Chapter Two
One month later
Flanked by her best friends, Sophie stared at the tiny, thousand-square-foot house on Sycamore Street, located a few blocks away from the small downtown area of Revival, Illinois.
She wasn’t sure how something four blocks long, with absolutely no significant shopping, could be considered downtown, but there it was.
Downtown Revival. This was her life.
No more busy Chicago traffic, no more noise, no more Nordstrom, Starbucks, or late-night clubbing.
Teeth grinding, she listened and heard nothing familiar. She could barely make out the rumble of a car. In fact, there was hardly any noise. How would she sleep without background noise?
Panic whooshed through her veins. What was she supposed to do with quiet? Think about her life? But she didn’t want to think; she wanted to be out there in the busy world, acting. She took a deep breath. Okay, she needed to relax. This was temporary.
All she needed was a positive spin. There were worse fates than spending time in Revival. The small town was certainly better than prison. It was better than crashing in Penelope’s guest room because she couldn’t pay her rent and was a bit ... unemployable at the moment. And she’d always had fun when she’d visited. The weekends flew by, so how hard could it be? She’d do six months and be back where she belonged.
Eventually people had to forget. Right? After all, she’d done nothing wrong. All she needed was time. The world lived in a twenty-four-hour news cycle; the reporters had to move on sooner rather than later. It would just take a little time before her former company’s name at the top of her résumé didn’t send her email straight into the trash.
Maddie’s arm was around her waist, and Penelope’s was around her shoulders. They both squeezed. They were driving Sophie crazy. Of course they meant well, but all their relentless optimism made her want to scream or break out into uncontrollable sobbing. She did neither. She merely endured in suffocating silence.
Sophie refused to cry. Especially when she was lucky compared to some of her other coworkers.
Yes, her reputation was presently tainted. She’d lost her job and put her Chicago After Dark blog on hiatus. Since her name had continuously been in the papers as part of the company’s executive team, she was a bit like a case of chlamydia. Not permanent, but distasteful enough that people wanted some distance. Given enough time, she’d recover. People had short memories, and when she got back home, she’d be back on top.
She needed to look on the bright side. This whole fiasco had taught her some valuable lessons. Namely, that life could change on a dime, and that sometimes it did pay to be prepared. It turned out designer shoes weren’t actually an investment and money in the bank was important. Go figure. Maybe she wasn’t practical and retirement savvy, but she was smart and wouldn’t make that mistake again.
It wasn’t all bad. While her savings were meager at best, she’d been able to get a job.
Yes, the position was in Revival, working for—she swallowed—the city government, but still. It was something. She wouldn’t be homeless, have to live off her friends or, God forbid, be forced to go join her parents in their meditation commune in India. She didn’t think she’d be good at commune life. She was too selfish. Too materialistic. Too American. She was everything her parents hadn’t wanted her to be.
So she needed to focus on how lucky she’d been to land this job helping the city of Revival, population twenty five hundred, with their town revitalization project. As a bonus, she’d get to spend tons of time with Maddie, and that would be great.
So, see, she was blessed. It wasn’t ideal, but it was work in her chosen profession, and for that she was grateful. She’d have time to regroup and reassemble.
It would be an adjustment, over before she knew it. If she kept busy, she’d blink and be home where she belonged, this whole mess like a faded bad dream.
“What do you think?” Maddie asked, waving her free hand at the frame porch, her long red hair blowing gently in the breeze, making her look like she was ready to film a shampoo commercial in a spring meadow.
Sophie studied what would be her home for the next six months. While the place was small, the white frame house looked like a cottage, with window boxes and a cute small front porch. It was a little run down and needed some landscaping, but it would do.
She smiled at her friend. They were both tiny, and eye level. At five-three, Maddie had Sophie beat by one inch. Her friend had gone through so much trouble to find a place for her; Sophie refused to burst her bubble by whining about how she wanted to go home. “It’s perfect, thanks.”
It wasn’t quite a lie, but it was an exaggeration.
It was charming enough, but Sophie was a city girl. She’d never lived anywhere with grass before. She took a deep breath. “Maybe I could learn to garden. Or at least mow the lawn. That’s a thing, right?”
