small bathroom a cheery yellow, Honor’s cell phone rang. Since she didn’t have the luxury of ever ignoring a call, she always kept the phone on her.

  Juggling things, she dug it from the pocket of her sloppy pajama pants, saw it was Lexie and put it on speaker so she could leave it on the sink. “Hey, Lex.”

  “Dare I hope you’re breathless for a good reason?”

  “Painting.”

  Lexie blew a loud raspberry into the phone. “Not a good reason at all, damn it.”

  Honor shook her head. Lexie, more than anyone else, knew just how seldom she got breathless for the “good” reason. “With all this rain I haven’t been able to get much done outside, so I’ve been painting everything inside. I have most of the rooms done now and tomorrow I’ll start on the baseboards and doorframes. I want them to be a nice, bright white.”

  “Uh-huh,” Lexie said, not real excited over paint ideas. “How’s that hunky neighbor of yours?”

  “Which one?”

  “Love it when you play dumb.” She laughed at her own joke. “One was too young for me to reference without feeling pervy, and the other was gorgeous but a complete pill. That leaves Jason.”

  “You didn’t think Jason was a pill?”

  “I thought Jason was awesomely concentrated.”

  True, and it had intimidated her just a little. “Well, doesn’t really matter which one you meant, because I haven’t seen any of them.”

  “Then you need to break something,” Lexie suggested. “Or buy something, stand in the driveway and look helpless.”

  “In the rain?”

  “What’s a little rainwater if he offers his help?”

  Not in this lifetime. “I don’t think so.” Honor was all about looking self-reliant, not needy. That had been her core desire all along, but now, on top of that motivation, she desperately wanted to prove Jason wrong.

  Unaware of Honor’s inner turmoil, Lexie said, “Well, you could just ask for his help. I’m sure there’s something around the house that he could assist with. Maybe something in the—” fake cough “—bedroom?”

  “You’re impossible. Stop trying to be my pimp.”

  “Pimps get paid. I just want to see you glow.”

  A crack of lightning made Honor jump. She had to admit that Jason’s warnings had her spooked. For most of her life she’d been an insomniac, but after him predicting doom and gloom and making it sound like she was a sitting duck to all sorts of despicable crimes, she could barely doze. There were a lot of unfamiliar sounds in her house and even though she’d reinforced every entry, she still went on high alert every time she heard a squeak.

  “You didn’t hang up on me, did you?”

  “Nope.” Honor climbed down off her stepladder and set the brush across the top of the can. “But you already know I don’t want to ask for his help.” Jason thought she was trouble, assumed she’d fail and expected her to somehow cause problems.

  “C’mon, honey. Think about how much quicker you’d get things done.”

  She’d also prove Jason right, that she couldn’t handle it on her own. No, thank you. “I’m happy doing it all myself.”

  Lexie blew out a breath. “That’s a shame, because I was planning to visit tomorrow and lend a hand, as I’d promised. I’d have been there sooner, but we were restocking this week.”

  “I don’t want to work you, but you know you’re more than welcome to visit.” Luckily Lexie lived and worked only half an hour away, in the downtown area. The salon where Honor worked was in the opposite direction, but not very far at all. “I wouldn’t mind chatting with you while I get things done.” Lexie was the ray of sunshine in her otherwise dull world.

  “I promise to actually assist. What time will you get home?”

  For too many years now, Lexie had been fighting her way around Honor’s barriers. She knew from experience that it did her no good to resist.

  Smiling, Honor said, “Around six—” and then her phone beeped. When she glanced at the screen, dread went through her bloodstream. “Shoot, I have to go. That’s the facility.”

  “Of course it is,” Lexie groused. “Don’t let them wear you out. I’ll see you tomorrow at six-fifteen.”

  Honor switched over the call, and while she listened she headed to her bedroom to change. She already knew what the call meant, what she’d have to do.

  Looked like she’d be making a trip out in the downpour. The painting would have to wait. It’s only paint, she reminded herself.

  But it felt like so much more.

  It felt like...her future.

  * * *

  Her curtains did nothing more than tease. Jason stood at the window, watching the storm. Or at least he had been. But as soon as Honor’s bedroom light came on, his gaze shifted from the dark sky to her shadowy form...undressing.

  The woman kept the strangest damn hours, heading out for work in the early morning, coming home after six, then regularly leaving again, sometimes in the middle of the night. On the quiet street he often heard her car door open and close. Other than those times, with the storms keeping everyone inside, he hadn’t seen her.

