Only You (7 page)

A
fter Holly came home from visiting her grandmother, she changed into a pair of shorts and a tank top before she sat in the backyard with Killer. She was on her second glass of wine, pinning things on her phone's Pinterest app to get ideas for Coraline's wedding, when she heard a car park pull up to his house. After Holly's chat with her grandmother, she was frustrated that she kept thinking of her new neighbor. She barely knew him and the encounter had been painfully embarrassing, but she couldn't ignore the fact that she'd felt something with him that she'd never felt in her life.

She was curious. That was all.

At least that was what she told herself when she nearly jumped up to see if it was his car, but she forced herself to keep her butt in her chair, despite her inner argument that she should at least make sure it wasn't another car break-in. But her job responsibility won out. She didn't need to have the entire wedding planned out until she knew what Coraline and Miranda wanted, but she had to go to the meeting with at least a few broad ideas. So far nothing was coming to her, which had her slightly panicked. Holly's work was very much muse driven, and now was
not
the time for her muse to take a break.

She was jumping down a rabbit hole of outdoor-reception pins when she heard her neighbor talking on the other side of the fence.

“Yeah, I saw her. She still wants to come over, but I think I've held her off for now. …” Then his voice faded as he went back inside.

She sat back in her chair, horrified to discover she was straining to hear his sexy voice through the open windows of his house.

What in the world was wrong with her?

She closed her laptop and stood. “Come on, Killer. Let's go inside.”

He was distracting. That was all. She definitely wasn't interested in him. Not when he surely thought she was a bumbling idiot.

She set her computer on the dining room table and poured herself a third glass of wine from the box in her refrigerator, jumping when she heard a sharp rap on the front door.

Killer looked up at her, then took off to investigate, his high-pitched barking piercing her ears.

“Killer, stop!”

Who could be knocking at her door? The break-ins fresh on her mind, she set down the glass and grabbed a baseball bat that Melanie kept in the kitchen for security measures before moving to the front window to peer out the curtains.

There was a man on her front porch.

She considered not answering, but the man was sure to have heard her yell at the dog, who was still yapping at her feet.

“Killer! Stop!”

She wedged herself between the dog and the door before she opened it, her jaw dropping when she saw her new neighbor.

He looked even sexier tonight in his white button-down shirt and his low-hung jeans. His hair was neater, and the scruff on his face from the night before was gone. And his smell…she was close enough to tell he smelled delicious.

His gaze took her in, moving head to toe in a slow sweep and back up again, taking in her bare legs and lingering on her breasts before lifting to her face.

She self-consciously lifted her hand to the hair escaping her messy bun. “Uh…hi. What are you doing here?” Oh, shit. Had she said that out loud?

He laughed and she loved how his eyes lit with amusement, his lips tilting up slightly. “I thought I'd bring your dish back over.” He lifted the container to prove his intent, and she felt her cheeks burn.

“Oh.”

“Are you about to run off to a baseball game or should I be concerned?”

“What? Oh.” Then she remembered the bat in her hand and she tossed it into the house. The loud thud when it hit the hardwood floor made her cringe. It also made Killer jump and start barking again. She stepped onto the porch, pulling the door closed behind her and bumping into his chest.

“Sorry,” she murmured, feeling like an idiot. How did this man make her lose her head? Although she was sure the wine wasn't helping the situation.

He grabbed her arm to steady her and she found her hand resting on his chest again. This time she didn't pull away, instead looking up into his eyes, which had focused on her mouth.

“We're making a habit of this,” he said, his voice so low it rumbled his chest under her fingertips.

She sucked in a breath, still looking up at him. “Sorry.”

A mischievous look filled his eyes. “I'm not complaining.”

She realized he was still holding the dish in one hand, but his hand on her arm had moved to the small of her back.

What in the world was she doing? This went against every rule she had for dating. No physical contact until the second date, and even then it never went past momentary hand-holding and a short kiss good night. It definitely didn't include plastering herself to the front of a stranger.

She tried to take a step back but the door blocked her escape, which ordinarily would have worried her but instead sent a raging fire through her blood. Her body's reaction confused her, and she chalked it up to the wine. She'd never been so turned on by a man, and she wasn't sure how to handle it. She had to make him leave and soon, or she'd probably do something she'd regret.

“Thank—” Her voice came out raspy, so she pressed her lips together then tried again. “Thank you for bringing back the dish.”

He grinned. “It was one of the best lasagnas I've ever had, but don't tell my mother or she'll make me suffer for the rest of my life.”

She chuckled, surprised that she was starting to feel at ease, which was equally surprising, since they were still as close as they were a few moments ago. “Surely she can't be that bad.”

“You'd be amazed.” But then he took a quick step back, putting a couple of feet between them and moving like he'd just been caught doing something wrong. “Thanks again for bringing me the lasagna.”

Something had changed, although Holly couldn't put her finger on what. “Yeah, no problem.”

Then he abruptly turned and walked down the steps before he looked back at her, his warm smile returning. “I'm Kevin, by the way.”

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach at that smile—when was the last time she'd had butterflies?—and she was certain she was smiling back like the fool she was, but damned if she could stop it. “Holly.”

If possible, his smile grew even brighter. “Nice to meet you, Holly.” Then he turned around and walked toward his house.

Holly turned the doorknob to go back inside, her eyes on still on him, only vaguely aware that the door wasn't opening. She pushed harder, her shoulder banging into the wood. What the—? She tried to turn the knob before the truth hit her: she had locked herself out.

Kevin stopped at the bottom of his steps and looked back at her and smiled.

She gave him a small wave, her mind reeling. No need to panic. She'd just walk around and go through the back door.

