bushes. Libby gave the golden retriever a gentle shove and wriggled back a few inches.
“Is that your dog?” Sarah asked. “You better not let him in Libby’s yard. She is pathological about her roses. Her grandma planted those roses years ago and Libby treats them like her children.”
Trey whistled softly. “Come here, Beau. Come on, boy. He’s been chasing squirrels all day. You can take the dog out of the city, but you can’t take the city out of the dog.”
“Go,” Libby whispered, waving her hand in the dog’s face. “Get out of here, you mangy mutt!” But Beau took her frantic movements as encouragement and he leapt through the bushes and knocked Libby flat on her back. Libby flailed her arms as the dog stood above her and licked her face with his cold tongue, his muddy paws planted firmly on her chest. Libby closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands.
When the dog finally stopped, she risked a look up to find both Trey and Sarah staring down at her. An amused grin quirked Trey’s lips.
He chuckled softly. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Lisbeth Parrish.”
“I—I have to go now,” Sarah said, forcing a smile. “I’ve got recipes to type. I’ll call you later, Lib. Nice seeing you again, Trey. Y’all take care now.”
“Oh, we will be talking,” Libby muttered, pushing up on her elbows and brushing her hair out of her eyes.
Trey grinned, his arms crossed over his bare chest. “I was wondering when you were going to stop by and welcome me to the neighborhood.” He held out his hand to her, but Libby slapped it away, humiliated that she’d been caught spying on him.
“Is that any way to welcome me to the neighborhood? Where’s my chicken casserole and my pineapple upside-down cake?”
Libby struggled to get to her feet, the roses scratching at her arms and face. He found this all so amusing. Probably as amusing as he’d found her letter, full of flowery prose and professions of love. “I only bake casseroles for people I’m happy to see.”
“Lisbeth, I expected a much more hospitable welcome.”
Biting back a curse, Libby brushed the mud off her cotton sundress. “I may have to tolerate your presence next door, but I don’t have to like it, Clayton. You’re a Marbury and I’m a Parrish. What do you expect from me beyond hostility?”
Trey frowned and for a moment, Libby regretted her sharp words. This was not the way she wanted to begin, but he seemed to delight in her embarrassment. He took a step toward her and she backed away, but he managed to capture her chin.
“Stay still.” He slowly turned her head, then ran his thumb along her cheek.
“What—what are you doing?”
“You’re bleeding,” Trey said. He reached down and withdrew a bandanna from the pocket of his shorts. Gently, he dabbed at her cheek. “You shouldn’t lurk in the roses. They have thorns.”
Libby stared up at his face, unable to drag her gaze away. He was much more handsome than she remembered—but then, she remembered him as a boy, a high school football star with a disarming smile and a body worthy of a Greek god. He was a man now, and his features had a harder edge; his mouth was firmer and his jaw stronger. She felt her heartbeat quicken and suddenly, she couldn’t breathe.
“I—I wasn’t lurking.”
His gaze met hers directly and she saw eyes so blue they sent shivers down her spine. When he licked his upper lip, Libby lapsed into contemplation of how his tongue might feel moving across her mouth, tracing a path along her neck, dipping a bit lower. She swallowed hard. Why was this happening to her? She’d had other men in her life—handsome, attentive men. But they’d never made her feel this way, all light-headed and breathless, as if she were teetering on the edge of something very dangerous.
“It doesn’t look too bad,” he said, leaning closer to examine her wounds. “Shouldn’t leave a scar.”
“I suppose I should thank you,” Libby said as she drew away. “But since your dog was the cause of my accident, I don’t think I will.”
He stared at her for a long moment, as if he could read her mind, and then shrugged. “Just trying to be neighborly.”
Libby brushed the dirt off her dress. “With a line like that, it’s a good thing we’re standing in my garden,” she muttered. “My roses need the fertilizer.”
Trey hitched his hands up on his waist and shook his head. “Maybe you ought to just lay back down with the rest of the prickly things in this garden, Lisbeth.”
The insult stung. She hadn’t meant to act so nasty, but Trey had a way of making her feel like a seventeen-year-old geek all over again. “So we finally see the real Trey Marbury,” Libby murmured, crossing her arms beneath her breasts and straightening her spine.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
She tipped up her chin. “Tell me, of all the houses in Belfort, why did you choose to move into this one?”
“You think I bought this house because of you?” Trey chuckled. “Now don’t you have a low eye for a high fence.”
Libby ground her teeth. He looked so satisfied, as if he had her exactly where he wanted her! All the confidence he’d possessed as a teenager had increased tenfold and Libby knew he’d have a snappy retort for anything she might throw his way. Well, she wasn’t a girl anymore. She was a woman fully capable of defending herself against his charms. “You’re no better than any other Marbury, all of you crooked as a barrel of snakes.”
“So that’s how it’s going to be?” Trey asked, taking a step toward her, his eyes glittering with amusement, goading her.
“Just stay out of my way,” Libby warned. “Keep your dog out of my garden and keep your nose out of my business. I’m watching you.”
“Yes, I know. I’ve seen you peering out from behind those starched curtains. For someone who values her privacy, you’re just a little too interested in your neighbors. Or is it just me you find so fascinating?”
Libby took a step forward, standing so close to him she could feel the heat of his body. She poked him in the chest, setting him back on his heels. “Don’t dare presume that I have even the slightest interest in you, Marbury.”
His jaw went tight as he stared into her eyes. Then, in one quick movement, he grabbed her hand and swept it behind her back, pulling her body up against his. At first, she was too stunned to protest. And then, when she opened her mouth to speak, all she could manage was a tiny gasp.
Libby’s eyes drifted down to his lips and she wondered if he had any intention of kissing her. If he did, she wasn’t sure that she’d be able to do anything about it—except perhaps kiss him back. But when her eyes met his again, Libby’s heart froze. It was there, in the icy blue depths. He knew exactly what she was thinking.
Trey’s lips curled into a grin and he chuckled softly. “What? Can’t think of anything to say?”
“What I have to say to you isn’t fit for civilized ears.”
He leaned closer to her,
