Chapter One
T he older couple next door apparently had a son.
A shirtless, sun-bronzed, hard-bodied, strapping, son. Penny fanned herself as she gawked out her window into the neighbor’s bedroom.
Mary, mother of Jesus, but he was hot.
His buzzed hair was dark brown, judging by the shadow of growth she could see. And a set of dog tags swung on a chain around his neck. Military. Definitely military.
Chiseled features contrasted with the ready smile he gave the older woman fussing around him.
He’d apparently suffered some sort of injury, his arm immobilized by a wide white bandage wrapped around his right shoulder and chest.
He had to be their son, right? He was too old to be their grandson. When she’d caught sight of her neighbors on a few occasions, they’d looked to be no more than sixty.
Well, maybe he could be a grandson.
If she’d taken the time to stop and chat, she might have learned something about the imminent arrival of this perfect specimen of the male human.
But no! On the rare occasions she left her house, she kept her head down in order to avoid meeting their eyes. Because if she did, she’d have to speak to them. And if she spoke to them, they’d ask questions.
They’d want to know if she was married.
Did she have any kids?
Was she new in town?
No, no and yes.
Penny chewed at her thumbnail and continued peeking through the hundred-year-old glass. The skin on his chest and back was smooth. He couldn’t be much older than twenty-three or four, just a kid!
His mother, she had to be his mother, moved about the room efficiently, busily unpacking the suitcase and hanging clothing in the closet. A white uniform, and was that a flight suit? Penny couldn’t tell for certain.
Her gaze swung back to him. Had he been injured in combat?
She was always hearing about helicopters going down over there.
It made her angry. Such a senseless war.
She’d tuned it out.
He could have been shot. The thought of a bullet piercing this young man made her cringe inside.
So unnecessary! So very wrong!
Even in the shadows, his physique appeared defined and lean. Not bulky. Not massive. Not an inch of flab anywhere. Butterflies fluttered obnoxiously deep within her belly.
Man-boys should not be allowed to look like that. It wasn’t fair! And this one – she fanned herself – oh my! He was particularly lethal, strutting around in nothing but desert camo pants that hung so low she could see where his ab muscles ended and other, um, features of his anatomy began.
It was as though he’d hardly managed to get them on, just enough so he could get himself from the hospital to his home.
Camo pants ought to be illegal.
Penny continued watching as his mother hugged him impulsively. She then collected what looked to be some dirty laundry and disappeared from the room.
Mister Spectacular stretched, winced, and then stretched again. Sleek, tight, and powerful.
Penny sighed. What would it feel like? To be with somebody like that?
And then.
He untied his pants and dropped them.
White ass.
White, sinewy, smooth, muscular ass.
At this point, Penny threw herself onto the floor. She shivered and then, unable to help herself, pushed up to her knees and peeked over the lip of the window again.
In the future, she would realize, this was the day she’d become something of a voyeur.
Four days later, and this ogling was triggering all kinds of frustration in Penny – on multiple levels.
She had work to do, dammit!
How dare he waltz around in front of his window wearing nothing but a… well, he didn’t do much smiling. Most of the time he looked like he was in pain. He ought to stay in bed. Rest up so that he could heal.
But no, he had to pace the room like a caged lion, occasionally pumping a hand weight with his good arm.
It wasn’t her fault she was so easily distracted by his… everything.
She’d not had an orgasm – brought on by another human being, that was – for over eight months.
Hell, if she were to be honest with herself, sex with Kent, toward the end, had been disappointing at best.
She could describe what she experienced as… “orgs”… or perhaps… “asms.”
Kent hadn’t cared much whether she’d reached the summit, so to speak. He’d told her not to dawdle so much. She needed to keep up with the program.
When he was done, he was done.
End of event.
The only respectable orgasms she’d had in the past five years had been self-induced.
God, she was pathetic.
In a way, watching Mister Spectacular over there had brought her back to life a little.
Not that she’d ever speak to him, or meet him. Likely, he was convalescing at Mom and Dad’s house for a few weeks and would soon be shipped back off to Afghanistan, or Syria, or wherever he’d been injured.
She ought to thank him for his service before he left.
Penny ignored the urge to peek out the window again. Twenty minutes ago, he’d attempted a few one-handed jumping jacks. After five, he’d flinched something awful. He was probably still lying down.
Such a nice boy; brave, disciplined, patriotic...sexy as no get out.
When he wasn’t prowling around the room or sleeping, he read. If she’d had binoculars, she probably could have made out the titles but she’d forced herself to draw the line somewhere.
