would soon be shot to hell.
Honor bit her lip. Her gaze dipped down to his chest, then shot back to his face. Her eyes were big and innocent when she said, “Only if you put on a shirt. Because otherwise, I just can’t do it.”
Jason sighed. And so it began.
HONOR WASN’T USED to eating with three men. It astounded her how fast the pizza got devoured. But then, she’d pretty much inhaled her own slice, too. Working up a hunger, it seemed, overshadowed other concerns—like feeling self-conscious and knowing she was an intruder despite their efforts to put her at ease.
They all chatted easily, except for Jason, who seemed introspective. He’d gone from staring to teasing, to warning, and now quiet.
At first she’d worried that she might have offended him. But how? Not by asking that he wear a shirt, because that was a request he’d ignored.
The man was still half-naked.
And it couldn’t have been from accepting his help, because he was the one who’d bullied his way in and insisted on...being wonderful.
She rubbed at her temples. When she’d thought about neighbors, she never imagined any like these.
“You okay?” Colt asked.
A fast smile, meant to reassure him, only amplified the headache. “Yes. Just a little tired.”
“She works too much.” Lexie shoulder-bumped her. “I’ve tried to get her to play a little, too, but she’s the original party pooper.”
Lexie, at least, seemed right at home. But then she always did. Confident, beautiful and fun—that described Honor’s best friend.
They were polar opposites.
As if she’d known the guys forever, Lexie had heckled Hogan, teased Colt and praised Jason. She also repeatedly put her head back and drew in deep breaths, closing her eyes as she did so. With the scents of freshly mowed lawn, earth, flowers and trees all around them, Honor understood her reaction. Jason’s backyard was a half acre, same as hers. But while hers was nearly impassable with weeds, his was park perfect.
A gigantic elm kept them shaded, and with the help of an occasional gentle breeze, the summer day became more comfortable. Honor glanced around at the neatly mulched flower beds, the velvet green grass and the well-maintained outdoor furniture. His garage was spectacular, matching his house. Every so often she caught the faint scent of oil, gasoline and sawdust.
She also smelled sun-warmed, hardworking male. Not at all unpleasant.
“Where do you work?” Colt asked.
“She’s a stylist,” Lexie offered. With a nod at Jason, she said, “Honor could do all sorts of amazing things with your hair.”
Honor choked on her last drink of Coke.
Unaffected, Jason ran a hand through the dark waves. “I have a barber but don’t make it there as often as I should.”
“He’s always working,” Colt said. “He’s usually out there in the garage before Dad and I even get out of bed.”
“Good thing messy looks so sexy on him, then, huh?”
Colt laughed. “If you say so.”
“I do.” Lexie half turned to face the garage. “You guys have a lot of vehicles.”
“The blue truck is mine,” Colt told her. “Dad drives the motorcycle. Or when it rains, he takes the Escort. Uncle Jason has his own truck, the red newer one, and the gray SUV. The flatbed truck he uses for deliveries.”
Wow. Honor glanced over and saw that the two-story garage also housed a fishing boat on a trailer and another, older truck parked front and center.
“Who drives that one?” Lexie asked.
With something close to hero worship, Colt said, “Uncle Jason was hired to work on it.”
“Hired?”
“Yeah, that’s what he does. He fixes things. He’s really good, too. All these old houses? They’re always needing something repaired and usually Uncle Jason can do it. Everyone around here hires him for stuff.”
“Sounds like it keeps him busy.”
Colt snorted. “Yeah, sometimes too busy.”
“I don’t mind.” Jason’s gaze cut to Honor, and his voice deepened. “I enjoy working with my hands.”
Honor felt like he’d just stroked her. She caught her breath, shifted in her seat and tried to think of something to say.
Clearly tickled, Lexie looked back and forth between them. “So you’re a handyman?”
Again, Colt bragged. “More like a contractor. He can build things from the ground up, including the plumbing and electrical. Or make stuff like custom gates or stylized shutters, or repair just about anything.”
“Nice,” Lexie praised.
“He’s a jack-of-all-trades.” Hogan toasted Jason with his Coke. “Whatever’s broke, Jason can fix it.”
Jason gave him a long look. “Maybe not everything.”
“Right. Can’t fix big brothers, can you?”
Tipping his head slightly back, as if he’d taken that on the chin, Jason replied, “I only have one older brother, and far as I’m concerned, he’s not broken.”
Colt went silent, and God, Honor felt for him. Too many times she, too, had been caught up in the middle of family squabbles.
“So, with the truck,” Lexie said, interrupting the heavy tension, “are you doing engine or body work?”
Before Jason could answer, Hogan said, “Why are you so curious, anyway?”
Lexie leveled him with a direct stare. “I was making conversation.”
With a sound halfway between a laugh and a groan, Hogan sat forward. “We already covered that he can do anything.”
“Anything is a big word. I mean, can he get the stick out of your butt? Because seriously, you’re being a pill.”
Honor frantically tried to think of a way to hedge the impending storm. Lexie wasn’t reserved. If Hogan chose to be snarky, she wouldn’t hesitate to give back tenfold. Worse, she might well drag Honor into it.
“It’s a fascinating business,” Lexie said, “though apparently you don’t think so?”
“I’m proud of my brother.”
“Yes,” Lexie quipped, her tone dry. “That was so obvious.”
Taken