Maddie pointed to the garage in the back of the house. “The owner said there’s a mower in the garage.”
The grass needed to be cut. Once she’d read in Real Simple people found yard work therapeutic, so maybe it would help her feel better. More like she was at home instead of dropped into an alternative universe.
Penelope laughed. “Please call me when you do, because I’d really love to see that.”
“Hey! Like you’ve ever mowed in your life.” Sophie scowled good-naturedly at Penelope, a tall, willowy brunette and the good girl in their close group. Everyone knew she was the perfect one. The planner. The organized one. The woman that kept Maddie and Sophie out of jail when they were girls and from going off the deep end now as adults.
Penelope smiled. “But I could if I needed to.”
“Well, so can I.” Sophie squirmed, and her friends finally dropped their death hold on her. “How hard can it be?”
“I’ve done it.” Maddie raised her hand like they were back in middle school. “It’s kind of therapeutic. Like active meditation.”
Just like Real Simple claimed. They wouldn’t steer her wrong. Maddie’s confirmation gave her hope.
If Maddie had reformed her wild ways and been domesticated, so could Sophie. How hard could it be? And Maddie loved Revival, had chosen to live here with her hot husband, Mitch, in their big farmhouse by the river. They even had a baby, a nine-month-old girl, Lily.
As the first child in their group of friends and family, she was spoiled rotten and universally deemed the prettiest baby any of them had ever seen. Lily had her mama’s red hair and Cupid’s bow mouth, combined with her daddy’s amber eyes and golden skin. It was an unusual combination, and even now it was clear she was going to be a stunner. Already Mitch fretted over her being a teenager.
See, Maddie had completely adjusted to country life. In fact, she’d never move back to Chicago. If she could do it, Sophie could do it for six months.
Sophie wrinkled her nose. “I guess I’ll find out.”
Maddie gestured at the front yard. “We could put some hydrangea bushes in front of the house and plant the window boxes. It would be really pretty.”
Oh. My. God. She was discussing gardening. How was this happening? She put on a happy face.
“Sure,” she said absently, walking up the driveway. Time to stop avoiding and claim this as home.
“What time are the movers coming?” Penelope asked.
“They should be here within the next hour.”
“We should get started cleaning, then.” Penelope’s voice took on that efficient edge, tinged with excitement. The woman lived for cleaning and organizing. Obviously Penelope was sick and twisted, but Sophie loved her anyway.
“Great.” Her tone was dry. “I love cleaning.”
Back home she’d paid a college girl to clean her apartment. She’d worked so much she wasn’t about to waste her weekends on housework. But she couldn’t afford that now. Her six-month contracted salary covered her rent, essentials, takeout, and one of those mutual funds thingies she was supposed to have by now. Something had to go, and it wasn’t like she was going to start cooking.
She frowned. Did Revival have delivery?
Panic sliced through her and she took a deep breath. She’d worry about it later. Her friends were watching her every move, waiting to catch her the second she fell apart. She appreciated their love and relentless support but wanted no part of their sympathy. She’d freak out when she was alone and not a second before.
She dusted her hands on her jean shorts, smoothed down her red tank top, and squared her shoulders. Time to get down to the business of becoming a country girl.
Just then a loud roar rumbled through the quiet streets, interrupting the tranquility of the neighborhood. A big, black motorcycle turned the corner, the motor so loud it vibrated through her ears, and strummed through her blood, jolting the first signs of life from her.
Yes, of course motorcycles were dangerous, but Sophie had a tiny thing for danger she’d been trying to manage since college, and the Harley looked and sounded as dangerous as they came.
Sophie, Maddie, and Penelope all froze in the driveway, staring at the bike tearing a path through the street. She could tell the driver was a man by the breadth of his shoulders, but she couldn’t make him out.
She waited for him to pass, but he pulled into the driveway next to hers and turned off the bike.
Sophie could only blink in shock. Her throat went dry. The driver wasn’t just a man; he was all man.
Who in the hell was that?
