Changing the subject seemed like a good idea.
“What can I call you then?” I grinned, trying to lighten the moment. “How about Mack?”
“No.” The last penny made it back into the container.
Both of us stood, and she reached around me to place it in its spot next to the sink. The kitchen was small, so she had to get closer to me. I could’ve moved back to make more room for her, but I didn’t. I stood my ground, letting her arm brush against my stomach.
I thought she was going to leave, but instead she turned to gaze out the window over the sink. She was just a foot away from me now, and I stared at her profile. Those full pink lips stood out against her pale skin.
“How long will you be here?” she asked quietly, curiously.
“All summer,” I replied and something akin to dread flashed across her face, the corners of her mouth turning down.
I was a little offended. She was the one who’d let herself into my grandma’s house, uninvited. We’d barely met, but I got the distinct feeling she didn’t like me much.
“Well, Mack,” I taunted, deliberately using the nickname she didn’t want. Leaning in close enough to smell the clean scent of her shampoo, I whispered, “Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”
She sucked in a breath and stepped away. I was sure she was about to run from the room, but she didn’t get the chance.
Grandma came around the corner, her purse slung around her shoulder. “I’m back. Forgot my checkbook.” She glanced back and forth between Mackenna and me, then smiled wide. “Oh, good. You two have met.”
“Barely,” I grumped, self-consciously tugging at the hem of the apron.
Ernie was right behind Grandma, and his eyes widened under the shadow of his ballcap as he took in the condition of the room and my attire. Or lack thereof.
“Jimmy was just telling me how much he loves Sweet Pea,” Mackenna piped up. “He said he wanted to clean his cage from now on, so I guess you won’t need me for that anymore.”
Shocked at the blatant dishonesty, I narrowed my eyes at her. “Liar.”
“James Peabody Johnson,” Grandma gasped, and even though Mackenna didn’t smile, I saw her lips twitch at the use of my full name. “You’ll be polite to our guest.”
“Breaking in doesn’t really make her a guest, does it?”
“Mackenna’s welcome here anytime. You’d best remember that,” Grandma said firmly.
The gorgeous girl shoved the broom in my direction. I took it from her, making sure our fingers brushed. The hair on my arm stood up at the contact.
Standing back, she put her hands on her hips, scowled at me one last time, then glanced at Grandma. “I need to get back home anyway. It was nice to see you, Beverly. You too, Ernie.”
As she walked from the room, I could see white handprints from the flour on her waist. The sight of it was somewhat erotic, and I wished I’d been the one to put those prints there. I heard her whistle a goodbye to the parrot, then she was gone.
“Well.” Ernie hitched his thumbs under the suspenders he always wore. “Gotta say, this entire situation is mighty uncomfortable. I’ll go wait in the car. Great to have you here for the summer, Jimmy!”
Then it was just Grandma and me.
“Well, that was embarrassing,” I said pointlessly.
Shaking her head, Grandma clucked her tongue. “Goodness. I hope you and Mackenna can work out your differences by tomorrow.”
“What’s tomorrow?”
“Mackenna volunteered to paint my house. I thought you could lend a hand.”
I grimaced. “I think she hates me.”
Grandma shrugged. “Fix it. Unless you don’t want to help.”
“No way in hell am I letting her do the work by herself.” I may have been a lot of things, but lazy wasn’t one of them. And, despite what the past few minutes might suggest, I wasn’t an asshole either.
“Good answer,” she said with a nod, then her face softened in the way it did when she wasn’t joking around or cussing up a storm—which was hardly ever. “I mean it, Jimmy. Be nice to that girl. I think she needs friends. Poor thing hardly ever smiles.”
Feeling a mix of emotions, I glanced out the window at the house next door. I searched the windows, hoping to get a glimpse of dark hair and pale skin, but I saw nothing but closed blinds.
“She comes over to hang out with the shit machine?”
