Caught Looking

by Holford, Jody;

  Ryan knew all about vices. He’d grown up in a home full of them and baseball had been his out. His old man used to tell Ryan he should thank him for teaching him how to be a heavy hitter. Ryan found it ironic that he’d become one of the best sluggers in baseball after growing up as a punching bag. When he’d last seen his dad, Ryan had to be pulled off of the old man.

  He washed down the unpleasant memory with another drink of his soda. Ryan was well aware the list of people he didn’t trust was far longer than the list of those he did. But even now, knowing how the world worked, it still felt like a foot on his throat to think of Cal and Victoria betraying him. Together and individually.

  “Shit.” He shook his head to clear his thoughts. He didn’t want to think about his cheating ex-wife or his backstabbing best friend. He was done with both of them. The only thing he truly missed about California was ball. But the game had changed for him. It was like going backstage at a play. Once you saw how the magic was made, some of it disappeared. Baseball was still magic for him but playing in the league wasn’t the same.

  He took a left on Windemere, past a large sign saying, “Angel’s Lake This Way.” Minnesota had lakes everywhere. It was getting too cold to enjoy the water, but once summer hit, he’d be taking advantage of all the access to outdoor activities. Ryan’s phone vibrated and sang with Max’s ringtone. He pushed the button on his steering wheel, connecting the call and killing the music.

  “Hey,” he greeted.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Driving. I was going stir crazy so I went into town. Picked up a soda at AM/PM and caused a little sideshow. Good times.”

  “You pick a fight?”

  “Blow me. I don’t start the fights.”

  Max’s loud laugh filled the cab of Ryan’s truck. “I’m pretty sure walking up to Cal in a restaurant and punching him in the face is starting it,” he said.

  Ryan frowned as he pulled into his driveway, the truck jostling over the gravel that led to the roundabout. “Yeah, well. I don’t start all of them. What do you want?”

  “Just called to say hey. Mom and Shay want to come see you,” Max answered, switching gears with the laidback ease of a man who let things roll off him.

  “Not yet. I’m not ready for company. I just got rid of you.”

  “You miss me and you know it.”

  He picked up his phone and transferred the call so he could turn the truck off, laughing at Max’s words. He grabbed his drink and locked up the truck, heading for his house.

  “Hardly. You’re…what the hell?” His words trailed off when his eyes landed on Frankie standing on the top rung of a ladder that she had leaning against her siding.

  “What?” Max asked.

  “Not you. Listen. I’ll give mom a call. Give Shay my love.” With that, he clicked off and wandered down the side of his yard where it dipped before leveling out. There were pieces of fence along their property line, broken and in need of repair. The wood here was barely up to his waist so he stepped over easily.

  “What are you doing?” He shielded his eyes from the sun as he looked up. Frankie looked down and his heart tripped at the casual way she waved, hanging on with only one gloved hand.

  “I’m cleaning the gutters,” she called back. He looked down and sure enough, there were branches, leaves, and trash littering the ground below her. Irritation prickled his skin. She was going to break her gorgeous neck.

  “Why the hell are you doing it?” He stood at the foot of the ladder and put his hands on it to keep it still.

  “Needs to be done,” she said, her laugh light, happy. She was cleaning a goddamn gutter, her hands in filth and debris and she was smiling. He continued to hold the ladder as she made her way down. He tried not to stare at her ass, covered in dark jeans, but lost that fight. This time when his heart jumped, it had nothing to do with worry and everything to do with wanting Frankie. He held onto his frustration like a lifeline because wanting her was not a good idea for either of them.

  When she approached the bottom rung, she turned, and since he hadn’t moved his hands, her body brushed against him. Even caged by his arms, she smiled. She wore no make-up, which surprised him. The women he knew, other than Shay and his mom, wouldn’t be caught outdoors without being “camera ready.” It was just one more thing that made her far too alluring. Her cheeks were pink from the air and her eyes were sparkling blue, like they were made of sequins.

  “Hi,” she said. She smelled like leaves and strawberries. He fucking loved strawberries.

