boots made a crunching sound on the gravel when he stepped out of the truck. The low slant of the sun made her little spot on the creek look appealing, even if she did live in a house that would probably give him claustrophobia despite the fact he’d never suffered from it before. He noticed the little porch held a bright blue metal chair, a pot of purple and white flowers and a small metal wind chime. Next to the front step sat one of those concrete yard ornaments, this one a green frog wearing a crown.
He pointed at the frog. “Do I even want to ask?”
“I kiss him every day in case he’s a prince in disguise.”
He looked over at her. “Are you sure you aren’t the one who got a bird to the noggin?”
“I’m not a believer in taking life too seriously,” she said.
Obviously. But he had to admit there was something really appealing about her attitude.
As she headed toward the front of the little house and he got a good look at her bare legs, he thought they were pretty darn appealing, too. Whether or not she really did kiss that stupid frog every day, she did now, then stood back and watched it as if it might really turn into a prince. If it did, he was changing his mind and driving himself straight to the emergency room.
“Darn, still no luck.” She smiled at Ben and practically skipped up the step to the porch.
“You ain’t right, Mandy Richardson.”
“I take that as a compliment.”
If she only knew a couple of the other compliments that had popped into his mind, she might hit the other side of his head with a frying pan.
By the time she unlocked the front door, he’d stepped up onto the porch behind her. When she opened the door, a blast of cold air hit him. She stepped inside and took the three steps necessary to bring her to the small AC unit in one of the windows. She bent and kissed the thing.
“You go around kissing inanimate objects often?”
She glanced at him. “Only when they produce cold air or might turn into a prince.”
He shook his head. “Not right at all.”
When she laughed, it seemed as if it was as much at herself as his words.
“Would you like something to drink?” she asked as she moved toward a small fridge. “I’m afraid your choices are wine, water or cranberry juice.”
“I’ll take a water, thanks.” When he noticed a couple more inches of her bare legs revealed as she reached down into the fridge, he forced himself to avert his gaze. A quick glance allowed him to view the entirety of her home—the living area and kitchen making up the main room, a door that led to a bathroom he was pretty sure he couldn’t even fit in and a narrow staircase that led to a loft that served as her bedroom if the edge of the mattress he saw was any indication.
“So what do you think?” she asked as she handed him the cold bottle of water.
“It’s...cozy.”
“I know, right?” She surveyed her home with a satisfied look on her face.
“You really don’t mind living in such a small space?”
“Nope. It’s all I need for now.”
“For now?”
“It’s okay for a single person, but even I don’t see fitting an entire family in here.”
An entire family? Was she dating someone? And why on God’s green earth did that thought irritate him? The miniature room seemed to shrink even more, their proximity to each other suddenly feeling awkward, and he had to forcibly keep himself from beating a retreat.
What the hell? That pigeon really had scrambled his brain.
He screwed the top off the water bottle with one quick motion and downed about half the contents.
Mandy laughed. “You must be as hot and thirsty as I am.”
She had no idea how right she was. As if to make things even more uncomfortable, when she took her own drink he couldn’t take his eyes off the column of her neck or the trickle of water that escaped and ran down it.
“Well, I better get going.” Thankfully it only took him two strides to get from her living room to the front porch of her little dollhouse.
Mandy followed him out, closing the door behind her, no doubt to preserve the precious chilled air. “Thanks for bringing me home.”
He descended the step and had started toward his truck but then he turned halfway back toward her. “Least I could do. I was the one who put your car out of commission.” Then it hit him he was basically stranding her here alone with no mode of transportation. “How are you going to get back into town to work?”
“Maybe Devon can pick me up.” She gestured toward the side of her tiny house. “Or I have a bike I can ride.”
The idea of her trying to safely ride into town on a road with a nonexistent shoulder sent a big bolt of “nope” straight to his brain.
“You are not riding a bike on that road,” he said. “You’re liable to get taken out by a horse trailer or some fool driving too fast.”
“You volunteering to be my chauffeur?” The little teasing smile on her face had him thinking he might do whatever she asked of him.
“Yeah. As a matter of fact, I am.”
Her smile fell away in obvious surprise. “I was kidding, Ben.”
“I know, but it’s my fault you don’t have your car, so I’ll take you wherever you need to go until Greg can fix it.”
“It’s actually the pigeon’s fault.”
“Unless he’s got a driver’s license and a pigeonmobile, you’re stuck with me. When do you have to be at work next?”
“Um, eight in the morning.”
“Then I’ll see you at seven forty.” He tapped two fingers to the edge of his hat in farewell then made for his truck before he could think too hard about why he’d just committed himself to who knew how much time away from his work.
As he started the truck and made the turn to leave, Mandy was still standing in the same spot looking every bit as surprised by the day’s turn of events as he was.
Mandy had just finished her salad and was enjoying a second glass of wine when her phone rang. She’d been so lost in her thoughts that the sound startled her, causing her to nearly slosh wine over the rim of her glass. That was just what she needed to end this day, to waste perfectly good cabernet.
The phone display showed it was her best friend, Devon, calling. “Hey.”
“Are
