I ate my breakfast at my desk the next two days and only stepped out on my balcony after I made sure he wasn’t standing out in his yard. But I missed my few minutes of solitude on the back deck—the whole damn reason I bought this house!—and it was becoming too hot in the afternoons to go out then.

I shouldn’t let some guy dictate when I sat on my back deck and when I took in the fresh air at night. He was just a guy, minding his own business in his own backyard and I was just a girl minding my own business in my own backyard. We didn’t have to interact, didn’t have to allow one or the other to decide when the backyard was utilized.

On the third day, I took my toast and my tea out into the backyard and curled up in wicker chair, the sound of birds chirping the only company I wanted or needed.

I was done with my toast and waiting for my tea to cool sufficiently when he stepped out his back door. I watched, able to see him from the center of his chest up, as he crossed to the center of the yard and disappeared, then reappeared, his arms reaching over his head from time to time. He was clearly working out in the cool silence.

I almost wished I could see more of his body.

I watched unabashedly, wondering if he’d even noticed I was there. The longer he continued, ignoring me, the bolder I felt. I sat up a little straighter, hoping to catch sight of shoulders, maybe a peek at his pecs. He was using weights now and I could see the muscles in his arms rippling whenever he lifted them over his head. I could imagine what that felt like under my palms, could imagine running my hands over his body as he worked out.

Nice…

My tea had grown cold, in my hands, the sun moving higher in the sky than I usually allowed during my morning break. But I couldn’t pull my eyes from the spectacle next door.

Until he turned and looked at me.

He grinned, raising a hand in greeting. I blushed, feeling like a teenager caught watching porn on the computer.

“You must be Carson,” he called as he approached the fence. “Elizabeth told me about you.”

Elizabeth? It took me a second to realize he was referring to the real estate agent who’d sold me the house.

“I’m Aiden,” he added as he rested his arms on the top of the fence. “I own this place over here.”

What was I supposed to say to that? I was a little unnerved that he knew my name, even more unnerved by that slightly cocky grin. I stood slowly, pretending to be stretching out sore calf muscles that weren’t actually sore. I could feel his eyes on me as I slowly stepped down the steps of the deck to join him at the fence. I was glad that I’d chosen to pull on a pair of jeans this morning instead of the skimpy shorts I often wore this early in the morning. But, again, maybe the shorts would have been more interesting…

Stop it, Carson!

“Elizabeth mentioned you worked from home?” he asked.

“I’m an online tutor,” I said, perpetuating the lie I’d told Elizabeth. “And she said you were in the military?”

“Navy SEALs.”

I inclined my head slightly, more than a little impressed. I’d met a few Navy SEALs in my previous life. They were tough guys, brave. Some of the stories I’d heard about what they’d done over there in Afghanistan and Iraq were not only impressive, but frightening. A unique bunch of guys, those SEALs.

“Thank you for your service.”

He tilted his head slightly, not really acknowledging my words, but not really rejecting them, either. It was more of an I-don’t-know-what-to-do-with-that sort of thing.

“How long have you owned that house?”

He looked back at it as though it had just suddenly appeared behind him. “About ten years. I bought it while I was in college as a sort of rebellion against my father. He wanted me to live at home and I wanted to live in the frat house, but I’d gotten myself in trouble one time too many. So I bought the house to have a place to do my own thing, you know?”

“Not many college kids have the means to make such a purchase.”

“Yeah, well, I was one of the lucky ones.”

I knew what that meant and it did little to temper my opinion of him thus far, which should have set off warning bells in my head. I’d always resented kids who came from privilege, always saw them as spoiled brats who didn’t have to work half as hard as I did. But maybe my opinions had changed. I was, after all, making a living off of those exact kinds of kids now.

He gestured toward my house. “You happy with the place?”

“Love it.”

He inclined his head slightly, smiling. “A buddy of mine rented it for a while some years ago. We had a lot of pretty hot parties in there.”

“Yeah? Might explain the keg that was collecting dust in the garden shed when I moved in.”

He laughed. “Doesn’t surprise me. In fact, I’m a little surprised you didn’t find it in the kitchen.”

I liked his laugh. Liked the way it came from deep down in his belly.

“The music doesn’t bother you, does it?”

“What?” I asked, a little lost in my thoughts.

“The music. The neighbor on the other side said I played it a little too loud at night.”

“No, it’s fine. Though I’m not a huge fan of the grunge music.”

“Don’t like grunge, or just that band?”

I shrugged. “A little of both, I suppose.”

That smile came back. I liked it, too.

