“Hmm. The dry spell is for work?”
She choked a bit but recovered quickly. “No. The article.”
He took the glass of water from her hand and swallowed down the last of it. He smiled again, fully and completely. Even if she could’ve thought of a snappy comeback, the words would have stuck in her throat. The man had a great smile. And eyes that saw too much without giving away his own thoughts.
“You’re a writer?”
“Yes. I write freelance for several women’s magazines and blog sites,” she said. She shrugged, readying herself for the look of amusement that generally followed that statement.
“Cool. My sister-in-law loves reading those how-to articles. Though, since she’s married to my brother, she probably wouldn’t need that one.” Ryan gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. He watched her for several long seconds then placed the glass on the counter and took a step closer. The smell of his soap invaded her space, making it difficult to think.
She cleared her throat. “What do you do for work?” Frankie was confused by the look of surprise on his face. He said nothing, but his look was intense, like he was trying to read in the dark.
A slow, sexy smile crept onto his lips. “Nothing right now. I’m on a leave. You know, I could help. With the dry spell. Just to be neighborly.” She could tell by the hint of teasing in his gaze that he was trying to muddle her brain. And it worked. Thoughts of what he did for work fled, making room for anticipation.
Grinning, she stepped into him. Her heart beat too hard in her chest. “You’re such a liar. You’d run scared before getting to the good stuff.”
She was calling his bluff but she also knew she was playing with fire. Arrogant men, fire, and clichés. All things she knew to avoid. He moved forward instead of back as she’d anticipated he would. The front of their bodies touched. The sparks of awareness that spread through her were more than unnerving. They were disarming. Fixing her eyes on the fabric of the shirt covering his wide chest, she held herself perfectly still. As long as she didn’t look up, she figured he’d just back up, back off and they could laugh about it. Instead, he leaned down and his lips touched her ear, making her shiver. His warm breath intensified the tickling sensations flying over her skin when he spoke.
“You couldn’t handle the good stuff,” he said. She could hear the humor in his voice and it lightened the tension enough that she smiled. Taking a chance, she looked up. Their faces were close and it was hard not to stare at his lips. She could feel his warm breath on her skin. Butterflies danced in her chest wildly.
“You seem pretty sure.”
He didn’t even attempt to keep his eyes off her lips. He looked at them like they were all he could see.
His voice was low, sexy. “It’s a bad idea.”
“Because I remind you of your mom?”
“Damn, don’t bring up my mom right now. And I said you sound like her. You look nothing like her,” he said, his face still way too close for her to keep resisting. How could she feel like laughing while they were this close and she was working hard not to lean in and inhale him? Devour him.
“Well that’s something. But you’re probably right,” she said.
Their eyes locked. His eyes were dark and narrowed, and they made her want him more.
“Bad idea?”
She nodded in response and stepped back, hitting the counter. He moved with her, closing in.
“I’m curious how bad though,” he whispered, right before his lips touched hers.
She expected him to move in slow and easy. He didn’t. His lips touched hers and it was like pressing the on switch for both of them. His hands found her face and her own went to his waist. He moved in, one leg going between hers. It wasn’t slow and it wasn’t easy. His tongue outlined her lips, making her gasp, and then he was kissing her like he might not get another chance. She gripped the sides of his shirt and went up on tiptoe to get closer. His hands stayed on her face, cradling it, but she felt him everywhere. She moved her hands up over his chest, impressed by its hard lines and contours.
When she wound her arms around his neck, he finally moved his hands and used them to glide down her body and pull her tightly against him. And then he stopped like he’d started: sudden and unexpected. He stepped back and stared at her as though he was surprised to see her there. His breathing was stilted and she would have felt nervous if his eyes weren’t dark with desire. She bit her lip and fought off a shiver.
“So, pretty bad?” she asked.