  “You’ve got an army of kids in that house and you’re cleaning the gutters.”

  “It’s hardly an army. There’s not even enough for a good game of three on three,” she replied.

  His lips quirked. Why the hell did she have to be so cute? His hands stayed. “You like basketball?”

  “Not particularly. You?”

  “It’s not my sport.”

  Her eyebrows moved up in a rather odd gesture that somehow managed to look cute. Huh. She had no idea who he was and, for some reason, that made her even more desirable. The reasons to keep his distance kept piling up. Frankie was no one-night stand, and his track record proved he wasn’t good at anything more.

  “You going to keep me pinned here, neighbor?”

  “I’m thinking of it,” he admitted. And he was. He told himself to get some control. She was just a woman.

  “I should head back up,” she said. She was eager to get back to a grimy job because she was invested in making this shack a home. Yeah. She was a woman unlike any other he’d ever met.

  He shook his head and told her to wait right there. She looked amused at his tone but he didn’t care. Ryan stepped into her house and noted that the living room had recently been painted. The walls were a soft blue and the room looked bigger and homier. When the hell did she do this stuff? Three boys lounged on the couch. Carter had his legs stretched out so his feet were on the lap of another teen who looked just like him, only younger and softer, like the reality of life hadn’t hit him yet. Miles was sitting on top of Carter. They were all watching TV.

  “‘Sup?” Carter said.

  “What’s up is that Frankie is on a ladder while your lazy ass is laying on this couch,” he replied, leaning on the door jam. He wanted to go in and see how the rest of the house looked. The kid that had to be Travis watched him warily. Carter frowned.

  “You said ass,” Miles told him.

  “I did,” Ryan agreed. “You boys should be out helping her. Maybe not you, squirt, but you two get off your butts and get out there.”

  “Dude. Who are you?”

  Frankie came up behind him. “This is our neighbor. Ryan, that’s Travis. You met Carter and Miles earlier.”

  He looked over his shoulder. “You were supposed to wait out there,” he said. She laughed. The sound of it made his stomach tighten with lust. Don’t go there.

  She poked him in the side. “Do people always do what you say?”

  The boys got up off of the couch.

  “Only when I’m paying them actually,” Ryan answered, not happy with his own response. Because it was true.

  “I’ll pick up leaves for money,” Carter piped up, coming across the living room, his pants hanging low on his hips.

  “Me too!” Miles agreed vehemently before starting to cough.

  “How about she trades you room and board for you actually contributing. Get out there on that ladder. You go hold it for him. You,” Ryan pointed at Miles, who was waiting eagerly for his instructions. Jesus. The kid was cute. “You go supervise.”

  “Put a jacket on,” Frankie instructed. He didn’t know why, but all three of the boys shuffled out of the house and did as he asked, which left him alone with Frankie. Again. She moved further into the house, shut the television off, and turned to face him. Her cheeks were still red and her hair was escaping the high ponytail she was sporting. He wanted to run his hand down the length of it.

  “You’re very bossy,”
she commented.

  “You shouldn’t be up on that ladder when you’ve got an almost-grown man living in your house. For free,” he replied.

  He moved farther into the room, looked to the left, and saw the alcove to the kitchen. The carpeting was hideous, but she probably planned to pull it out. Some hardwood would look great.

  “Because I’m a woman?” she asked, no heat in her voice.

  Ryan looked back at Frankie. “No. Because from what you told me, you’re letting those boys live off you and if you want them to turn out to be responsible men, they should pitch in.” He came to stand in front of her, closer than he should. He couldn’t seem to help himself where she was concerned.

  Her brows furrowed, creating little wrinkles in her forehead. “Maybe I told you too much.”

  “Maybe. But you can’t undo things you wish you hadn’t done,” he said, feeling like he should go. More for himself than for her.

  She tilted her head and looked up at him. Her eyes were soft, impossibly blue. “That’s the truth. I can take care of myself, Ryan. Though I appreciate your concern.”