The man didn’t get off the motorcycle. Instead he sat there, watching her. At least she thought he watched her, but it was hard to tell behind his mirrored aviator sunglasses. He wore jeans, and the denim stretched over the powerful thighs straddling the beast of a machine. He took his hands off the handlebars, and the muscles in his forearms corded and flexed before biceps filled out his black T-shirt. His shoulders went on for miles, stretching the confines of the cotton.
That was just his body. But his face, holy shit his face. He had a strong jaw, hard features, and short dark brown hair. Sophie couldn’t see his eyes, but he was ridiculously masculine and uncomfortably good-looking.
Sophie had nothing against hot men. In fact, she rather liked them. But she took one look at this one and immediately disliked him, for no rational reason or logical explanation other than he looked exactly like her type. And Sophie knew her type. Her type was nothing but trouble, heartache, and potential jail time. She’d given up her type a long time ago, and while it was a little boring, it was much safer.
She glared at the offending stranger. Why in God’s name wouldn’t he stop looking at her? Why didn’t he get off his dumb bike? Why was he just sitting there?
“Hey, Ryder,” Maddie called out, before giving her a huge, sly smile. “This is Sophie.”
Her friend clearly knew exactly who he was but had failed to mention him.
Sophie frowned as he nodded in her direction before swinging his leg off the bike.
He straightened to his full height, and she gulped. He was a giant. Tall and broad with lean, tapered hips and a flat stomach. She’d bet every last dollar in her meager bank account he had a six-pack under his shirt.
And his name was Ryder. Gag. His mama didn’t like him much, did she?
He walked across the grass.
Sophie scowled as her adrenaline kicked in and she had a sudden urge to flight.
Maddie waved a hand between them. “Sophie Kincaid, meet Ryder Moore.”
He came to stand in front of her, tilting his strong jaw before raising his sunglasses to peer down at her.
Her scowl deepened.
His eyes were like nothing she’d ever seen before. They were gray, light and almost eerie.
He smiled and her heart skipped a beat. “Sophie, I’ve heard a lot about you.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. She didn’t want anything to do with this man. She didn’t know what he was doing here, but she wanted him gone. “Why’s that?”
He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m your neighbor.”
Oh no. Why, God, why? Could this get any worse? What was Maddie thinking? She didn’t want to live next to him.
He grinned down at her. “And your landlord.”
Oh. My. God.
All those years of Catholic school, and this was how the heavens repaid her.
* * *
The tiny blonde stared at him as though he was a bug under her shoe. Arms crossed, she stood there, glaring at him like his very existence irritated her. Which, considering the deal he’d given her on rent, he didn’t understand at all.
She should be grateful.
She should at least smile at him.
But she did none of those things.
Instead she glowered.
Maybe Maddie Riley had told her something bad, but that didn’t seem right. He’d been a practical saint since moving to Revival. Maddie, her friends, and her family had been nothing but welcoming since he’d moved from a couple of towns over. Besides, he doubted they even knew about his trouble that had been the catalyst in his decision to start over fresh.
But the cute blonde he towered over clearly wasn’t a fan.
Too bad, because she was a pretty little thing. With her hair pulled back in a ponytail, those big brown eyes of hers, and that sweet mouth, she should look soft and compliant. She didn’t. She looked fierce, with a defiant tilt to her jaw and the set of her shoulders.
At six-four he stood more than a foot taller than her, but his height didn’t appear to intimidate her, despite the disparity between them. Standing there, she was so small he had a sudden urge to pat her on top of her head. Certain that move wouldn’t win him any favors, he resisted and said, “Rent’s due on the first of the month.”
Her frown deepened. “Fine.”
He was intrigued. Rubbing women the wrong way wasn’t really his thing. In fact, he had the opposite problem; women always liked him too much. With the right smile, he could get away with almost anything.
Not with this one, though.
He tried again, putting on his most charming grin. “Utilities are included.”
She raised her brows. “Yeah, I know. I read the contract.”
She had a bee in her bonnet, now didn’t she? He jutted his chin in the direction of his house. “If you need anything, I’m right next door to help you out.”