“James!” Grandma scolded, then cracked a smile. “Yes. Mackenna loves that crap factory. That girl is an enigma. I’ve never known anyone so kind, yet so closed off at the same time. I’ve tried to get her to open up to me, but it’s been tough. And you know how likable I am!” Exasperated, she threw her hands in the air.
Chuckling, I nodded. “It’s impossible not to like you.”
“Damn straight.”
“I’ll try to be nice,” I promised.
“Good. Be the charmer I know you are. You’ve got something in your hair.” She gestured toward my head, then looked at the flour still covering a good portion of the kitchen. “I don’t think baking is your thing. Hopefully you’re better at painting.” Walking out of the room, she called over her shoulder, “And by the way, you look good in peach.”
Then I was alone again with no lunch, one hell of a mess, and a dick that was still slightly perked up from meeting her.
Mackenna.
I wasn’t proud of myself. I’d just been a complete jerk to the hottest girl I had ever seen.
Initially, the reason for that was mostly because I was mortified, but there was something about pushing her buttons that turned me on. Her attitude was defensive, aloof, and almost dismissive. And it might’ve been childish but I wanted her attention, even if it was because I made her mad.
An already-interesting summer just got a lot more intriguing.
Grabbing the mop, I went back to cleaning the disaster in the kitchen and promised myself I’d make peace with Mackenna tomorrow.
Early morning sunlight filtered through the bathroom window as pulled my hair into a messy bun. Guilt weighed on me when I thought about the way I’d snapped at Beverly’s grandson the day before. He had every right to be upset with me for walking in on him like that.
It was his house, after all. Well, at least for the time being.
On my way out of Beverly’s yesterday, I looked at the family picture on the wall. A much younger Jimmy sat next to a blond-haired boy in front of a Christmas tree. When she told me about her grandkids, I’d assumed that picture was recent.
It wasn’t.
The last thing I expected to see in that kitchen was a solid wall of muscle, tanned skin, and tattoos.
He caught me off-guard and I reacted badly, especially when he brought up Jaxon—the one thing no one could seem to forget. Apparently, three years didn’t make much of a difference in this small corner of the world. Jimmy wasn’t even from this area, but he remembered.
It wasn’t just that, though… I’d been shocked by the way my body responded to the sight of those tattoos. The freaking nipple piercings. Inky black hair and green eyes.
Along with his cocky attitude, it was a lethal combination. Exactly the kind of thing that drove women nuts.
I hadn’t felt true physical attraction in years, and never with that intensity. If I was being honest, that was what caught me off-guard the most.
I shouldn’t be attracted to a guy like Jimmy.
He had bad news written all over him, and last time I got with a bad boy, it ended horribly to say the very least.
I didn’t need temptation or distraction. One thing I certainly didn’t want was heartbreak. I had a feeling Jimmy could be the trifecta of all the things I should avoid.
As far as I was concerned, he was completely off-limits. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t be civil toward him. Jimmy and I would need to get along if we were going to be temporary neighbors.
Or maybe I could just stay locked away in my house for a couple months.
&
nbsp; But what about the ice cream sandwiches?
There was delivery for that sort of thing, right? Shaking my head, I laughed at how ridiculous I was being.
Surely, Jimmy had better things to do than hang around this sleepy town all the time. Convincing myself I probably wouldn’t see him very often, I made the resolve to be nicer next time I ran into him.
After putting on raggedy gray shorts and an old white tank top, I went outside and made my way to Beverly’s backyard.
My footsteps faltered at the sight in front of me.
Jimmy was there, shirtless and sweating from exertion as he spread a coat of the most obnoxious shade of green I had ever seen onto the white brick exterior of the house.
I don’t know why I assumed I’d be painting alone. When Beverly mentioned the project, I offered to help, but that was before I knew about her new roommate.
Of course Jimmy would be helping. He was a strong, able-bodied man.
For a few seconds, I considered backing out. Occasionally running into Jimmy was one thing. Being forced to work together for days?