  She tapped his chest with her palm and he felt her hand through his sweater. The scent of strawberries was killing him, making him want to press his face against her and just inhale.

  “Where’s their family?” He resisted the urge to hold her hand against his chest.

  “From what I can tell, my aunt was it. Their mom died. They won’t talk about their dad. At all.”

  Ryan could relate. “Have you called the ministry? They have people for this…stuff, Frankie,” he said. He heard one of the kids yelling outside and went to look out the window. There was more gutter refuse on the lawn but currently, Miles—a wide grin on his face— was throwing it at Travis, who was hunched like he planned to attack.

  “The boys say that they’ll be split up. I called, anonymously, and it sounds like they’re right. It doesn’t seem fair. They’ve been through so much together,” she said, coming to stand beside him.

  Carter jumped off one of the lower rungs of the ladder and began chasing Miles. Ryan watched her from the corner of his eye while she laughed. He didn’t realize he was staring at her until she gave him a small shove.

  She looked as confused as he felt. “What?”

  Pressure was mounting against his ribs, making his chest too tight. “Nothing. I know people who wouldn’t do what you’re doing for people they love, never mind strangers,” he said quietly. She gave him a sad look.

  “Sounds like you know the wrong people.” She stepped into him and he realized that her voice was lower, affectionate. He wanted to pull her closer, take her face, and tilt it so that he could kiss her, accept the affection, the hint of caring. He wanted it so badly he ached. But he knew better.

  “Probably.” He stepped back and saw a combination of surprise and hurt cross her face. “I gotta go. Make those boys earn their keep.”

  When he walked outside, Carter glared at him and stepped back onto the ladder. Travis stopped smiling and went to hold the ladder. Miles threw leaves at him. He stepped toe to toe with the kid, who craned his head back to meet Ryan’s gaze.

  “Pretty brave, aren’t you?” Ryan said, trying not to smile.

  “Yup,” Miles answered, his wide grin showing a missing tooth.

  Ryan chuckled. “Make sure these boys finish this, okay?” Miles nodded. Ryan bent down and looked him in the eye. “And don’t run away again, all right?” Miles smile faded but he nodded once again.

  Ready to head back to his own house before he did something stupid like help out or kiss Frankie, he turned to go. Carter jumped off the ladder just as Ryan noticed the car coming up over the slight hill.

  “Inside, now.” The boys moved when Travis spoke and all three of them were gone before Ryan could blink. What the hell? The dark, sleek Lexus moved like it was going through a school zone but finally pulled up in front of Frankie’s house. Frankie joined Ryan outside. Worry lines creased her forehead. The car door opened.

  “I think I need a favor,” she said, so low he almost missed it. He looked down and saw her eyes were soft. Pleading. Fuck.

  Chapter 9

  “What?”

  “Don’t mention the boys.”

  Before he could respond, the car door slammed shut. They both looked up, watching a slick-suited man walk toward them. Ryan hated suits, but he knew them. And the one this guy wore cost big. His hair, blond from this distance with the sun behind him, was gelled to perfection. Messy, styled perfection. His wide, gleaming smile made Ryan think of the time he’d been asked to do a toothpaste commercial.

  Slick stopped in front of them and Ryan took an instinctual step closer to Frankie. “Hi there.“ His eyes darted between Ryan and Frankie, so fast someone else might have missed it. But someone else wasn’t used to slamming the shit out of a ball flying straight at them at ninety miles an hour, while knowing the exact second to swing.

  “I’m Cameron Ross. I live at the beginning of the street. Meant to get over here sooner and say hello, but it’s been a busy week,” he said, a bit of a drawl lilting his words. He held out a hand to Frankie.

  “Hi Cameron. I’m Frankie.”

  Cameron held out the same hand for Ryan but his eyebrows drew together, his polished smile showing uncertainty. His grip was strong and sure, even if his palm was damp.

  Aiming to be polite, Ryan didn’t wipe his hand on his jeans after the shake. “Ryan.”

  “You look familiar,” Cameron said to Ryan, but let it go at that.