He nodded his head once, his gaze hot and steady, then shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Spectacularly bad.” He rocked back on his heels, keeping his eyes locked on hers so she felt like he was still touching her. She could still feel the heat of his hands on her body and her own breathing was unsteady
“At least now we know,” she said, her smile forced. She didn’t really like knowing that her next-door neighbor could kiss so well that he made her feel like she was coming apart from the inside.
“Yeah. Now we know. If that kiss is anything to go by, we know that getting together would possibly kill us both.”
She laughed. God, she’d never met a man who could make her laugh while she was still coming down from a post-kiss high. He was looking at her lips again.
“So for our own health, it would be best to stay away from each other?” She heard the knock on her front door but kept her eyes on his face, trying to read his expression. He glanced toward the living room. His back stiffened and his frown was back.
“It’s for the best. For our health and for your sanity. Trust me, I’m a bad bet.”
The sadness in his tone surprised her and reminder of Miles’s feelings that morning. She bit down on the urge to tell him he wasn’t, to tell him he was wrong. Before she could say anything else, Ryan schooled his expression, making it blank. She ignored the prickle of hurt the abrupt change caused. Fool me once, she thought, before stopping herself. She walked to the door and he followed behind. He was just as quiet, but this time, she could feel him at her back. Cameron stood on the other side and his friendly smile wavered slightly when he saw Ryan behind her. Ryan’s smile, however, widened and he stepped closer to Frankie, making her want to elbow him.
“Oh. Hey, you’re both here,” Cameron said. His eyes flashed between them, and Ryan inched closer. She enjoyed Ryan’s muffled grunt when she stepped back onto his foot.
“Hi Cameron. How are you?”
Despite the rustling wind outside, Cameron’s hair didn’t move a bit as he gave Frankie a warm smile.
“Cam.” Ryan’s hands brushed against her ass and she almost yelped in surprise, but then he crossed them over his chest. Great. Commence pissing contest.
“Cameron, not Cam. And you’re Ryan Walker,” Cameron said, pointing a finger at Ryan, like they shared an inside joke. Frankie looked back at Ryan and saw his face had paled. His jaw tightened and his eyebrows furrowed together.
“I need to go.” Ryan pushed past Frankie and Cameron, his long stride eating up the ground between her yard and his. Frankie closed her mouth when she realized it was hanging open. Ryan’s moods swung with dizzying speed.
Chapter 12
“Well.” Frankie didn’t know what else to say, but she didn’t particularly want Cameron in the house. Miles’s sweater was lying on the back of the couch. If he thought it was strange that she didn’t invite him in, he said nothing.
“Sorry about that. I wondered if he was keeping his identity on the down low purposely,” Cameron said, at ease on her front stoop. What identity? Frankie stared after Ryan but he was no longer outside.
Cameron followed her gaze. “You do know who he is?”
“Uh—Ryan? Walker?”
Cameron laughed but it didn’t have the same effect on her belly as Ryan’s did. Not that she was comparing them. But if she was, Cameron didn’t make her want to add fantasizing to her list.
“He is that. He looked familiar and I couldn’t figure out w
hy. He played baseball for the Dodgers and the Padres,” Cameron said.
Frankie got the impression she was supposed to be wowed by this fact. She wasn’t much of a sports person and couldn’t recall ever watching a baseball game. None of the men in her life followed anything other than golf. Cameron smiled, his eyes happy when she didn’t react with awe. Stepping closer, she caught the oaky smell of his cologne, but it didn’t make her stomach dip like her other neighbor’s. She glanced again at Miles’s sweater. It was generic. Cameron wasn’t going to see it and say, “Hey, do you happen to have three boys hiding in here?” Was it illegal? It couldn’t be. They didn’t belong to anyone. Including her. The thought tightened Frankie’s chest.
“I don’t watch sports. Or play them,” she said. She kept her breathing even and urged her pulse to settle. Cameron nodded, like that was expected.
“I’m more of a football fan. But be careful. He’s known for more than just baseball.”
Frankie crossed her arms over her chest, her jaw clenching.
“Oh?” She tilted her head.