“I didn’t used to like that stuff, but this guy in my unit played it nonstop over there and I guess it just became a habit. But I’ll try to keep it down from now on.”

“That’s considerate.”

“Well, we have to live next door to each other. We should try to get along.”

“You shouldn’t have troubles with me. I like to keep to myself.”

“Yeah? Not the keg-in-the-kitchen type?”

There was a teasing light in his eyes that I liked. I bit my lip to keep from smiling, trying not to let him read me like the open book I’ve been told I could be.

“Not really.”

“I guess I’ve matured past that, anyway.” He studied my face for a moment. “But I hope you don’t keep too much to yourself. It seems like you’re the only neighbor whose actually home during the day.”

“I guess that’s probably true.”

“You and Mrs. Gray down the block, but she’s got two sets of twins, so I wouldn’t want to bother her with a UPS delivery or whatever.”

“It would probably get lost in that chaos she’s got going on over there.”

“Very true.”

“Well, I should get back to my workout before my muscles cool off too much,” he said, gesturing over his shoulder. “Maybe I’ll catch you around again?”

“I’m always here.”

“Beauty of working from home.” He dropped a flirty wink before turning to cross back to the mat I could now see he had spread on the grass in the center of his yard. “See you around, neighbor.”

“See you.”

I watched for a second as he moved into a series of stretches, moving his body in surprisingly graceful ways. He glanced at me and I blushed again, quickly retreating across my yard and ducking into the house.

What the hell was that? Why did I even talk to him?

I was shaking as I stood with my back to the sliding glass door, only vaguely aware that he could probably still see me from where he was. I hadn’t talked to a neighbor in all the time I’d been here, why did I pick now to talk to this neighbor? Mrs. Gray? The only reason I knew about the chaos that must reign supreme in her home was because of the mess in her front yard. I didn’t even know her name, just guessed that she was the same woman with the jumble of toys in the yard because he mentioned two sets of twins. I’d seen them, watched them on occasion, playing out in that crazy yard. But I’d never spoken to them.

I had to get a grip on myself. It was one thing developing a certain attraction to a man. It was another putting everything at risk by the simple act of engaging in a conversation with that same man.

There were ways of satisfying certain physical needs that didn’t require getting to know a guy. It was called Tinder.

I crossed the room and dropped into my office chair, cursing under my breath when I realized I’d left my tea cup out on the back deck. I’d have to get it later, when he was done with his workout. It crossed my mind that I could watch the rest of his workout from my balcony, but I quickly pushed that thought out of my mind and turned my attention to my computer, pulling up the day’s emails. I had half a dozen regular clients who had summer semester research papers coming due. They were panicking, wondering why it was taking me so long to get back to them.

Same old thing.

I answered emails, did a little research, wrote three papers before stopping for lunch. I tried to remember if it was this easy to write research papers when I was in high school and college, but I couldn’t remember. All I remembered was how stressed I always was and how my friends always tried to drag me out to this party or that on the weekends. But I was that serious kid who never partied, who always kept her eye on the prize. I was going to make something of myself, I was going to be someone important. And I came so close to actually reaching that goal.

I wondered now if I’d known how all this would turn out, if I could see myself where I was now, if I would have worked that hard. Maybe I would have gone to a party or two, taken it a little easier. Or maybe I’d just worked harder and achieved my goals a little sooner.

If I knew me, it would have been the latter rather than the former.

He was already at work when I stepped out onto my back deck the next morning, tea and toast in hand. I settled in my chair a little hesitantly, not drawing my feet up underneath myself like normal, but sitting like a prim Englishwoman instead. He came to the fence as I took the first bite of my toast, leaning against the top of it as he’d done the day before.

“Surely you have something more substantial to eat for breakfast.”

I looked down at my toast. “I like toast.”

“But you need something better for the first meal of the day. Something hardier.”

I shook my head. “Not really.”

“Sure, you do.”

He turned and walked away, leaving me a little confused—but kind of liking the sight of his back as he walked up the back steps to go into his house—wondering what the point of all that was. I was about finished with the toast and turning my attention to the tea when he came back, a plate in his hand.

“Eat this,” he said, holding the plate over the fence. “My sister makes it. I think she thinks that I’m sitting over here starving to death.”

“Really, I’m fine with my toast.”

“There’s plenty. She brings all this food every Sunday night like she’s feeding an army instead of one single guy who eats out as often as he eats in, you know? And she gets upset if I don’t eat it all, so you’d actually be doing me a favor.”

I still hesitated and that caused him to sort of wave it over the fence.