The houses built in downtown Pine Springs were over one hundred years old, huddled intimately close to one another. Up until last week, this hadn’t bothered Penny in the least.
She’d merely pulled the blinds and drawn the curtains. She’d not wanted to get to know her neighbors. She wasn’t ready yet. She still felt… raw.
She’d preferred to be left alone, working from the privacy of home. She’d been lucky to pay cash outright with the settlement money Kent had given her.
Been ordered to give her.
Frankly, she would have taken less but her lawyer insisted she get as much as possible.
Penny had simply wanted out.
The house, the home they’d purchased together twelve years ago, was tainted now.
He slept with that girl there.
In Penny’s own bedroom.
In her own bed.
She’d ignored fleeting suspicions but the shock of finding the man she trusted, the man she’d built her life around, on top of some nubile nineteen-year-old, her ass propped on Penny’s pillow…
Walking in on such an encounter confirmed what she’d refused to consider.
Her husband was not the same man she thought she’d married.
He was a liar.
A cheater.
A bastard.
Penny purposely shoved these thoughts out of her mind. They depressed her.
Almost without thinking, she slipped out of her chair, crossed the room and peeked around the curtain. He’d hung a dartboard on the wall and was throwing little metal arrows at it.
He must normally be right-handed, she surmised, when the third arrow in a row bounced off the wall. Your mother’s gonna kill you.
She hadn’t left the house for six days, and her empty freezer taunted her. Unless she wanted to survive on coffee, a bag of pinto beans, and some ranch dressing, she was gonna have to venture outside, and yes, interact with other human beings today.
She had no choice but to make a trip to the grocery store.
She closed the freezer door, trudged upstairs, and examined her reflection in the bathroom mirror.
She’d showered yesterday but not bothered with her hair. When she didn’t tame it with gel or styling cream, it curled into crazy yellow spirals and twisted wildly around her head.
Makeup hadn’t been a priority as of late either. The only color around her eyes came from the circles beneath them. She peered closer. Ah, yes. Wonderful. And the crow’s feet.
At thirty-six!
Her T-shirt was so worn out as to be transparent.
Another feminine item she’d eschewed since moving to Pine Springs was a bra. She never went anywhere so … why bother? It wasn’t as though her B cups were sagging.
Yet.
Her stomach, though, was soft. As were her thighs and butt.
Exercise? What was exercise?
After discovering her husband sleeping with another woman – strike that – girl – she’d not eaten for nearly a month. Well, she’d eaten but barely. And that was tribute to just exactly how devastated she’d been.
Seven months later, she’d yet to have gained the weight back.
But she was no poster for fitness, that was for sure.
She’d run from her old life and moved into this rickety old house two months ago. It was far better than the month-to-month apartment she’d initially escaped to.
This house had personality.
It had history.
It had character.
It was hers.
And damn, but it had one hot neighbor.
She grabbed a spray bottle and misted some conditioner on her hair. She dared not brush it or she’d resemble a lion.
And she’d need to either change out of her T-shirt or put on a bra.
Or perhaps both.
She crossed the hallway to her bedroom and pulled out a slightly less worn T-shirt and the most comfortable bra she owned.
It would be warm outside because it was June. At least it had been the last time she checked.
She kicked off her sweats and pulled on a pair of cutoff shorts. They fit loosely and extended all the way to her knees. Like her grandma used to wear.
But they were comfortable. Safe. She wasn’t out to impress anyone.
Stepping into a pair of flip-flops, she figured she was dressed appropriately enough for the grocery store. It was the middle of the day; hopefully, most normal people were at work.
Luckily, nobody in town knew her.
That was why she’d left Denver.
If she could make herself invisible, she probably would.
Descending the stairs, she huffed into her hand. Had she brushed her teeth after coffee today? Maybe. Did it matter?
This is only a trip to the store, for Pete’s sake.
She grabbed the reusable cloth bags she’d purchased so that she wouldn’t have to use the store’s plastic ones — doing her part to save the environment – and smelled her pits.
She would be fine. This was why she’d moved here, after all. Complete and utter anonymity.
The sunlight caused her eyes to water, blinding her momentarily. She rummaged through her purse until locating the key at the bottom. Sure, Pine Springs was a small town, but old habits died hard. It only made sense to lock the dead bolt. The boards on the porch creaked. She was going to have to get them fixed someday. Maybe next year.
Her eyes continued to water. Damned if she hadn’t spent too much time indoors. At least she wasn’t wearing makeup; it would be all over her face by now.
