extricating himself from the SUV when he heard another car drive up beside his.
He straightened, smiling, wondering if it might be his landlady, who would also be his next-door neighbor. The agent had explained that the owner, someone named Penelope Wright, would live on the other side, though so far he’d seen no signs of her. For some reason, he’d assumed she was a retiree—maybe the old-fashioned name did that. But perhaps she wasn’t retired, and had merely been at work all day.
Reflections of aspen leaves dappled her car’s windshield, so he couldn’t see anything except the hint of a bright blue coat or dress.
He waited, still smiling a welcome, ready to start off on the right foot. But, oddly, the person in the car didn’t open the door. Maybe she was on the phone, tying up some final details before she hung up.
He turned back to the SUV, checking under the seats one last time, not wanting to look impatient. He had just collected a stray French fry when he heard the woman get out of her car and clear her throat.
“I...I...” She started over. “You...”
Poor thing. She sounded as if she might struggle with a stammer.
“Hi,” he began, turning with a smile. The rest of his greeting died on his lips. Standing in front of him was the woman from the ice-cream store.
It couldn’t be. But...
It also couldn’t be anyone else. Even without the same cute dress, silly boots, shining hair...he would never forget that face.
For a split second, the shock left him mildly uncomfortable. The encounter earlier had been so random, so strange. It had been over in less than a minute, and she’d disappeared suddenly, without a word, as if embarrassed by her boldness.
So how had she found him again? She didn’t know his name—he didn’t know hers. He hadn’t told the soda jerk anything about his plans. And yet, out of nowhere, this same woman pulled up in his driveway a few hours later?
How was it possible? Silverdell wasn’t that small.
Was there any chance this sweet-faced young woman was...
Stalking him?
“Wow. This is so awkward I honestly don’t know what to say.” The woman shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, as if she hoped that when she opened them, he wouldn’t be standing there.
But of course he was.
“Okay. So I guess you have to be Mr. Thorpe. You’re here early. I mean, that’s fine. It’s just that...I wasn’t even considering the possibility that my tenant might already be in Silverdell. Before, I mean. Earlier, I mean. When I...”
She took a deep breath, held out her hand and managed a smile. “I guess I should properly introduce myself, even if it’s a little late. I’m Penny Wright. I’m your...your....”
He took her hand. “My landlady?”
She nodded. “I cannot tell you what an idiot I feel. If I had considered, even for a second, that you...that we...”
She flushed, starting at the neck, which wasn’t very helpful, because it caused Max to focus on the graceful column of her throat. His gaze followed the pink stain up, as it spread across the delicate jawline, and then her cheeks.
And, just like that, there it was again—the hot, helpless, fourteen-year-old feeling. He wanted to kiss that pulsing spot where her throat met her chin—and at the same time he wanted to be the white knight who knew exactly what to say to make her feel better.
But he couldn’t do either one, because he was too busy hoping she couldn’t tell what she did to him...physically. He realized he still held her hand, and he let it go as nonchalantly as he could.
He fought down the sensation. This was ridiculous. The both of them, grown adults, standing here temporarily reduced to blithering idiots—all over a casual kiss. A quick, closed-mouth kiss between total strangers that had meant absolutely nothing.
Get a grip, Thorpe.
“You shouldn’t feel foolish,” he said, smiling. “It was very sweet, and I didn’t mind a bit. But if you’d rather, we could agree that it never happened.”
She nodded eagerly. “If we could, if you would...I mean, that would be terrific. I’d appreciate it. So much. That’s not really me. I mean, I don’t do things like that, ordinarily. It was just—just this silly thing I did because...you see, I was making this crazy list, and—”
He was loving the stumbling explanation, and wondering whether he might have grown too cynical, through the years. This innocent honesty didn’t look like a sham. This looked like the real thing. An adorable, awkward naïveté.
But her cascade of half sentences was cut off by the arrival of more vehicles, which pulled up in a caravan and jockeyed one at a time for parking space in the street just outside the duplex. Max looked first at the newcomers—a late-model pickup truck, a hybrid SUV and a wildly expensive sports car. Then he looked at Penny, whose expressive face was registering both surprise and annoyance.
“Oh, my goodness, they are impossible! I should never have told them the address!” She glanced at Max apologetically. “My family. I told them not to come, but they’re...well, they hover. They mean well, but—”
“Hey! Penny!” A tall blond man in a suit hopped out of the truck, strode over and scooped Penny into his embrace. “What a surprise, kiddo! Ro called and she said we needed to get over here ASAP to help.”
“Dallas!” Penny’s annoyance seemed to fade as she accepted his hug. Max watched curiously, trying to sort out the relationships. Whoever this was, she liked him. Brother, maybe? But there wasn’t much resemblance.
“I’m sorry you had to come,” she said. “I’m perfectly fine on my own. There’s really nothing to be done. My furniture won’t arrive until tomorrow.”
“Ah, but that seems to be the problem. They can’t stand the idea of you camping out on a sleeping bag. Ro and Bree are mobilizing a small army to make this place homey. The SUV is loaded with food, supplies, blow-up mattress, books, shampoos, and there may even be a lawn mower back there. You’ll be lucky if they don’t start hanging wallpaper before it gets dark.”
Penny groaned. But then she seemed to remember her manners. She stepped back from the hug, and, putting her hand on the man’s arm, included Max in her smile.
“Dallas, this is my tenant, Max Thorpe. We’ve just met, this very minute. Max, this is my brother-in-law, Dallas Garwood.”
Max shook Dallas’s hand, noting the sharp scrutiny the blue-eyed man gave him and meeting it with a bland smile and a slightly raised brow. Dallas Garwood was the distrustful type? But what about Max made him suspicious in the first place?
“Nice to meet you, Dallas,” he said politely.
Another man had stepped out of the jazzy sports car and was making his way over. His greeting was warm, but a bit more restrained, as if he weren’t quite as close to Penny as Dallas was.
“Hey, Penny. I’m Gray, and—”
“Gray!”