“Really, it’s not poisoned. It’s actually really good, I’ve just been eating it every morning for a week.”

I got up slowly and set my tea down, crossing the yard to where he was standing. It was some sort of frittata, the eggs a bright yellow in the early morning light. And it smelled absolutely heavenly.

“Remy is an awesome cook. She brings over these things and steaks and casseroles that would make you cry with pleasure. Her boyfriend is going to get fat with all this stuff she likes to make.”

“Remy?”

“My sister.”

“Is she your only sibling?”

“Nope. I’ve got three brothers, too. There’s five of us all together. Six if you count Bo, which we do most of the time.”

“Bo?”

“He’s my younger brother’s best friend, but he’s also like an adopted brother. He practically grew up at our place because his mother died and he was living with his aunt and she wasn’t the greatest person in the world, if you know what I mean. And he’s kind of my sister’s live-in boyfriend, now, too, so I guess he’ll be legitimate family one of these days.”

So much information. I found myself wondering how he could be so open about his life with a complete stranger. I wasn’t sure I could do it.

I knew I couldn’t do it.

He jiggled the plate. “Take it. If you don’t like it, you can toss it down the disposal.”

“I wouldn’t want to hurt your sister’s feelings.”

“Then you should definitely try it.”

He got me there. I took the plate, smiling politely. “Thank you.”

“Enjoy.”

He turned and walked away, disappearing back inside the house. I watched him go, trying to figure him out. He was so open and friendly, but there was this reserve about him, too. I could sense it there, just below the surface. And the darkness that I sometimes saw on his face when he didn’t know I was looking was almost frightening. It was a look I’d seen before and it never ended well for the man whose face it visited.

I turned and settled back in my chair and picked at the frittata with my fingers. It turned out to be stuffed with sausage and spinach and tomatoes and cheese and a half-dozen spices I couldn’t identify. I was never much of a cook, but I was a foodie and this was one of the best things I’d ever tasted. I would have thanked him, but he never came back outside.

I took the plate inside and washed it by hand, wanting it ready to go should he come and knock on the door. I sat on pins and needles all day, waiting. But he never did.

In fact, I didn’t see him again for several days. And when he finally did appear again it was in the middle of the night.

I woke suddenly, some noise having broken through my dreams. I automatically reached under my pillow for the small, illegal revolver I kept there. But then the noise came again, the sound of a man howling at the moon. I didn’t think anyone who meant violence would howl at the moon.

I got up slowly, tugging my robe around my naked form before opening the French doors and stepping out into the darkness that shrouded my balcony. Every light in Aiden’s house was on, the light illuminating his backyard almost like a stage in a small theater. He was there, pacing on the grass, a bottle in his hands that he kept waving over his head. He was talking to no one, laughing from time to time. And then he’d stumble around some more, staring at the ground like it might reach up and grab him, or something.

As I watched, he howled at the moon again and then began to laugh hysterically. The laughter cut out as quickly as it had begun and he dropped to the ground. I waited, thinking he was only lying down, but he didn’t move. I had no way of knowing how much he’d drunk, whether or not he was still conscious. What if he was passed out, lying on his back? What if he vomited and aspirated? Could I really stand here in all good conscience, and not do anything?

I waited a moment longer, willing him to get up. When he didn’t, I felt like I had no choice. I ran downstairs and burst through my front door, running across my yard into his, praying he didn’t have a lock on the side gate. He didn’t. When I reached him, sliding onto my knees as I knelt beside him, his eyes were closed and he was breathing shallowly. I touched his throat, wondering how I was going to get him into the house since he was nearly twice my size. The short answer was that I wasn’t. I could turn him on his side and hope he’d stay that way until he was sober enough to be out of danger. Or I could—

But then he opened his eyes and squinted up at me.

“Well, hello there!”

“You’re awake?”

“Seems like it.”

He struggled into a sitting position, his eyes never leaving mine. “Did I wake you?”

“Not every night I hear some guy howling in his backyard.”

He tilted his head slightly, sober enough to show a little shame. “Sorry about that.”

“I just wanted to make sure you were safe. Since you are, I think I’ll go back to bed.”

I started to stand, brushing my knees off as I did. He grabbed my wrist to stop me. “Would you mind helping me into the house? I’m a little drunk.”

“I know.”

I looked at him for a long moment, then held out a hand. He took it, using his knees to propel himself into a standing position. He stood a little more than a foot taller than me, his shoulders seeming broader now that we were standing so close. I could disappear standing in front of him and that thought was both scary and exciting. He smiled that cocky smile as he looked down at me and my bones threatened to turn to liquid. I had to look away, but I couldn’t stop the little shiver that rushed through me.