“Yeah. I don’t mean to gossip, but it’s all over the internet anyway. Lots of philandering, wild parties, drugs,” Cameron said, leaning in a little like they were sharing state secrets. Did people still say philandering?
“He seems…harmless enough,” Frankie said, almost choking on the words. Thinking of Ryan’s mouth on hers, the heat of his body, the feel of his chest under her hands, harmless might have been the wrong word choice. Hot. Intense. Moody. Sexy. She wouldn’t have pegged him as a drug user—but what did she know? Maybe instead of getting caught up in the sight of him, she should do a little research.
“Well, just watch out for yourself. You can’t be too careful.” The words were good-natured in tone, but Frankie suspected the warning was not. “Anyway, I came to invite you to a neighborhood gathering I’m hosting next week. Nothing formal.” Unclenching her jaw, Frankie relaxed her shoulders. Safe ground.
“Oh. Okay. That’s nice of you. What can I bring?”
His smile was polished, like he’d practiced in the mirror. “Just you.”
She’d been around enough men, dated enough, to see the look of interest in Cameron’s eyes. It certainly would be easier to get tingles for a man who wanted to be interested. But she couldn’t ignore the fact that Ryan, whether he wanted to or not, had her attention. She’d just have to be careful about giving him her heart. She needed to be clear with Cameron about her feelings without offending him. Leading someone on wasn’t her style, but neither was just blurting out, nope, sorry, not interested.
“Okay,” she replied, ignoring his intent gaze.
“And maybe some other time, we could grab dinner. There are a couple great restaurants downtown,” he finally said.
She nodded. “Sure. It’s great to make new friends. Plus, with you being the mayor, I’d love to learn more about what you support and the things that matter to you.” Frankie checked her watch. She still had to write.
He glanced at his own watch. “I’d be happy to discuss my vision for our town with you. Of course, one of the main ones is getting all of these houses up to the new community standards. We can talk about that as well, but for now, I should get going. I have a meeting. Now that the weather is getting colder, we’re having more problems with our homeless population.”
Frankie’s throat went dry but she spoke anyway. “But there’s a shelter, right?”
“There is but, honestly, there’s not a lot of money or time spent keeping it running,” he said.
“Are you working to change that?”
“I’m working to keep our communities safe. The meeting I’m headed to is to see what we can do about getting them off the street. If you’re ever interested in helping out, we have an all-town meeting once a month.” He stepped onto the walkway, checking his watch once more. With a soft, approachable smile, he pulled out his keys and panic burst in her chest. This could be the opening she needed. Before she could blurt out her secret, he winked and turned to head to his car, and the moment was gone.
Shutting the door behind him, she let her head fall against the wood.
She went back to her article after a moment of deep breathing. She knew she was getting herself in deeper with the boys. And with Ryan. Just thinking about him made her face flush. What was wrong with her? She needed to work. She needed to make some more calls about the boys. Maybe talk to the shelter. The point was, she had plenty to occupy her mind. And still, the only thing she saw when she closed her eyes was Ryan’s face. She could still feel his lips against hers, his hands gripping her tightly as he fought his own desire and then smoothing out when he surrendered.
Unsurprisingly, writing a fun, sensual piece was easier to do with the feel of Ryan’s body pressed up against hers burning in her memory. If she wasn’t careful, she could get lost in that memory, in thoughts of him. He’d said wasn’t a good bet and even though she’d glimpsed enough to see that wasn’t true, she didn’t need a man she had to convince.
Might be time for some company, she thought. Perhaps she could invite Chloe for a visit. The idea settled the restlessness inside of her head and her fingers flew over the keyboard. She promised herself the reward of phoning Chloe when the article was finished and sent off to her editor. She had another to finish before the boys got back. She didn’t need any of them wondering why she was writing about dry spells, how to tighten stomach muscles, or get the best cleavage. They could discover these secrets on their own one day.