  Cameron turned his gaze to Frankie, and Ryan noted the way his eyes wandered over her sweet curves. Ryan must have made some sort of sound because Frankie tried, poorly, to arch an eyebrow in amusement.

  “You two enjoying the neighborhood so far? I’m sorry about Beth. One of you was related to her?” Cameron put his hands in his pants pockets, at ease like he was shooting the shit with old friends.

  “Actually, she was my aunt. And thank you. You knew her?”

  “We’re a friendly community. She was a lovely woman,” Cameron said, his eyes not leaving Frankie’s. Frankie gave an unladylike snort, which made Ryan chuckle. Cameron’s cheeks turned red.

  “She had her moments,” Cameron restated.

  Frankie nodded. “Yes. She did. She could be difficult, but she was special. She had a bigger heart than I realized. “ Ryan caught the hint of sadness, of loss, in her tone, and almost put an arm around her.

  “I’m sure she’d be happy you’re both here. As you can see, she was one of our hold-outs on the gentrification project,” Cameron said, looking around.

  Frankie stiffened beside Ryan.

  “Uh, actually, Ryan lives next door,” Frankie said.

  “Oh. That works out well. I was headed there next,” Cameron said with far too much enthusiasm. Ryan worried he was going to try to shake his hand again so he tucked them in the pockets of his jeans. “You really do look familiar, Ryan.”

  His stomach cramped. “I get that a lot.”

  “So, you’re just helping a neighbor out?” Cameron gestured to the gutters and the ladder.

  “Not—”

  Frankie smacked her shoulder into Ryan’s, cutting him off and making him take a step to the side.

  “Yup. He is so sweet. Saw me up on the ladder and told me to get down,” Frankie said, smiling with her whole face. Ryan frowned at her. Sweet? Not bloody likely.

  “How chivalrous,” Cameron said. His tone didn’t match his words.

  “That’s me. Sweet and chivalrous,” Ryan said. He inched closer to Frankie, returning her wide smile with exaggerated glee.

  Cameron pulled out a leather wallet and handed them each a white card with his name embossed in gold.

  “Well, listen, I have to get going. I wanted to say hi and welcome you. I’m really pleased to have some new faces in the community. Frankie, if you need any help with contractors or suppliers to get you going on overhauling this place, you let me know. I have no doubt you want to g
et started on renovations soon. Ryan, maybe we can grab a beer sometime and I’ll figure out where I know you from.”

  He slipped his wallet into his back pocket and Ryan smirked at the word mayor under Cameron’s name.

  Frankie looked at Cameron then at Ryan. “Uh. Thank you?”

  “Nice to meet you,” Cameron said, shaking both of their hands again. This time Ryan’s first and Frankie’s a tad too long. He moseyed back to his slick car and folded his slick-suit-wearing body into the driver’s seat. Turning the ignition, he flashed them another smile and waved. Frankie put her hand up, but kept it still.

  “Mayor wants in your pants,” Ryan said, enjoying the sight of Frankie’s eyes going round as saucers.

  “You’re insane.”

  “Nope. I’m a man and we can sense these things. He wants in your pants so watch out.” Ryan didn’t want to think about how much the thought turned his stomach so he switched topics. “What the hell just happened there?” He looked back and forth between the house and Frankie.

  She shuffled her feet a second and then picked up a rake that was lying on the grass.

  “The boys recognized his car and they said he was the mayor. I guess he’s stopped at the shelter on the outside of town as well as the soup kitchen. They didn’t want him to see them here. I’m not sure which of us would have been in trouble,” she said, her eyes looking at him through long, thick lashes. Gorgeous lashes. God. Now he was noticing eyelashes?

  “Why would you be in trouble? If he’s the mayor, he would know exactly what to do,” Ryan said, leaning on the ladder.

  She stopped raking and narrowed her gaze at him. “Pretty sure you can’t call finders keepers on three kids, Ryan. So, I could be in trouble for that. Plus, if he wanted to, he could take the boys and then they’d get split up.”