Chapter 2
HEATHER STOOD IN HER
front yard, staring down the street, trying not to gawk at the sexy fireman wearing nothing but shorts and sneakers as he mowed Mrs. Baker’s yard, sweat beading across his muscled chest. His six pack abs flexed as he twisted the mower, making the corner by the driveway. Even from three doors down, she could see every single detail of his chiseled body.
She’d looked up his file after he’d dropped her off and was shocked that he had such a huge aversion to being seen by the dentist. The fact that the hygienist indicated this fear was from a childhood trauma, fascinated Heather.
But not enough to ask him about it.
She rubbed her arms, remembering the searing pain the last time her ex-husband had put his hands on her. Jeff had a similar build to Rowen. Tall, muscular, powerful, and handsome as all get out. Jeff had been kind and sweet during their courtship. Even their first few months of marriage had been bliss. She’d been so in love with him, she didn’t think life could be any better.
She never imaged how bad it could get.
Or how quickly.
The roar of the lawn mower engine cut out. Rowen yanked off his headphones.
“Let me finish up here, shower, and I’ll bring your keys over,” he shouted, sporting a small smile as his large, thick fingers scratched his sweaty chest.
“Great. Thanks.” It had only been a little over a year since her divorce, and for the first few months, Jeff had left her alone. Lately, however, Jeff had been calling and texting wanting to talk, swearing he’d changed. But even if he had changed his ways, her love for him died the moment his fist connected with her cheek.
Rowen slid his earphones on, strutting back up the lawn. She blinked, annoyed by the physical pull he had over her, and it wasn’t just his hunky looks with his short, dark hair, perpetual five o’clock shadow, and his rock-hard body.
It was him.
All of him.
Everyone she’d met so far in the neighborhood said she had to meet Rowen Clark, the nicest, sweetest, kindest, fireman in the world.
Yeah, well, everyone thought Jeff was a nice guy, too.
She flung her bag over her shoulder before walking briskly to her front door. She’d spent the last three months living in two different cities, looking for not only a quiet place to live away from her ex, but a practice she could be proud of.
A new start.
Buying this house was more than a fresh beginning after a bad marriage.
The purchase was the first step in regaining her independence as well as her self-respect.
She kicked off her shoes and tossed her bag on the sofa in the family room, smiling. The white upholstered sofa with light blue ribbing she’d purchased at a local department store might not be in the same caliber as the designer-brand living room she and Jeff had at their five-thousand-square foot home in a posh section of Houston, but it was hers.
Relishing in the idea she could make it without Jeff and his money, she made her way up the staircase of her quaint, eighteen-hundred square foot, modest home, with a spring in her step that even harsh memories couldn’t take away. Not now. Not ever again.
She fought to temper her growing resentment of how Rowen ignited the woman inside at the same time his sheer size and power terrified her. She wanted to get past her fears of men, because deep down, she knew most men were not like Jeff. He’d had a darkness living inside him that he’d hidden from her until one day he couldn’t control the beast anymore. She shivered, pushing out the idea that she should have known the kind of man she had married. Hindsight allowed her to funnel back through her life with Jeff and find all the warning signs. But living in the day to day, those hard looks, the way he’d clench her arm just a fraction too tight for the pressure to be considered normal, those clues got lost.
Snagging her favorite shorts and t-shirt, she quickly changed as the hot Dallas heat slipped off her body like a waterslide. She stared at herself in the mirror, picturing the bruises on her face and the humiliation the day she drove up to her parent’s house. While they’d both been mortified and wanted to strangle their son-in-law, a small part of them didn’t want to believe their little girl could let such a thing happen.
A concept she knew well.
But she hadn’t let anything happen.
She took a cotton ball, dabbing it with makeup remover and rubbed her eyes with it. She didn’t wear much, but what she did wear, she preferred to remove it when in the comforts in her own home, something Jeff would throw a hissy fit over.
“My wife needs to always look her best, even at home,” Jeff would say.
Sadly, she’d been intoxicated by the ritz and glitz of his country club lifestyle, and she had enjoyed all the perks his family’s wealth provided her, so much that she let the first time he got physical with her slide.
Even though she accepted she’d been a victim, the fact that she stayed for as long as she did was on her, a fact that she’d never deny, simply because if she did, she’d probably let Jeff back in, or someone else like him.
