course not.” She scoffed as though the very idea was an insult. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve spent the past nine years living in the heart of Vancouver. A couple of punk vandals are nothing.”
She was quiet for a minute. Noah watched while she swept the piles of dirt off the porch and onto the flowerbeds below with her foot.
“But I’d be happier if it hadn’t happened at all.” She sighed and kicked some more dirt. “Thanks for helping me clean up. If this had happened at my old apartment, my neighbor would have called the landlord to complain.”
“About vandalism?”
She shrugged. “He didn’t like me.”
Noah thought the man was clearly an idiot. He dusted his hands off. “No problem.” Sabrina’s smile could knock a man off his feet if her boots hadn’t already done the job. He cleared his throat. “I’ll get a broom for the rest of this.” A clearer head would be nice, too.
He focused on what he’d need to repair the gouges in the wood—some sandpaper and a coat or two of white paint—and not on the way Sabrina looked in those shorts. And boots.
But his fingers tightened around the handle of the push broom he’d pulled from the shed when he saw Sabrina bent over again. So he said the first thing that popped into his head. “You know, this might have been a message for me.”
“For you?” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “The town’s golden son? I highly doubt that.”
Noah wasn’t the town’s golden son, but this wasn’t the time to correct her. He walked up the steps. “If you’re worried about them coming back, you could get a dog.”
“A dog?” She stood up, pushing her hair back.
“Yes.” A big, slavering dog that would keep vandals and bored teenagers away. “For safety.” So that any troublemaker who showed up would get a surprise. A toothy, barky surprise. Actually, it was a pretty good idea for spur-of-the-moment thinking.
But Sabrina shook her head. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got city instincts. And you’re probably right, these guys won’t come back.” Her eyes met his. “Besides, I can’t get a dog—I’m not staying. What would I do with a dog when I left?”
Noah nodded. She was right. A dog was a foolish idea. It would be irresponsible for her to get a dog when she knew she wasn’t staying and the dog couldn’t go with her. Maybe he should get a dog. But then he wasn’t home enough to make that a reasonable option, either.
He started sweeping.
“I can do that.” She held her hand out for the broom. “Really, you’ve done more than enough.”
But Noah just kept sweeping. He could easily go inside, break this little connection they were forging. Sabrina wasn’t staying. She knew that. He knew that. The whole town knew that. And yet he didn’t leave the porch.
His eyes tracked her hands as she rubbed them on the seat of her denim shorts. He wondered if it were possible for him to institute a bylaw that banned those shorts. Or perhaps one that required Sabrina Ryan to wear them at all times. He swept harder.
She stood by the damaged railing, fingers tracing the ugly message. “Are you always like this?”
“Always like what?” Trying to pretend that his body wasn’t screaming for him to stop thinking and start acting?
“Doing things that aren’t your job.”
“I’m the mayor.”
“So?” The colorful scarf holding back her hair trailed over one shoulder and around the curve of her breast. Noah feared he might snap the broom’s wooden handle. “That doesn’t mean you’re responsible for everything that happens within town limits.”
Noah swallowed and told his body to get back to sweeping. His body told his brain that it needed a moment. Just one moment as his eyes drank in every curve of her body. “I don’t act like I’m responsible for everything.”
She cocked her head. “Oh, really?”
“Yes.” He didn’t; he just tried to help out. Not the same thing at all.
Sabrina nodded, but didn’t look like she believed him. “I know it isn’t the dinner I owe you, but how about some coffee to say thanks for helping with the dirty work?”
Noah glanced down at his pants which were streaked with dirt. He’d have to spray and presoak them before washing. He looked back at Sabrina. She shook something deep inside of him. A part of himself that he kept carefully caged. He glanced over at the sun, dipping below the horizon. A secretive time, when people acted out of character and blamed it on the night. “It’s late.”
“Right.” But her face fell and dragged his stomach with it.
“It’s late for coffee,” he heard himself say. “I’ve got an early start tomorrow. If I drink coffee now, I’ll be up all night.”
Sabrina’s face brightened and Noah felt his stomach do a slow somersault. “Something else, then?”
He should say no. He balanced the broom against the railing. They could part now and go to their respective homes feeling good about the interaction. Just a couple of neighbors. But he didn’t want to say no. “Sounds great.”
He tried not to watch her go, those boots flashing, hips wiggling, but failed. And when she came back with two water glasses and handed one to him, their fingers brushing, he felt a flash of heat that had nothing to do with the hot day crest through him.
Her throat bobbed as she took a long sip. Noah blinked and reminded himself that licking her neck would not be considered appropriate mayoral behavior. He thought about doing it anyway.
She sat down and leaned back, resting on her elbows. The movement outlined the lace bra she wore. There was a streak of dirt on her shoulder. He knew his own clothes hadn’t fared any better. But he didn’t care. His fingers pressed harder against the cold glass.
“How are Marissa and Kyle?”
Noah blinked. He was thinking about peeling her out of her clothes and she wanted to talk about his family? “They’re fine.”
She nodded. “I haven’t seen them. I guess they’re avoiding me.”
Noah swallowed some more water and tried to bring his mind around to the conversation they were having, not the one he wanted to have, which involved climbing out of their clothes. “Does that bother you?”
Sabrina swiveled to look up at him. “Yes.” Her eyes, normally so bright and cheerful, looked sad. “I’d hoped, well, it doesn’t matter what I’d hoped.” She played with the end of her scarf. “Did Marissa ever tell you that I tried to apologize?”
It took a second for the words to sink in to Noah’s heat-soaked brain. “You did?” His dear sister-in-law had never mentioned that. But then, to be fair, the topic had been a sensitive one for Marissa, who had felt more judgment over the unplanned pregnancy than Kyle.
Sabrina nodded, her fingers