  Would her roof leak? Were the windows sealed? His gaze shifted to one of the big trees in her backyard. The wind p
ulled at dead branches that could do a lot of damage if they landed wrong.

  So much for her to do, and yet it seemed she was never home long enough to get to any of it.

  “Spying again?”

  Jason didn’t bother to turn to Hogan. “It’s really coming down.”

  “Right. Never knew the rain fascinated you so much.”

  “The creek might flood.” He glanced at his brother, took in his clothes and knew the answer even before he asked. “Going out?”

  Hogan rolled one shoulder. “Yeah.”

  Running. Always running. From one meaningless date to the next. Jason understood, at least to a degree. The past year had been hard on his brother.

  But damn it, it had been hard on Colt, too.

  He didn’t want to judge, but right now it seemed Hogan had his head up his ass and was blind to everything except his own damaged ego. A million dates with easy conquests wouldn’t fix anything. But how did he tell Hogan that?

  He couldn’t. Not yet anyway. So instead he concentrated on other, more tangible and less emotional issues. “How’d the interview go?”

  “Same as the others. I’m fucked.”

  It was an awkward thing, being in the position of advising his older brother. For so many years Hogan had been the settled one. Gorgeous wife, check. Awesome son, check. Nice house, nice bank account and respectable job with benefits, check.

  But over the last year, everything had changed and there were times Jason wondered if they’d ever get back to normal. He’d never been in love, never had a son and never lost his livelihood, so he couldn’t pretend to know how Hogan felt.

  But he loved his nephew and he knew, eventually, Hogan would have to get his priorities straight. He was a good dad, always. But lately he’d been far too absent, physically and emotionally.

  Running a hand over the back of his head, Jason said, “The bankruptcy?”

  Disgusted, Hogan curled his lip. “Who wants to hire an accountant who was unable to manage his own finances?”

  A definite problem. “Did you explain?”

  That made him laugh. “Right. What would I say? That I didn’t know my wife was boning two different guys while going through our money like water through a sieve? That elevates me from a bad accountant to a total moron.”

  Jason blew out a breath. Tough to go from six figures with elite and exclusive clients to unemployed without prospects. “Something will turn up.”

  “Maybe.” Pulling on a wind breaker and turning up the collar, Hogan said, “If the night goes well, I’ll be home in the morning.”

  “That’s what you want me to tell Colt when he asks?”

  Without meeting his gaze, Hogan said, “He won’t ask.”

  No, Jason thought, watching Hogan dart out into the rain. Colt already knew his dad cared more about chasing tail than manning up and facing the reality of their situation.

  But Jason wished like hell it was different.

  Needing a new focus, he returned to the window. Earlier, Honor had been painting. Two at a time she’d carried in cans of paint from her car, getting soaked in the process. At this rate, the whole house probably had a fresh coat. He wondered at her color choices. Was she a bold primary kind of girl, or soft pastels? A continuous color like this house, or a rainbow of hues, each room different?

  He’d bet on the rainbow.

  A few minutes later when Honor’s front door opened, Hogan was already gone. Propping a shoulder on the window frame, Jason watched her as she stepped out, locked the door and double-checked it.

  Smart.

  She wore skinny jeans, sandals and an oversize top that mostly concealed her figure. Before stepping off her rickety porch she opened an umbrella—one that sported wide, bold stripes in every color imaginable.

  Yup, rainbow colors.

  He’d like to see the progress she’d made inside the house, but just as the rains had kept her inside, they’d kept him away from the yard. He’d worked either inside his garage or not at all. Probably for the best. If he got inside her house and saw her workload, he’d want to help.

  He and his nephew were alike that way. But she’d already made it clear that his help was unwanted.

  As Honor darted into the rain and to her car, he tracked her every move, and nodded.

  Trouble—with a capital T.

  * * *

  Hours later, as Jason lay in the dark trying to sleep, he heard her pull in to the driveway. Her headlights cut across his window, briefly illuminating his room before she turned them off. She didn’t slam her car door, but the sound of it closing echoed over the quiet streets. He glanced at the clock and saw it was 2:00 a.m.

  Without giving it much thought, he threw back the sheet and strode to the window to look out. He had a better view from his dining room, with that view directly facing her front porch, but he was naked, so he stayed in his bedroom and lifted aside the curtain.

  Sometime during the night the rain had stopped. Black clouds parted and moon shadows danced over the yard. The faint glow of her porch light showed the exhaustion visible in every line of her body. At the bottom step of the porch she paused and looked up, staring at the skinny crescent moon for a very long time.

