Page 4 of Taming the Wild Mountain Man

"Oh." That part is true. The neighbor on my other side, Mrs. Kingsley, is eighty-nine and said she can't hear a thing, so I never stopped to think about my late-night furniture-making noise carrying to my other neighbor. I'll be sure to close the shed door from now on. "Did she say anything else?"

Brock tightens the straps on his harness. "Like what?"

"I don't know. Nothing. Forget it."

I finish strapping myself into my harness, but Brock doesn't forget it. In fact, he seems to enjoy not forgetting it. "You mean, like how handsome you are. For an old man."

My eyebrows shoot up. "She said that?"

Brock chuckles. "No. But why do I get the feeling you wish she had?"

"Shut up." I finish getting ready and nudge him with my shoulder. "Let me show you how fast this old man can climb these ropes."

I push past him to start the training exercise, needing an excuse to stop thinking about the intriguing beauty next door and the fact that based on what Brock just told me, my slim chance of possibly asking her out one day has now plummeted intonever gonna happenterritory.

After training and much later that night, I'm in my shed, working on a bed frame. Nothing fancy. It doesn't need to be. Just something sturdy that does the job. Joanne from the LA Women's Shelter called again last week. They're in dire need of more beds. I've been making furniture for them whenever they request it these past few years. I may not have been able to do anything to help my mother, but that doesn't mean I can't do something small to help other women in similar situations.

Chewy is snoring away next to me, unbothered by the noise I'm making. Oh, shoot. The noise. Tenley.Enough noise to wake the entire neighborhood late at night.

Remembering her complaint, I walk over to the shed door, but before closing it, I glance over at her house. All the lights are out. It's past midnight, so no surprise there. I've only been inside the place once, so I know the master bedroom is at the far end. Tenley's probably asleep.

I shut the shed door quietly. I haven't seen as much of her as I would have liked. Our schedules don't align. I'm out at the crackof dawn, and she doesn't get back until much later. She doesn't seem to be home much on the weekends, either.

Still, the few glimpses I've caught of her play like a montage reel in my head. That one time I was in my front yard when she pulled up from work, looking all sexy and sleek in her dark-green, well-fitted suit that hugged her figure in all the right places.

The time she jogged past me—ignoring me, naturally—as I was taking out the trash, her long hair tied into a ponytail, swishing rhythmically, her cheeks flushed slightly, and her skin glowing in a light-blue tank top and high-waisted burgundy leggings.

At Schapelle's party. Even though she managed to avoid me the entire time, she looked amazing, laughing and chatting away with the other guests.

She is hands down the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen, but it's the easy confidence she exudes that's really captivated me. I've encountered many beautiful women in Hollywood who know they're beautiful and act accordingly. Tenley isn't like them. She's real and natural, and here I am, going on again about a woman who can't even stand me and is actively going out of her way to avoid me.

Maybe it's for the best. Maybe I need to stop obsessing over her. She's got to be at least two decades younger than me, so that basically rules things out anyway. Why would a gorgeous, young, smart, and successful woman like Tenley be remotely interested in me when she can have her pick of any guy her age?

I pick up my hammer and continue nailing the slats into place a little harder than before, determined to keep thoughts of Tenley to a minimum. I'm old enough to face the simple truth that if it hasn't happened by now, love just isn't in the cards for me.

3

Tenley

I let out a startled squeak as the door opens unexpectedly.

"What are you doing?" Hume asks, running a hand through his thick mane of hair. He's shirtless again, but I suppose I can overlook it this time since he is inside his own house.

I peel my eyes off his magnificent torso and lift the handwritten sign I was about to pin on his front door. "Here. This is for you."

He takes the paper from me, his thick fingers momentarily brushing against my hand, sending an unwanted shiver skating up my spine. His gaze drops to the note I wrote in response to enduring yet another night of him banging away in his shed. Admittedly, the noise seemed a little duller last night than previously, but still, who bangs away like that after midnight? What is he doing in that darn shed?

"Game on, Hume?" He reads my note as if it's a question, even though I clearly printed out every single letter in big bold caps. "Wait." He swings those silver-blue eyes my way, andYoda, help me, because they are sublime, an intriguing mix of winter frost and summer sky. "How do you know my name?"

A wave of heat rushes to my face as I struggle to come up with something better than,It's a small town."It's a small town," I eventually say when I'm unable to come up with anything better.

"That makes sense…Tenley."

My eyes widen in surprise, the heat from my face fanning down across my body. Do I…do I like that he knows my name? No. Of course not. Why would I even care that he's gone to the trouble of speaking to someone about me? Hmm. I wonder who. On second thought, no I don't. I couldn't care less. I'm mad at the guy.

I remind myself why I stomped over here to pin that note on his door in the first place and recalibrate accordingly. "If you insist on being a rude and inconsiderate neighbor, I have no choice but to retaliate in an equally rude and inconsiderate manner."

His gaze skates up and down my body, and I suddenly wish I was wearing something other than an oversized promotional T-shirt from a hotel safety summit I attended a few years ago with "Staying Safe is Staying Awesome" printed across the front and my favorite, albeit threadbare, comfy print pajama pants. I wasn't expecting him to be at home. He's usually gone by the time I wake up in the morning, and his work truck isn't parked in its usual spot in the driveway.

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