new house, Rambo,” I whispered as I shooed him inside. “Be a good boy and don’t dig, bark, or tear your doggy house to shreds, okay?”
He began inspecting the kennel right away, growling in the corners where I guessed a certain set of hands had spent a lot of time fastening nuts and bolts together.
“You’re not a big fan of Jude’s, are you?” I said, kneeling outside the kennel door. “Why is that?”
“Probably because dogs have great intuition.”
I was so startled by the voice behind me and its proximity to my neck that I stumbled back, falling on my butt. For a grand total of two times that day. At this rate, I was going to become the first prima klutz ever.
“Dammit, Jude,” I said as Rambo broke into a tirade. “There were these great one syllable words referred to as greetings that were invented so one person”—I motioned at him—“could alert another person before they—”
“Fell smack on their ass?” he finished, offering me that same grin that had been my undoing yesterday and, as my twisting gut was proving, today as well.
“Startled them,” I finished, about to push myself off the ground when he reached for my hands and pulled me up. I told myself the warmth, the heat, that trickled into my veins at his touch had everything to do with the hot as Hades summer day.
Even in my most authoritative voice, I wasn’t very convincing.
His smile ticked higher. His eyes flickered. He knew exactly what his touch was doing to me. And I hated that he knew.
“Sorry I startled you,” he said, letting go of my hands.
“Sorry you knocked me on my ass, you mean?” I smirked at him, wishing he wouldn’t look at me like he could see and hear everything taking place below my skin.
His eyes rolled to the sky. “I’m sorry for all prior, current, and future offenses I make in your presence.”
From behind, I heard Rambo start lapping up some water from his bowl. “All jokes and banter aside,” I said, “thank you. This is quite possibly the nicest thing anyone’s done for me.”
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he stared at me. “It was no big deal.”
“Yeah, it is,” I said, not about to let him wave this off as no big thing. “Although I’m curious as to how you got this thing built without anyone hearing or noticing.”
“It helps that I’m a fence making ninja,” he said, giving me a twisted smile, “and it also helps that I live next door.” Pointing his chin at the next cabin over, he arched a brow at me and waited.
“It was your family that bought the place from the Chadwicks last fall?” I asked, gazing at the A-frame cabin next door. I’d been under the impression it was still vacant.
“Yes, indeedy.”
“You’re my neighbor?” It was every teenage girl’s American dream to have a neighbor like Jude, so why did my stomach feel like I’d just swallowed a brick?
“No,” he said, rubbing his hand over his mouth, trying to mask his smile. “You’re my neighbor.”
“Well,” I sighed. “There goes the neighborhood.”
He nodded once, those gray eyes of his so light today they were the color of nickels. “There it goes.”
Three words. Three words accompanied by that look, performed by those eyes, emitted from that man.
I was lucky my knees weren’t buckling beneath the weight of that swoon.
“So,” Jude scanned me, “neighbor, how does Friday night sound?”
“It sounds like Friday night,” I smarted back, thankful the strong, very unswoony pieces of me were coming back together. No man, a level short of divinity or not, would render me into a sighing, batting eyelashes, love sick maniac.
“Weak, Luce,” he said, clucking his tongue. “We’re going to have to work on the speed and sharpness of your comebacks if you’re going to spend much time with me. I’m hard to keep up with.”
“Easy solution to that then,” I said, crossing my arms and leaning back into the kennel. “I won’t spend much time around you.”
“So
He began inspecting the kennel right away, growling in the corners where I guessed a certain set of hands had spent a lot of time fastening nuts and bolts together.
“You’re not a big fan of Jude’s, are you?” I said, kneeling outside the kennel door. “Why is that?”
“Probably because dogs have great intuition.”
I was so startled by the voice behind me and its proximity to my neck that I stumbled back, falling on my butt. For a grand total of two times that day. At this rate, I was going to become the first prima klutz ever.
“Dammit, Jude,” I said as Rambo broke into a tirade. “There were these great one syllable words referred to as greetings that were invented so one person”—I motioned at him—“could alert another person before they—”
“Fell smack on their ass?” he finished, offering me that same grin that had been my undoing yesterday and, as my twisting gut was proving, today as well.
“Startled them,” I finished, about to push myself off the ground when he reached for my hands and pulled me up. I told myself the warmth, the heat, that trickled into my veins at his touch had everything to do with the hot as Hades summer day.
Even in my most authoritative voice, I wasn’t very convincing.
His smile ticked higher. His eyes flickered. He knew exactly what his touch was doing to me. And I hated that he knew.
“Sorry I startled you,” he said, letting go of my hands.
“Sorry you knocked me on my ass, you mean?” I smirked at him, wishing he wouldn’t look at me like he could see and hear everything taking place below my skin.
His eyes rolled to the sky. “I’m sorry for all prior, current, and future offenses I make in your presence.”
From behind, I heard Rambo start lapping up some water from his bowl. “All jokes and banter aside,” I said, “thank you. This is quite possibly the nicest thing anyone’s done for me.”
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he stared at me. “It was no big deal.”
“Yeah, it is,” I said, not about to let him wave this off as no big thing. “Although I’m curious as to how you got this thing built without anyone hearing or noticing.”
“It helps that I’m a fence making ninja,” he said, giving me a twisted smile, “and it also helps that I live next door.” Pointing his chin at the next cabin over, he arched a brow at me and waited.
“It was your family that bought the place from the Chadwicks last fall?” I asked, gazing at the A-frame cabin next door. I’d been under the impression it was still vacant.
“Yes, indeedy.”
“You’re my neighbor?” It was every teenage girl’s American dream to have a neighbor like Jude, so why did my stomach feel like I’d just swallowed a brick?
“No,” he said, rubbing his hand over his mouth, trying to mask his smile. “You’re my neighbor.”
“Well,” I sighed. “There goes the neighborhood.”
He nodded once, those gray eyes of his so light today they were the color of nickels. “There it goes.”
Three words. Three words accompanied by that look, performed by those eyes, emitted from that man.
I was lucky my knees weren’t buckling beneath the weight of that swoon.
“So,” Jude scanned me, “neighbor, how does Friday night sound?”
“It sounds like Friday night,” I smarted back, thankful the strong, very unswoony pieces of me were coming back together. No man, a level short of divinity or not, would render me into a sighing, batting eyelashes, love sick maniac.
“Weak, Luce,” he said, clucking his tongue. “We’re going to have to work on the speed and sharpness of your comebacks if you’re going to spend much time with me. I’m hard to keep up with.”
“Easy solution to that then,” I said, crossing my arms and leaning back into the kennel. “I won’t spend much time around you.”
“So
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