She quickly washed her face and brushed her teeth before heading back downstairs, snagging a pre-made salad from the fridge. She figured sitting on the front stoop, waiting for Rowen to show up with her keys was better than waiting for him to bang on the door, because there was no way in hell was she letting him set foot her in home.
By the time she’d sat down on the front steps, salad and a glass of wine in hand, Rowen had disappeared from Mrs. Baker’s yard. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to wait too long before he’d show up and then she could slink back into the comfort of her safe zone.
The laughter of children from across the street tugged at her heart. Besides wanting to be a dentist, being a mother had been one of her biggest dreams in life. Old fashioned as that was, she wanted to share her dreams with a man she loved and trusted. Not that she’d give up her career. No. She’d worked too hard for that. However, she believed both career and family could be balanced, something Jeff didn’t understand.
But she’d given up on having children because being around a man made her uncomfortable. She’d actually tried going out on a date once, but kissing him had made all the horrid memories prickle her skin.
Maybe in another year or so she’d be ready.
Rowen made her body tingle with desire and that disturbed her on so many different levels, but she chose to ignore them all.
Focusing on the girls across the street playing hopscotch, she scarfed down her salad and sipped her wine. The sun disappeared behind the horizon, but the temperature didn’t drop a single degree. Not that she cared that much. The heat was so much better than when her father had been stationed outside of Russia. She’d rather be sweating then having her lips turn blue.
She stretched her legs out crossing her ankles, and leaned back, angling her face toward the setting sun. The sounds of the birds chirping mixed with the high-pitched screams of delight coming from children playing filled her ears and tickled her skin. The moment she'd driven down this street she knew she’d found home. The houses weren’t so close together that you might as well be on your neighbor’s lap. Thick lush trees only added to the quaintness of the neighborhood.
As a little girl, she dreamed of living in a place just like this, where neighbors looked out for one another instead of one-upping them with the newest model Jag. How quickly she’d gotten caught up in the privileged lifestyle, right down to her three-hundred-dollar haircut.
“Hey,” a dark, husky voice pulled her from her thoughts.
Her body jerked and a small trickle of wine drizzled down between her breasts.
“Shit,” she muttered, setting her glass down before she glanced up.
“I’m sorry,” Rowen said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“I didn’t hear you coming.” Just as she was about to stand up, he sat down on the stoop, smelling of fresh soap and a splash of husky aftershave. The scent rolled across her nostrils, sending signals to her body, reminding her she was indeed a woman.
Ugh.
She didn’t want a tall, hunky, muscular man that women swooned over. A nice, balding, boring accountant who came home every day after work and enjoyed being boring. No glitz. No glamor. Just average.
“My grandmother always gets mad at me when I sneak up on her. She says it’s rude, but loves it when I do it to my mother who will scream bloody hell.”
“It is rude.” Heather smiled, though she didn’t want to. “And I won’t scream if you do it again. Instead, I might toss my wine on you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” He laughed, holding up a can of beer. “Cheers.”
She held up her glass and tapped it against the metal can, then downed the last sip, contemplating getting another glass. This man was her neighbor and she moved here to have the kind of full life she’d dreamed about.
One where she put down roots.
And got to know the neighbors.
“Will you excuse me for a minute? I want to get another glass of wine.”
“No problem.” He smiled.
She held her breath for a long moment, staring into his rich, dark eyes. “I have a couple of beers, though a different brand, if you’re ready for another one.”
He shook the can. “I could do one more. Thanks.”
“Be right back.”
By the time she got to the kitchen, she contemplated going back empty handed, telling him that she had been mistaken about the beer. Only she found herself ripping open the top of her homemade guacamole dip and dumping some corn chips into a bowl. Setting the wine bottle, the beer, and the snacks on a tray, she reminded herself that she was being neighborly and thanking him for helping her out.
As she approached the front door, perspiration lined her palms and her heart beat a little faster. She sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.
“Can you get the door?” she called, standing just on the other side staring down at his broad shoulders.
When he twisted and stood, his muscles flexed and sent her stomach on a tumble.
“Let me get that.” He held the door open with his hip as he took the tray, setting it down on the step. “Wow, you didn’t have to go all this trouble.”
“All I did was open a couple of containers.” She sat down and, thankfully, he kept the tray between their bodies. “A thank you for taking care of my car. I take it all went well?”