Casting her gaze downward, she headed toward the street but didn’t make it two steps before crashing into a wall of steel. What the heck? Her small frame literally bounced off the man blocking her way.
Hello.
His masculinity – his overwhelming maleness – stole her breath.
It was him.
He flinched, rubbing his shoulder with his free hand.
His other hand, pinned against his chest with the bandage, loosely clasped a measuring cup.
“Oh, um, sorry.” She mumbled hesitantly. Her first thought was that her new “hobby” had been discovered. What did a person say in such a situation? Would he call the cops? This could get mortifying quickly.
Except for the measuring cup.
Hopefully, she would not be forced to sell her home and flee Pine Springs in shame.
“My fault.” Even his voice sounded sexy. Just two words and her mouth went dry. He looked pale beneath his splendid tan, but this close, my goodness! What did a person say to such an attractive package of testosterone?
Roaring filled her ears, and with fingers that had suddenly gone numb, she dropped her keys. Bent over, she made three swipes to grab them before returning to an upright position.
But it was his eyes that threw the knockout punch. Nothing less than magical, they reminded her of one of Colorado’s lakes on a sunny day. As though he was laughing at her, they twinkled.
And he’d shaved.
Without the beard, she got a better look at his features. Young but hard, chiseled, with just enough humor to not be too intimidating. Nose a little crooked, as though it had been broken a time or two, and his short brown hair was just beginning to grow out from a buzz cut.
She wanted to touch it.
Stop this, Penny! For God’s sake, she was at least ten years older than him. And dressed only slightly better than a homeless person.
Still, this didn’t stop her lady parts from pulsing.
“I don’t have any kids for you to play with, if that’s why you came over.” Now why did she go and say something so stupid?
He laughed. Oh, good, he thought she was joking.
She only wished she didn’t feel so very, well, ancient.
“Nah. My mom sent me to ask if you had any milk. She’s baking a cake and, since I’d told her I needed to get out.” He gestured to the bandage, visible beneath his T-shirt.
“Milk?” She’d been lactose intolerant for most of her adult life. “Would dehydrated creamer work?”
Again, the laugh. A deep chuckle that reached into her stomach and stirred up all kinds of insanity. “You haven’t met my mom, have you? She says you’re new in town. I was sad to learn that Mr. Baxter passed away. He lived here forever.”
Mr. Baxter? Oh, the previous owner.
Following the context of this conversation had become nearly impossible. Her estrogen levels distracting her with a curiously uncommon happy dance.
Besides that, days had passed since she’d last conversed with another adult in person.
Let alone a masculine god.
“How long were you away?” Did this question reveal too much about what she knew of him? Well, no, she easily could have watched him pull up in a taxi, with a suitcase or something. She didn’t have to let on that she’d watched him undress the first day he’d arrived.
“Two years.” He rubbed his shoulder absentmindedly.
“Did you get shot?” She’d been wondering for some time now.
But he shook his head. “I wish.”
What did he mean by that? At her questioning look, he explained further. “Shrapnel.” By now, he was leaning heavily against the post holding her porch roof up.
“Are you in pain?” He did look pale. Albeit devastatingly handsome.
He gave her something of a half-smile. Aside from that tiny crook in his nose, which was adorable, Penny found the way one side of his mouth tugged up to be the only other imperfect thing she’d noticed about him.
It was incredibly endearing.
“Yeah, but dying of boredom.” Just then, his gaze dropped to her hands where she jiggled her keys nervously.
“You’re not heading to the store, by chance, are you?”
Oh, right! The store! “You want me to get some milk for your mom?” She wasn’t used to helping her neighbors.
“How about I come along?” That half smile again. Oh, but he was sweet. Her fingers itched to touch his biceps.
Instead, she hitched her purse higher and nodded. “Sure, no problem.”
A little extra deodorant would not have been amiss.
Or a shower even. Today’s surprise meeting would teach her to go out of the house like this.
Like it mattered to him. Like he even realized she was female.
Penny was old – and worse than that – she felt old.
She pressed the unlock button on her key ring, and at the curb in front of her house, the lights on her Sentra flashed. Hell, even her car was responsible and grown up.
“What do you drive? When you can?” she added. She barely stopped herself from making a joke about him being too young to drive.
“I have an old jeep. It’s back in Colorado Springs. A little rough, but she gets me where I need to go… usually.” There was that half smile again. “Didn’t make sense to buy something newer when I knew I’d be deployed.”
“Huh.” Penny grunted.
Practical and pretty.