I wanted no part of that.
I could just say I wasn’t feeling well and spend the rest of the day spying on him from my window. But I’d never been one to flake on my commitments. I just needed to suck it up.
Forcing my feet forward, I took the opportunity to study his body while he was unaware of my presence.
His black gym shorts hung low on his hips, and I could see the gray waistband of his briefs. The muscles of his back and arms flexed as he used the roller, going up and down in long, steady strokes. The angel wings on his back had something written within the feathers, but I wasn’t close enough to see what it said.
I was so focused on finding out I didn’t see the garden hose in the grass, and the toe of my flip-flop got caught on it.
Nearly stumbling to the ground, I used every core muscle I didn’t even know I had to keep from falling. Arms flailed ungracefully. Hands flapped through the air. My feet did some sort of weird dance as I struggled to stay upright.
Jimmy must have heard my scuffle because he turned just in time to see me straightening my shoulders, trying to play it off like I didn’t just almost bite the dust in front of the hottest guy ever.
“Hey, Mack. Thought you weren’t gonna show up.” He smirked. “Thought maybe you changed your mind.”
“It’s Mackenna,” I corrected haughtily, smoothing some loose hairs away from my face. The guilt I’d been feeling earlier was replaced with unwelcome sexual attraction and a bit of irritation. “And it’s only 8:30. I didn’t realize you wanted to get started at the ass crack of dawn.”
“Your dear friend, Tweety Poo, woke me up at 5:00 this morning with his ungodly screeching,” he said. “Figured I might as well make good use of the time.”
“I’m not a morning person,” I grumbled.
“That makes two of us.” Jimmy laughed, and my heart did some sort of weird fluttery thing. Then he put down the roller and held out both of his fists. “Hey, pick a hand.”
The sun glinted off his nipple piercings, and the temptation to gawk at them was almost too much. I kept my eyes trained on his face as I pointed at his left fist. When he turned it over and opened his hand, there was nothing there.
“Wrong,” he said before opening the right hand. A Hershey kiss sat in the middle of his palm. I stared at it, not sure what his intentions were. He extended it my way, and I reared back a little when he invaded my personal space. “For you. A peace offering.”
“Oh.” Surprised by the random act of kindness, I picked it up, my eyes flitting from the silver-covered chocolate to Jimmy’s face. “Thank you.”
Unwrapping the candy, I popped it into my mouth. The chocolate melted on my tongue and my mood lifted.
Maybe Jimmy wasn’t so bad after all.
I sent him a grateful look and picked up my paint brush. Starting with the trim around the windows, I purposely chose a spot several feet away and we worked in silence for a while.
My phone pinged with a text, and I smiled when I saw who it was from.
Krista: Mom said you’re coming over this weekend!
Me: That’s the plan.
Krista: Why not today?
I almost laughed at her impatience. I could imagine her doing the puppy-dog eyes she had down to a science.
Me: I’m painting my neighbor’s house and trying to ignore her irritating grandson.
Krista: Painting and babysitting duty? Rough deal.
Me: Not quite. He’s an adult.
Krista: Is he hot??
I rolled my eyes. At fifteen years old, she was boy-crazy and too cute for her own good.
I snuck a peek at Jimmy, who seemed to be busy concentrating on his section of the house. Trying to be very discreet, I snapped a picture with my phone, then sent it to my sister.
Krista: Holy shit!! Please tell me you’re getting some.
Me: Don’t say shit. And no one is getting anything from anyone.
Krista: Boo. You’re no fun. Mom and Dad won’t even let me date yet.
Me: Good. Aren’t you supposed to be in school right now?
Krista: I am. It’s so close to the end of the year that the teachers don’t even care. Mr. Dennison is asleep.
A picture came through with the caption “Seriously”, and I couldn’t hold back the amused snort. The history teacher looked exactly how I remembered him. Bushy gray mustache and thick-rimmed glasses. His bald head was tilted back in his desk chair, his eyes closed and mouth open.
