Now, ever since Courtney showed up, he found himself staring across the street in the middle of the night, wondering what she was doing, thinking.
“I might need a few things,” he said.
She needs you to protect her.
Since when did his conscious turn into the voice of Courtney’s grandmother?
“Oh, I planned on helping. I just need to get the cake in the oven and put the French toast in the refrigerator. I’ll be right out.” After blowing a few more times at the stray clump of hair, she finally tucked it behind her ear. “What?” She tilted her head, still smiling.
“Nothing.” Nothing except Courtney didn’t have a clue about the kind of effect she had on him. Or any man for that matter.
The tiny, little tank top she wore clung to her rounded breasts and itty-bitty waist. The fabric stopped just short of her narrow hips. Her butt, and best asset, filled out her jeans, showing off every curve. He tried not to gape at her chest, but that was proving to be almost as impossible as it had been when they were kids. He remembered trying to cop a feel more than once, even before he’d kissed her. “I’ll meet you in the garage.”
He surveyed the damage the raccoons accomplished and chuckled. As a kid, he’d purposely put food around Courtney’s tent one night when she’d had a campout with some friends. Watching them scream and run from the backyard to the house in their pajamas had been one of the highlights of his teenage years.
“Christ,” he mumbled as he started to pick up what he could and toss it back in the garbage. He worked fast and furious, trying to rid his mind of stupid fantasies and runaway memories. He wasn’t a teenager anymore. He was a grown man, and the thoughts of him and Courtney were nothing but a childhood dream. He had more important things to consider—like finding that damned burglar.
“I need a bucket of water,” he yelled as he pushed open the door.
“Okay,” she yelled back. “Where do you want it?” She appeared in the doorway, holding a large bucket in her hands and a wicked smile that told him she was up to no good.
“Don’t even think about it.” His heart now hammered in his throat. “Just set it on the step, please.”
Thankfully, she did as he requested, then folded her arms across her middle, under her perfectly rounded breasts, and this time, he couldn’t rip his gaze away if he tried. He had no idea how much time passed, probably just seconds, but it didn’t matter. “You grew up nice,” he managed.
“Thanks.” Her killer smile sent his mind reeling with questions and his hormones on a search and rescue mission.
“You’re not so bad yourself, at least in the looks department,” she said.
He scowled. “What does that mean?”
“You’re as sexy as ever, but you’re so uptight. The Owen I remember was fun and carefree. You must not get enough sex.”
He bent and brushed the rest of the junk onto the dustpan, then tossed it into the garbage. “I think I’m a little too old to be carefree. This town depends on me, and my sex life isn’t a part of that equation.”
“I think it’s okay for you to have a private life.” She chuckled.
He lifted his head and arched a brow. “No one is saying I don’t.”
“Right. You go out with women all the time.”
“I date, sometimes,” he said, swallowing the thick lump in his throat.
“Actually, you don’t.” She cocked her head.
“Neither do you, that I can tell, but what does that have to do with anything?”
“Don’t get defensive, but you don’t seem happy.”
He pondered his blissfulness as he took the bucket of water and poured some on the garage floor. “I’m content.” Well, he sure as hell wasn’t unhappy, was he? He had the perfect job, and the town loved him. What more could a man ask for?
You’re far from content.
Momentarily, he ignored that comment, mostly because Courtney had started to sound like her grandmother. So, he continued cleaning the floor. When he was satisfied that not a speck of food had been left behind, he set aside his squeegee and turned his attention to her. “What makes you think I’m not happy?”
She shrugged, taking in a deep breath. As her chest rose, her nipples pushed against the thin fabric. “You’re always so serious. You rarely laugh and barely speak. You seem lonely.” She stepped aside, letting him in the house.
But he wasn’t sure where to go. The kitchen? The family room? Home? “I’m not lonely. I’ve got my brother’s family here, and did I tell you my sister is moving back home?”
“No, but I knew that. I heard she wants your parents’ house.”
“And I’ll give it to her. She’s pregnant, and well, I don’t need a big house anyway.” And he wasn’t lonely. Not one bit. He smelled the amazing aromas coming from down the hall. A combination of chocolate, vanilla, and some cinnamon spice tickled his senses.
“Okay, so you’re not lonely. But I thought we’d pick up where we left off when I moved back here, but you don’t even notice me. It’s almost like we were never friends. And I don’t see you out all that much.”
“That was a long time ago, and it’s not like we kept in touch over the years.” As he stood in the doorway to the kitchen, he could see the front door out of the corner of his eye. He should leave. His crazy thoughts would get him in trouble, but something in the back of his mind told him to stay.
“Grandma always told me what you were up to.”
“I got reports on you too. Can I have a beer?” he asked. Lilly Nash had always made it a point to talk about Courtney, especially when he’d been living with Natalie. Probably part of the reason Natalie moved out
