Page 10 of The House on Forgotten Hill

We stared at each other for several seconds, then he tilted his head. “So … did you like what you saw?”

I resisted the urge to gasp as I felt my cheeks flush with color. “I …”

He laughed just loud enough to let me know he was enjoying every second of my discomfort.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied.

“No? Then I suppose you have a twin, or perhaps someone else who looks just like you has been watching me almost every evening for the past two weeks.”

I looked down at the bottle in my hands. “I wasn’t …”

He reached out, squeezing me on the shoulder. “Hey, relax. I’m joking. I rather enjoyed it. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Why would I?”

“Because we’re neighbors.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“Given the amount of time we’ve shared in recent weeks, albeit from a distance, I think we’re already acquainted.”

“I haven’t watched you every night.”

He raised a brow. “Almost every night.”

My face betrayed me, growing warmer by the second.

“Let’s start over,” he said. “My name is Preston Sinclair. And you are …?”

“Olivia.”

“Olivia, no last name?”

“Nightingale.”

He grinned. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

“I suppose not.”

“I’ve been planning to introduce myself since the day you moved in. I’ve noticed you’ve been spending a lot of time working on your new place.”

I folded my arms. “And?”

“I figure anyone willing to spend that much time covered in paint and dirt while still managing to look that good was worth meeting.”

I hesitated, searching for something to say. It was easy to see why so many women were drawn to him. He possessed the kind of effortless charm that made people lower their guard.

“Is that your standard line?” I asked.

“I have better ones.”

Against my better judgment, I laughed.

Hoping to shift the conversation elsewhere, I glanced at his house. “How long have you lived here?”

“Oh, let’s see now. I bought the place when I was thirty, so about twenty-five years. Long enough to watch the neighborhood change, that’s for sure.”

If he’d been living there for twenty-five years, it meant he’d been living there when I was a little girl. The odd thing was, I didn’t remember him.