Chapter 13
The kid grunted more than he talked but Ryan was impressed with his strength and stamina. After leaving Frankie, he’d been so revved up on desire, he hadn’t trusted himself to go back without finishing what he shouldn’t have started. So when he’d seen the boys coming home that afternoon, he called Carter over and asked the kid if he was interested in making some cash. As he expected, Carter had agreed.
Whether the kid had discussed it with Frankie, Ryan didn’t know, but Carter was currently moving wood from Ryan’s truck to the garage. They’d worked all morning putting up shelving, and while Carter had stacked wood, Ryan had built the solid frame for a workbench. It had been so long since he’d had a chance to work with his hands.
His contract had specifically stated that he would avoid any hobbies that could lead to injuries—his love for woodworking was well known throughout the league. He was almost as good at turning out unique pieces of furniture as he was at hitting a ball. His brother had bugged the hell out of him when Ryan had complained about the line in his contract. Someone making seven figures ought to be able to choose their own goddamn hobbies. Max had told him to suck it up and try crocheting. Ryan let him know what he could do with that idea.
“Here, take a break,” Ryan said to Carter, passing him a can of soda. Carter wiped some of the sweat that had dripped down his forehead through the bandana he’d tied around his head.
“Thanks,” he answered.
Ryan leaned back against the workbench and eyed Carter over his own can. “You’re a hard worker.”
Grunt. Ryan arched his eyebrows waiting for the kid to say something.
Carter gestured to the large sports bag taking up a whole shelf in the garage. “You play sports?”
Frustration tightened Ryan’s chest, but he answered anyway. “I did.” He waited. Waited for the questions about Victoria. Cal. Drugs. His suspension and did he really punch someone out in a crowded restaurant?
“Cool. What’d you play?”
Ryan nearly choked but managed to swallow instead. He wasn’t sure of Carter was messing with him. Though he and his brothers had a lot going on so it wasn’t impossible that they’d been unable to keep up with sports. The kid waited, taking a long swallow of his own soda.
“Baseball,” Ryan said skeptically, still waiting for Carter to say he knew exactly who he was. Ryan had always been surprised at how well perfect strangers claimed to know him. Most people didn’t know shit. Certainly not about him
or his life or how fucking hard he’d worked to get where he wanted to be. Or how bad it hurt when he’d had it stripped away. Carter’s eyes perked up and his lips almost formed a smile.
“Only thing I liked about school,” Carter said, finishing off his can.
Ryan shook off the bitterness that churned in his gut. “You graduate?”
Carter shook his head and his eyes shuttered. He crushed the can and tossed it into the recycling bin Ryan had on the other side of the garage. Ryan nodded. Not bad. If you liked basketball.
“You any good at baseball? You watch it on TV?” Ryan pushed off the table and went to one of the well-treated storage boxes he’d had specially made for his bats. He’d had a room at his old house for his stuff but since moving here, he hadn’t felt much like pulling any of it out. Why pull the past out of a box when you’d so neatly stored it away? Carter started moving wood again before he answered.
“Nah. Didn’t have a TV when we were younger. Most of the time I was taking care of my brothers, going to school. Frankie says she ordered a new TV. The one that Aunt Beth had is sh—junk. She said we couldn’t watch any blow ‘em up movies. Her words. But she didn’t say nothing about sports,” Carter said, placing two-by-fours in neat piles. Ryan could hear the affection in Carter’s voice. He understood it, as he was, unfortunately, feeling pretty affectionate toward his neighbor after the kiss they’d shared a few days ago. A kiss he’d initiated and one that he couldn’t get out of his head. God, it had been sweet and sexy all wrapped up in a gorgeous blond package.
“Frankie’s a nice woman.” Ryan brought one of the boxes over to the table and set it down. He’d need to move some stuff into the house before the hard weather hit. Carter snorted and gave a genuine laugh.
“Nice? She’s like a fairy godmother, dude. And she’s smokin’ hot,” Carter replied. Ryan couldn’t disagree. He also couldn’t help wondering what would happen to these boys when the clock struck midnight for them. Frankie needed to talk to someone about finding a place for them. Not that it was his business.
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