Chapter 2

The neighbor was working in his yard half-naked.

Well, technically, he was bare from the waist up, which was normal for someone doing outside labor in July in North Carolina. But I couldn't seem to pull myself away from Grayson's kitchen window. Pretty ironic, considering I'd freaked out when I saw this same neighbor watching me through the window last night.

That neighbor had been working for at least four hours without taking a break. I hadn't stood here the whole time, of course, but there wasn't much else to do. And this was more entertaining than anything I could find on TV.

Suddenly, I had an idea. With a smile, I turned and walked straight to Grayson's kitchen, grabbing two bottled waters and heading out the front door. The guy would pass out if he didn't hydrate soon. I had to take him some water. It was the right thing to do.

As always, my timing sucked. He'd just grabbed some sort of power tool and fired it up, and now he was trimming limbs draping down from a gigantic tree. I stood back, holding a bottled water in each hand, and watched, taking the opportunity to admire the way every movement made his muscles flex.

This man was h-o-t. I was starting to see why my friends Tinley and Piper had moved here. There were no guys like him back in Durham, where I lived.

The motor cut suddenly, and he set down the tool, straightening and wiping his brow. He turned, as if to start back toward the house, but then spotted me in his peripheral vision and stopped. He wore sunglasses, but I could imagine him blinking a time or two to see if he'd imagined things. Nope, just a curvy brunette in a T-shirt and shorts, holding two bottles of water.

"I thought you might be thirsty," I called out.

Smooth. Real smooth. I could at least try to sound flirtatious.

I held one of the bottles toward him as I started walking. It got awkward because there were far too many steps between us for me to have my hand extended. He didn't meet me halfway, either, just stood there and watched me.

He put a hand on each hip as I drew closer. I wasn't wearing sunglasses, and my gaze wanted to drop to his chest and those washboard abs. Not to mention the jeans that hung around his waist. He hadn't bothered with a belt, so they dropped down just a little too low. Not too low for me, though. I was getting a very clear image of the area where his stomach tapered to his groin. It was just enough to make me wonder what was beneath those jeans.

"Thanks," he said. "I'm a little sweaty. You might want to keep your distance."

Keeping my distance was the last thing I wanted to do. I was the type who was normally turned off by sweat. But not on him. The sun glistened off that sweat, only making each curve and contour stand out more.

He grabbed the bottle, and I took a step back, giving him whatever distance he thought I might need. I managed to keep my eyes on his face, but I was looking at the rest of him through my peripheral vision.

"I was wondering," I said as he unscrewed the cap on his water. "If you don't have plans for dinner, I have a pretty big frozen pizza and a bunch of toppings to add to it. It's more than I could eat."

I hadn't planned to invite him to dinner. It was a thought that had rushed through my mind while I was watching him through the window. But now, standing here in front of him, he wasn't as off-putting as he'd seemed last night. There was a kindness to his face, even if I couldn't see his eyes.

"Sounds good," he said.

He took a generous swig, then recapped the water. Weird, but I'd initially seen him as a creeper, watching me through the window. It had been clear that wasn't him when I was standing in front of him at his door. But now, I couldn't imagine he'd be interested in me. He was the kind of good-looking that turned heads everywhere he went.

"Any specific time you need me to be there?" he asked.

He was watching me now, and I did everything I could to tamp down my nervousness. Secretly, though, I felt like a kid with a crush.

"How about six?" I asked.

That sounded like a normal time to eat dinner. Everyone told me I would eat earlier as I got older. I was usually stuffing my face sometime around eight or nine at night and staying up until two in the morning, when I finally crashed and slept until noon.

"Sounds like a plan." He nodded. "Need me to bring anything?"

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. This would be the perfect time to say something flirtatious, but I'd never been the flirty type. I didn't have the confidence for that. So I just clamped my mouth shut and shook my head.

"Great. See you then." He hesitated a long moment, then finally said, "I'm Noah, by the way."

"Layna," was all I could force out. Why was my throat suddenly so tight?

He gave a nod, then stepped away, walking back toward his cabin. Meanwhile, I was standing there staring after him like the stalker I thought he was last night.

Yes, the tables had definitely turned. A man I'd once thought about calling the police on was suddenly the guy I couldn't wait to see again.