“Cold?” he asked, surprisingly aware for someone so drunk.

I ignored the question. Instead, I slid my arm around his waist and urged him forward. At first he stood rigid, trying to lean on me as little as possible, but he was clearly struggling with the whole being upright thing. After a few yards, he was leaning on me, stumbling a little with each step. We managed to make it to the porch without issue, but when he tried that first step, he tripped and nearly dropped us both down into a heap.

“Sorry,” he muttered, slipping his arm away from my shoulders and sitting on that first step.

“You’re okay.”

“No, I’m far from okay. But I appreciate the thought.”

I pulled my robe tight around my thighs and sat beside him. “It must be complicated, coming back home after what you’ve seen.”

“It is.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “I never imagined it would be this hard.”

I inclined my head a little, trying to imagine what it would be like to go home now, after being away for so long. My situation was very different from his, but I could imagine it wouldn’t be easy to slip back into the life I once had, not after everything I’d been through, everything I’d done.

But I’d give anything to give it a try.

“My father passed away before I re-enlisted this last time. And my mom six months before that.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “He left us money and my brothers talked us all into putting a majority of it into this security firm they started while I was overseas. And now they expect me to join them in running it. They want me to become some sort of bodyguard to the local elite, CEOs and entrepreneurs, some of whom were friends and colleagues of our parents. Others who I went to school with years ago.” He shook his head, as though overwhelmed with disbelief. “I don’t think I can do it.”

“What do you want to do then?”

He groaned softly. “If I knew that, I’d have a good excuse to give them each time they ask me when I’m going to move into the office they’ve had waiting for me for two years.”

“Must be terrible having so many siblings who care about you.”

That grin again. He looked at me, his eyes sparkling in the bright florescent light. “You sound like Remy.”

“Do I?”

“She’d probably like you.”

I couldn’t help the pleased smile that brought to my lips. Even as isolated as I’d kept myself these last few months, it was nice to know someone might like me. We all want to be liked, right? And God knows I’ve struggled with that a lot over the years. Hard to make friends when you’re busy trying to show everyone you’re the best at everything.

“You’ve only been back a short time. I’m sure they understand.”

“Two weeks. And, in some ways, it feels like a lifetime.”

“I can’t imagine it’s easy going from that to this.”

He was quiet for a long moment. Then he sighed heavily. “When we’re over there, all we can talk about is what we left behind, you know? Half the guys in my unit were married, some had kids. They counted down the days until they could get home to them, but then they’d be so ready to go back after a two-week leave.” He rubbed his face again. “I told myself I wouldn’t be that way. When I was ready to go home, I’d go home and I’d love it. I’d be thrilled to be back in my old life, in my old familiar haunts. But…I’m no different than they were. I’ve seriously thought about re-upping.”

“You’d go back?”

“I understand that world over there. It’s all pretty simple, you know?” He glanced me. “We’re the good guys. They’re the bad guys. We get our orders, we fulfill them, then we head back to camp. Simple. Things here aren’t that simple.”

“I can’t imagine that even over there, things are all that simple.”

He tilted his head again, the wheels in his mind clearly turning. “Maybe not. But after all this time, it’s a more familiar complicated.”

“That’s probably closer to the truth.”

He reached over and took my hand, catching me by surprise. I hadn’t been purposely touched by another human being in a long time. His hand was warm, a little rough. Definitely not the soft hands of a man who’s always been handed everything. I liked that.

“You’re easy to talk to.”

“Am I?”

“Probably because you just let me ramble on and on. I don’t know anything about you.”

“What do you need to know?”

“Everything,” he said as he let his eyes move over me, over my face, my legs. “I want to know all there is to know about you. You know nearly everything about me.”

“Because you want to share it. But I don’t necessarily feel the same way.”

“A private person. I suppose I can understand that.” He squeezed my hand lightly. “But I’m having fun dragging the little things out of you.”

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that you cared enough to come over here and try to save me from myself.”

“I just couldn’t sleep thinking you were passed out in your backyard, on your back. You could have choked on your own vomit.”

“There’s a thought.”

“I’ve seen it happen.”

“You must have had an interesting college experience.”

I snorted a little because he was so far from the truth. He smiled, clearly taking that little sound as confirmation of his assumption.

“I could see you in college. You were one of those girls who was dead serious during the day, attending every class the way you were supposed to, but going out and partying every weekend.”

“You think so?”

“You probably even dated a frat boy.”