He shoved a hardy serving of dip on a chip in his mouth and nodded. “Purrs like a kitten.”
“How much do I owe you?”
“A side of gauc and a beer.” He lifted the tab on the metal can and it made a snap-fizzle sound.
“Oh no. You have to let me repay you. I suspect batteries are expensive.”
“This right here is payment enough. Really. Consider it your housewarming gift.”
She didn’t want to insult the man, but she didn’t like owing people, and when you accept a favor of this magnitude, it always came back to bite you in one place the sun doesn’t get to kiss. “I insist on paying for the battery.”
“If you insist, then I’ll let you take me out to dinner sometime.” He winked as he inhaled more chips and dip.
She swallowed her gasp as she tried to keep from contorting her face into a look of shock, and what probably would appear like disgust.
Time to be half honest.
“I’m sorry, but I’m newly divorced and I don’t date, not even a causal dinner.”
He arched a brow. “How long?”
“About a year,” she admitted, wishing she were a better liar since the world thought that a year was long enough after being divorced to start dating. Plus, everyone always asked why, as if that were really anyone else’s business.”
“Been two for me.”
“Oh, really?” her voice came out as a high-pitched squeal, similar to the girls across the street. “I’m sorry.”
He nodded, then took a big swig of his beer. “How long had you been married? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“We didn’t make it to our first anniversary,” she admitted, wondering why she felt comfortable enough to let this conversation continue.
“Had you known each other long?”
“We’d been together for six months when he proposed, married three months later.”
“Wow, that was fast.”
She let out a dry chuckle. “What about you?”
“Kim and I had been together two years before I popped the question and another year before we got married.” He pointed to the house. “We bought that house a month before the wedding. Two years later, just after our anniversary, she left me for another man.”
“Oh, my, God. I’m sorry.” She found herself reaching out for his hand, squeezing it gently before realizing her mistake and retracted. With shaking fingers, she lifted her wine glass to her lips.
He shrugged. “I can’t say I’m still not bitter every so often, but the reality is, I’m better off without her.”
“I know I’m better off without my ex.” She raised her glass. “Cheers to that.”
“So, about the dinner thing?”
The second he locked gazes with her she had to snap her mouth shut to keep from moaning. His smoldering eyes burned her skin. She pictured his taut body, in nothing but a pair of jeans, covering a page of the latest firemen’s calendar.
“I really would like to have dinner with you sometime, but I also understand better than anyone what divorce can do to someone, so how about we just agree to sit next to each other at the neighborhood barbeque next weekend.”
“Neighborhood barbeque?” she questioned, blinking, trying to tear away from his intent stare, ignoring the pull he had on her both on an emotional and physical level.
“You didn’t get the home owners association newsletter?”
“I got it, just haven’t had any free time to read it.” She’d moved in on a Sunday afternoon and had started work the very next day. Since then, she’d been working ten hour days as the previous dentist showed her his operation and introduced her to patients and staff. Now that she was on her own, her days seemed even longer.
“Every month the association puts on some kind of themed party at the pool club house,” Rowen’s deep, husky voice floated into her ears like the comforting hum of a fan in the background.
“This month it’s a pig roast, but everyone brings their own side dishes to share and drinks,” he said.
“Do most of the neighbors go?” Every month seemed like a lot.
“There is always someone who can’t go for whatever reason, but it’s always a lot of fun and really a good way for you to get to know everyone.”
“I’ve been so busy I’ve barely met anyone.”
“Everyone gets busy during the week, that's why we like to plan something once a month.”
“We?” she asked, tilting her head, enjoying how the sun’s rays smothered his face in a warm glow. “Are you on the board of the HOA or something?”
He laughed. “I’m our street rep. But if you’d read the newsletter, you would have known that.” He winked. “So how about we hang out together at the barbeque? I’ll introduce you to whoever you don’t know.”
“That would be just about everyone.”
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes.” The butterflies in her stomach took flight. She told herself the sensation wasn’t from the man sitting next to her, but from the fact that she had taken many steps forward into creating a new life for herself.
Besides, it wasn’t a date.
He stood as a car pulled into his driveway. “I have to get going. That’s my cousin, Gavin, and we’re headed out for some wings.” He pulled out her keys from his pockets and dropped them in her hand as she rose.
“Thanks for your help today.” She clutched her keys between her trembling fingers.
“Any time.” He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. “I look forward to our date.”
Ugh.