  While Jason stared at her.

  His heart beat heavily and he felt unfamiliar things, things that only partially involved lust. Every day for a week he’d thought about her, watched for her, worried over her situation.

  He wanted to lend a hand. It went against his nature not to. But she’d been pretty clear on her preferences.

  Finally she lowered her head, rubbed at her eyes, then trudged up the steps and, after fumbling at her door for longer than should have been necessary, she went in.

  Telling himself he’d only watch to ensure that she got inside safely, Jason waited.

  Lights came on as she walked through the house to the kitchen, then out again when she went to her bedroom.

  She must have undressed in the dark.

  When all stayed quiet, Jason decided she’d gone to bed.

  After a deep breath he dropped the curtain and did the same.

  * * *

  There were two types of problems.

  The type where, if you just told someone, things could work out. People would have answers or suggestions, or they’d offer desperately needed help. You shared and others got involved and things got better. Honor had always considered it dumb when people kept their problems to themselves if sharing could make things easier.

  Unfortunately she never seemed to have those types of problems. She had the other kind. The kind where no solutions existed and talking to others equated to whining because you knew they couldn’t help. Sharing only drew them in and made them feel responsible, and then resentful.

  Or worse, they felt sorry for you.

  She never wanted anyone to pity her.

  Once, in a moment of weakness, she’d explained everything to Lexie—and learned a valuable lesson. Lexie had an overprotective streak, which meant she griped nonstop on Honor’s behalf. Even worse, Lexie’s mean-spirited barbs put Honor in the unpalatable position of having to defend her family.

  She disliked that almost as much as the pity.

  But she loved Lexie. She especially loved that Lexie was coming over that night. She could use a dose or two of laughter to help her stay focused.

  She’d awakened late after sleeping through her alarm. Luckily sunshine cut straight though her makeshift curtains, which, as Jason had suggested, were really tacked-up sheets. At the moment, she couldn’t afford real window treatments.

  Grateful for the beautiful day, she’d swilled coffee, hopped in and out of the shower, brushed her teeth and hair, forfeited even the most basic makeup and was now rushing out.

  After securing all the locks on the door, she turned for the porch steps—and drew up short at the sight of her trash...everywhere.

  Oh no.

  As she stared in horror, Jason righted the overturned trash can, and then he and Colt began pi
cking it all up. Hand to the top of her head as if to keep her numb brain contained, gaze going everywhere to take in the catastrophe, Honor strode out to the yard. Feeling sick, she asked, “What happened?”

  As if it didn’t matter, Jason glanced at her, over her, then answered while getting back to work, “You didn’t have a lid on your garbage can, and winds knocked it over during the storm.”

  She was already late. What to do?

  Standing, Colt noticed her shock. “Hey, no worries. You can go on and I’ll take care of it.”

  Bless him.

  But then Jason slanted her a look. It wasn’t exactly condemnation. Truthfully she didn’t know what to call it; she just absolutely knew she couldn’t walk away yet.

  Mouth pinched to keep the groan contained, she dumped her purse, packed lunch and keys into the driver’s seat of her small car and started grabbing up garbage. Luckily none of it was the nasty kind. Nothing too personal.

  She chased down a piece of paper skipping over the lawn, and almost collided with Jason.

  Of course the man was shirtless again.

  Did he only own pants?

  Rain or shine, he usually worked in the garage and his requisite outfit included some variation on jeans or shorts, athletic shoes or work boots—and no shirt.

  Occasionally he wore a trucker’s cap...backward.

  When he wasn’t too close, when she only spied on him through a window, she could take it. Barely.

  But now, with only a foot between them? Awareness thrummed through her bloodstream, her skin went warm and keeping her gaze on his face proved nearly impossible. “I’ve got it,” she mumbled, and started to reach for the paper.

  Jason got to it before she could.

  She quickly stepped back—and he followed.

  “Honor?”

  “Hmm?”

  Taking her by surprise, he tipped up her chin and studied her face. “You look tired.”

  God, his fingers were hot, a little rough, and they sent her heartbeat into a frantic race. “No.” Her false smile felt absurd. “I’m good.”

  His gaze dropped to her mouth, wandered lower—then came back to her eyes. “Yes, you are. Maybe too good—because you can’t lie for shit.” His hand left her chin but only so he could trace a fingertip along her cheekbone. “You’ve got dark circles under your eyes.”