I laughed at that because, again, he was about as far from the truth as he could get. The frat boys never even knew I existed.

“I bet you were a frat boy.”

“I was. President of Alpha Tau Omega my senior year.”

I nodded, finding it very easy to imagine him in that position. “The guy who rented my house? He was one of your frat brothers, right? And this house? I bet it was the off-campus destination for all your frat brothers.”

“It was, actually. But it wasn’t a Neighbors sort of thing.”

“Neighbors?”

“You know, the movie? Seth Rogen?”

I shook my head. I don’t see many movies.

He groaned. “You really need to get out more, Carson.”

And then I realized what a mistake this was. I couldn’t be sitting here with this man, couldn’t pretending like we were just neighbors and it was okay for us to hang out at two o’clock in the morning. I pulled away from him and stood, smoothing my robe around my hips.

“I should really get back to bed. I have work to do in the morning.”

“Yeah, sorry about all this.”

He stood, too, brushing himself off as well. I watched him move, watched the way his hands moved over his upper thighs. His jeans fit tightly, but not so tight that they didn’t leave a little to the imagination. And, once more, my imagination was working overtime.

He caught me watching and smiled. I blushed.

“Can I at least invite you in for a nightcap? Might help you sleep.”

“I’ll be fine.”

I started to move around him, but he grabbed my wrist just as he’d done on the grass, pulling me to a stop. Once again, I was reminded of how big he was, how he dwarfed me just by standing a little too close. I tilted my head back and he touched my face with his free hand, brushing my wayward hair away from my eyes. He seemed content to just look at me for a long moment, but then he moved even closer, lowering his head so that our lips were just breath apart.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

No qualification, no apparent motive. He just said the words and smiled softly when my eyes widened. He was clearly amused by my surprise.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you that before?”

“To be honest?”

He chuckled softly. “Isn’t that all we’re being tonight?” He tugged my arm, drawing me so close to him that I had to rest my hand on his chest to keep just the slightest space between us. But that was a mistake, too, because I could feel his heart pounding under my hand, could feel the slight change in his breathing. And that made my own heart begin to speed up, my own breathing to change.

I was in trouble and I knew it.

“I can’t imagine no one has ever said that to you before. Because you are. Very beautiful.”

“Stop, Aiden.”

“I like it when you watch me from your balcony.”

I looked up, startled, and he chuckled again.

“Did you really think I couldn’t see you? Even when your light’s out, I can see your silhouette up there. I know you watch. Sometimes I come out here just so that you’ll have something to see.”

I shook my head, tugging at his grip on my wrist, but he refused to let me go.

“You’re so beautiful. I like watching you, too.”

He brushed the hair from my face again, his fingers lingering on my jaw. He pulled me up toward him, his lips just touching mine, his tongue coming out and wetting the little dip at the top of my mouth. It was so simple, so intimate. My heart skipped a beat. I stood perfectly still, waiting to see what he would do next. I knew I should run, should go lock myself back in my house, but I wanted to know what he would do next.

I didn’t have to wait long.

He stepped into me, his foot moving between my bare feet, drawing my face up closer to his. And he kissed me. Not just a brush of the lips, but a true kiss. Pressure and sighs and moisture…a true kiss. His tongue brushed against my lower lip, just the tip touching me with a certain degree of hesitation. And then the hesitation disappeared and he was encouraging me to open to him, asking me with a determination that couldn’t be denied. At least, I couldn’t deny it.

He let go of my wrist, his arms coming around my waist. I lifted my arms to his neck, my fingers moving through his hair like they’d been wanting to do that all night. Caution was gone, my thoughts a jumble that I wasn’t bothering to decipher at the moment. I just wanted to feel his body against mine, wanted to taste his lips, wanted to feel the dance his tongue was doing inside of me that was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. Not that I’d had much experience. When you’re deemed unattainable in high school and that reputation follows you to college and beyond, there isn’t a lot of opportunity for experience. But I couldn’t imagine this could be fairly compared to anything else.

His hands rested on the small of my back. They could have moved, could have explored, but they remained in one place. I would be grateful for that later, but in the moment, with all these nerves suddenly awake all over my body, I desperately wanted more. But he wasn’t quite ready for that.

He broke the kiss, his breathing rough as he held me against his chest for a minute.

“You should go,” he said softly.

I was confused by those words. It took me a moment to gather my wits, to realize what he was saying and why it was probably good idea to walk away. My body wanted to betray me, wanted to stay there in his arms, but logic slowly came flooding back.

I stepped away, tugging my robe tighter against my body, and fled.