Me: My view is a lot better than yours.
Krista: No shit. Send another pic!
Me: Don’t say shit. And no.
The next message she sent me was a sticking-tongue-out emoji. I rolled my eyes again and slipped the phone back into my pocket. Then I noticed Jimmy was watching me with a sexy half-smile.
“What?” Heat crept up to my cheeks.
He paused, then shook his head. “Nothing.”
Nibbling at my lip, I tried to think of something to say because I wanted to be friendlier. Small talk wasn’t my strong suit, and I always ended up feeling awkward if I filled the silence with meaningless conversation.
Fortunately, Jimmy spoke up first.
“Listen.” He set the roller against the house and turned toward me. “I’m sorry about yesterday. You know, when I was kind of a jerk…”
“No, I’m the one who should be sorry,” I said with a shrug. “I was kind of a jerk, too.”
“Truce?” He walked over and held out his hand.
“Truce.” I placed my palm against his.
A spark ignited, and it felt like an electrical current ran up the length of my arm, down my belly, and into my clit.
Quickly jerking my hand away, I almost gasped.
What the hell was that?
Jimmy tilted his head to the side, confused at my reaction. Hell, I was confused, too. A steady throb started between my legs, wetness flooded my panties, and I had to fight the urge to rub my thighs together.
Needing to talk about anything that wasn’t remotely sexual, I directed my attention back to the house. “Are you sure this color isn’t a mis-tint?”
He chuckled before spreading more of the absurd hue over the bricks. “Nope. This is the color Grandma wanted. I asked her three times before she said, ‘Just paint the fucking house already.’”
My lips tipped up. “When she told me about the project last week, I thought she meant something subtle. Like sage or avocado. Not…” I waved my hand as I thought about what to call it.
“John Deere green?” Jimmy filled in.
A laugh burst out of me because that was the perfect description. I wasn’t sure if Beverly was trying to make her house stick out like a sore thumb, or blend in with the cornfields surrounding Tolson. Whatever her intention was, she succeeded in both areas.
I glanced over at Jimmy to find him gaping at me, his pouty lips slightly parted.
“What?” I asked, wiping at my
cheek with my forearm. “Do I have paint on my face?”
He closed the few feet between us and I held my breath as he brought his hand up to my face. Grazing my left cheek, his voice came out soft. “You have a dimple right here.”
My eyes closed as I allowed myself to soak up the gentle touch. My nipples tightened and something tumbled in my stomach. Sweat trickled down my neck, and I suspected it wasn’t just from the heat.
The contact didn’t last long. Jimmy’s hand fell away, and he gave me that sexy smirk again.
Maybe being friendly was a bad idea.
A really bad idea.
Feeling a little light-headed, I went back to painting as I reminded myself of all the reasons why I should stay away from someone like Jimmy.
I made her laugh. Grandma said Mackenna never even smiled, but I made her laugh.
That sound made my pulse speed up, made me feel out of breath.
I thought she was beautiful before, but when the grin stretched over her face and that dimple appeared…Holy fuck.
Completely awestruck, I was rendered speechless for several minutes, but not before I touched her.
I had to touch her.
It couldn’t have been my imagination the way she leaned into my hand. But after the moment was over, she put as much distance between us as possible. Literally. Picked up her paint bucket and worked at the opposite end of the house.
That stung.
We didn’t talk much for the rest of the morning. When I attempted to make conversation, she shut it down with short, closed-ended answers.
Frowning, I looked over at her as I refilled the paint tray.
She seemed lost in her thoughts as she tapped her foot and her head tilted from side to side, like she was listening to a song I couldn’t hear. Every now and then, her lips would move. I paused several times, staying as still as I could while straining to hear her.
“Got a song stuck in your head?” I asked, my curiosity finally getting the better of me.
The Good Guys Box Set: TRUCKER, DANCER, DROPOUT, and A Trucker Wedding Page 52