“I won’t need anything.” She huffed, waving a hand. “You won’t even know I’m here.”
He crossed his arms and mimicked her posture. “Somehow I doubt that, honey.”
If anything, her stance grew more formidable. She locked her legs and slammed her hands on her hips, giving him the first clear view of a very nice rack. She had quite the chest on her for such a little thing. Not huge, not porn-star material, but soft, rounded, and full.
The snap of her voice refocused his attention back on her face. “My name is Sophie.”
She really was cute all riled up. He raised a brow. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call you Ms. Kincaid?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Since you won’t know I’m here, you won’t have to call me anything.”
He laughed.
Maddie cleared her throat and came to stand next to her. She gave Ryder a huge, aw-shucks grin that raised the fine hairs on the back of his neck. Never trust a redhead with a too-innocent smile; they’re almost always up to something. “Thanks so much for giving Sophie a short-term lease.”
“Not a problem,” he said, slowly. “You know I’m always happy to help.”
She turned a pleading expression on Sophie. “Ryder gave you a great deal and did me a huge favor.”
Sophie narrowed her eyes on him before tilting her chin even higher. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”
Somehow he doubted that too. He glanced around. “Are your movers on the way?”
Before Sophie could speak, Maddie interjected, “They’ll be here soon.”
“You girls have help?” He scrubbed a hand over his stubble-covered jaw. It had been a hell of a night, and all he wanted was a shower and bed.
Sophie rolled her eyes. “We don’t need help.”
She was a sassy one. He shrugged one shoulder. “I wasn’t offering, baby doll.”
She gave him a disgusted huff. “Oh God, you’re one of those.”
Now this he had to hear. “One of what?”
“One of those guys that calls women insipid endearments like honey, and baby, and sweetie, instead of humanizing her with an actual name.”
Maddie opened her mouth to speak. “We—”
Sophie cut her off and kept right on going. “But I suppose with a name like Ryder Moore, I can’t blame you.”
He raised a brow. “What’s wrong with Ryder?”
She rolled her eyes. “Did your mom watch too many soaps?”
“It’s my granddaddy’s name.” He smirked. “I’ll tell him you don’t approve.”
“Whatever.” She waved a hand. “We’ve got work to do. Come on, girls.” Without waiting to see if they followed, she turned around and sashayed her little ass away from him.
When she hit the top step of the porch, he called out helpfully, “Don’t forget rent’s due on the first, darlin’.”
Without even looking back she gave him the finger, then stalked into the house, the door slamming behind her.
He looked at her two friends. Maddie he knew well, but the composed brunette, Penelope, he’d only met a few times. She was the wife of Evan Donovan, former wide receiver turned coach.
He cocked his head at them. “Well now, isn’t she a hostile one.”
Maddie shook her head. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I have no idea what got into her.”
Penelope gave him a level stare. “She’s had a hard go of it recently.”
He nodded. “I see.”
“I’m not sure she’s a fan of the pet names.” Penelope flashed him a smile that dazzled him for a second. He’d always thought her quietly pretty, but then she smiled or did something that made her heart-stopping. He’d heard bits of the story of her courtship with one of Chicago’s most notorious football players, and when she hit Ryder with one of those looks he could see why Evan had fallen in love with her as a teenager and never fallen out.
He chuckled. “Really? What was your first clue?”
Penelope laughed. “I’m good at reading subtle body language.”
Maddie shook her head. “Again, I’m really sorry. We’ll talk to her.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “No worries, she doesn’t need to like me.”
“She’s really great, I promise,” Maddie said, her voice a bit too cheerful.
“This is a big adjustment for her,” Penelope added.
City girls were always the highest maintenance. He tilted his head in the direction of his house. “I’m gonna get some shut-eye. It’s been a long night.”
Maddie and Penelope exchanged one of those secret female looks that set his instincts on high alert.
Penelope cleared her throat. “We promise she’ll be good.”
Ah, now he saw what was going on.
Sophie Kincaid was a troublemaker.
A hellion living right next door. Well, wouldn’t that make the neighborhood interesting?
At least he wouldn’t be bored.