Oh, shit. She'd locked the back door when she'd gone in, worried about the car break-ins.

Now what should she do? She considered calling Melanie, but Holly's phone was inside. For one brief moment she thought about asking to borrow Kevin's, but she quickly dismissed the idea. She'd already looked enough like a fool. No need to add more evidence. Besides, it was pointless. Melanie wouldn't be able to come until she took her break in another hour or two.

Although Holly knew it was probably a long shot, she set the casserole dish on the porch and checked under the flowerpot on the top step of the porch. It was their usual hiding place for the spare house key, but Melanie had used it a couple of weeks ago, and Holly was fairly certain she hadn't replaced it. Sure enough, the only thing Holly found under the clay pot was an earthworm.

That left the dining room window. The lock had been broken for months, and she and Melanie had never gotten it fixed. Now she just had to climb through it.

Granted, it had been a few years—or fifteen—since she'd tried crawling through the window, but it had worked the last time she and Melanie had locked themselves out of the house. Of course, they'd been teens, but surely it was like riding a bike.

But first she had to get it open. Walking around the side of the house, she realized that climbing through a four-foot-high window had been less intimidating when she was fifteen. Of course, her older cousin had boosted her up.

She could still do this. She just needed something to stand on.

Thankfully, Kevin had gone back inside his house, so she didn't feel so conspicuous going into her backyard to grab a bucket Melanie kept by the water spigot. Flipping it upside down, she set it under the window and climbed onto it, adjusting her feet to get her balance. Once she was centered, she grabbed the lower edge of the window and tried to lift it—without success. The window was stuck. She put more weight into it but it still didn't budge, and she nearly fell off the bucket.

The “
Shit!
” that came out of her mouth was much louder than she'd intended, making her cringe. She hadn't meant to shout. A quick glance around confirmed that she was still alone, with the exception of Killer, who was now barking at the dining room window instead of the front door.

“Killer! Stop that right now!” she hissed, peering inside at the dog, but when he saw her, he began barking in earnest.

Time to try a different tactic. She lifted her arms over her head and braced her hands on the top part of the window frame and pushed. It budged a slight bit, but not enough even to get her fingers through the opening at the bottom. Standing on her tiptoes, she gave a hard shove, but the bucket underneath her bare feet wobbled to the side.

“
Shit!
”

Holly tried to grab the window, but her fingers slipped, and she knew she was going to hit the ground. She squeezed her eyes shut, her body tensing as she prepared for impact, but she found herself stopped midfall by two strong arms and a very solid chest.

“Is this your first breaking and entering?”

She opened her eyes to look up into Kevin's face, his eyes dancing with amusement.

The only thing that could save her now was if the earth opened up and swallowed her whole. Only she was sure she couldn't get that lucky.

Kevin set her back upright on top of the bucket and took a step back.

Holly figured she had two choices. One, she could die of embarrassment on the spot. Or she could laugh at her situation. She couldn't look any worse, right? “Is it that obvious?” she teased.

“Well, I'm no expert, but I think the first rule of breaking and entering is to be quiet about it.”

“You heard me?”

“To be fair, I was next to my kitchen window, which is open and only ten feet from the scene of the crime.”

Her face flushed. “I locked myself out.”

He laughed. “I figured as much…unless you're brushing up on your criminal skills, and if so, I suggest you think about another line of work.”

She smiled, surprised she didn't feel more embarrassed. He made her feel at ease, even though his proximity heated her body several degrees.

She motioned to the window. “It's stuck. The humidity must have made the wood swell. I only got it to budge a crack.”

“No spare key, huh?”

“No, my cousin didn't put it back and there's no way she can come home for at least an hour or more.”

He glanced at the window. “Let me have a try.”

She climbed off the bucket, and he moved it out of the way before he put his hands on the top window and pushed. The frame shimmied, then finally slid up a few inches before he pushed again, the frame sliding easily all the way to the top.

Kevin grinned as he turned to face her. “I take it climbing through the window is next.”

“Yeah.” But there was no way on God's green earth she was going to let him see that. She had to save
some
of her dignity. “Thanks for your help. I've got it from here.”

He shook his head. “Now what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't see this all the way through? Especially since I'm the reason you're locked out.”

“I've done this before,” she said. “I don't need any help.”

“You routinely climb through windows? Maybe I should reassess your potential life as a criminal.”

She laughed. “Okay, so maybe I was fifteen the last time I tried this. But how hard can it be?”

He grinned. “Fine. I'll let you climb in on your own, but I insist on sticking around as a spotter. You know, in case you get stuck.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “Are you suggesting I won't fit through the window?”

His face paled. “God, no. I just meant…”

She laughed again. “I know what you meant. I'm just giving you a hard time. But I really don't need your help. Thanks for everything you've already done.” Then she gave him a tiny wave for good measure.

He grinned, obviously recovered from his embarrassment, and took several steps backward. “I'll just stay over here on my property. It really is a great spot. A great view.”

Ignoring the flush on her cheeks, she put her hands on her hips. “You're really not going to leave, are you?”

His grin spread, lighting up his face. “Not a chance.”

Stifling a groan, she moved the bucket back under the window. How was she going to do this gracefully? There was no way she could hike a leg up and straddle the window, which left a very unattractive option.

Crap. She was going to have to dive in.

Holly glanced over her shoulder. “I've got this. Don't you have a wall you need to tear down or something?”

He laughed, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “It can wait.”

Great.

Taking a deep breath, she placed her hands on the windowsill and lifted her body as though she were mounting a balance beam, just like she'd learned to do during the gymnastics section of her eighth-grade gym class. Only now her head was at the top of the window opening.