Page 11 of Noble Neighbor
Instead of replying, she gave the proprietress a long,considering look. It had been years since she had anotherwoman to talk to, and this friendly and open person before her was someone she could see herself getting along with. “I think I could like you, too.”
Her confession earned her another hearty grin, and Bella indicated to her convoluted coffee machine.
“So long as its caffeinated, I’ll drink it. So, you know who I am?”
“Gosh, yes. The whole town’s been talking about the new owner of the Douglas farm. Newcomers are alwaysa curiosity. Last one we had was your sexy neighbor.”Bella shot her a conspiratorial wink, loading her machine.“And I don’t mean Frank.”
“Oliverisrather sexy,” Sunny admitted. Especially when he infiltrated her late-night thoughts. “But” — she held her hand up — “don’t get any ideas. I’m not on the market. Felicity can have at it.” And she would not wonder why her stomach soured at the thought of her hunky neighbor and the deputy together.
“Uh huh.”
“Really,” Sunny insisted.
“Girl, if we’re to become besties — and we will, mark my words — honesty is required. Oliver Armstrong is one fine man and” — Bella leaned forward to place the steaming cup before Sunny — “I bet he’s magic between the sheets.”
Hmm. A sweaty Oliverwasan appealing picture. Especially a sweaty Oliver as he moved over her. Movedinher.
Urgh.What waswrongwith her, imagining a man, one she’d met mere days ago, doing the dirty with her?
“Hah! I knew it.” Bella slapped her open palm on the counter, causing Sunny to jerk, spilling foam over the rim. “You’ve given a naked Oliver some thought.”
Sunny swiped the side of the cup. “Maybe.” Shereached for the napkin Bella held out, but as her fingerstouched the paper, it was jerked away. Her new friend stared, a stupid grin on her face as her brows disappeared under her bangs.
“Oh, all right.” Sunny grinned back. “You win.” She lowered her voice and admitted, “I might’ve given a certain man some … consideration. Likethat. But” — she held her hand up, forestalling a rebuttal — “that’s as far as it goes. I’m done with men.”
Bella frowned. “Bad divorce?”
See? Right there was the problem with having friends. They wanted to knowthings. Sunny inhaled deeply. She shook her head, exhaling sharply. “The girls’ father is dead.”
“Ah, shoot. Me and my big mouth. I’m so sorry. That’s dreadful.” Bella placed a hand on Sunny’s. “Was it recent? That why you moved? Too many— Whoa, and there I go, shooting my mouth off.” She shook her head. “Forget I asked.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s … been a while, but …”
But I don’t want to talk about it, nor explain why it won’t be fair to bring a man into my situation.
“This is great coffee, Bella. Maybe you can sell me some beans?”
“Now why would I do that?” she asked, grinning, accepting the change of topic. “I’d rather you come in here for your fix. And once the rug rats are in school, we can have us some serious girl time. Plan?”
Sunny held up her cup. “Sounds like a plan, Bella.”
After a pleasant hour chatting with her new friend, Sunny and the girls left, armed with a large bag of roasted beans and half a dozen books, one written by a new-to-her suspense author, A. C. Strong.
And as she found out later that night when she reluctantly closed the book at midnight, her neighbor could weave a plot that sucked one right in. His words were as dangerous as his compelling features.
4
Dirty laundry
With a disgruntled curse, Oliver shoved back from his desk and prowled his office. What the ever-loving hell was happening here? He’d dressed for his run, but instead of hitting the road, he’d taken position in front of his computer and started writing. The words flowed, yes, and he’d quickly reached his daily target, but …
Two-thirds into his fifth book and suddenly Dirk — alonePI, for pity’s sake — deviated from the plot and took on a new partner. Afemalepartner. One with pretty blue eyes and shiny brown curls, and a rounded ass he — Dirk — was dying to get his hand on.
Oliver flung open the French doors and stepped onto his veranda. “It’s all your fault,” he muttered, concentrating his gaze on the rambling house a mere half mile across the way.
Since she’d moved in twelve days ago, Sunny Jones hadn’t been far from his thoughts. And yesterday morning …
Well, yesterday he’d jacked off in the shower, all tooeasily imagining her ample curves — her very naked ample curves — rubbing up against him, her pretty blue eyes pleading for more.
