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“I hope you won’t hold it against me,” he said. “Especially since we’re next-door neighbors.”
Arghh! She had aneighbor. Her inner introvert cringed. He probably wanted to be all friendly and chatty. She had to get away. The last thing she wanted was a chummy neighbor to ruin her blessed solitude.
As she attempted to stand on her own, her knees slipped in the shifting garbage, and she almost fell again. Suddenly, two hands slipped under her arms from behind and lifted her up, legs dangling as if she weighed nothing—which certainly wasn’t true. Her new neighbor was strong. When her feet touched the ground, his hands lingered for a moment, until she steadied, then withdrew, a whiff of something clean and fresh wafting in the air.
“There you go,” he said. “Did you get hurt when you fell?”
With her chin tucked down, she used a curtain of blonde hair to protect her face from her neighbor’s prying eyes, lest he recognize Carlie’s famous features. Rylie’s constant lot in life was to explain to star-struck strangers that she was not her sister. In defense, she’d taken up the habit of wearing glasses and tucking her hair up into a ponytail, both of which were absent at present.
“Nothing hurt but my pride.”
“Need some help cleaning up this mess?”
“No, I’ll take care of it.” Her stomach churned. This guy was determined to be nice. If she acted rude in return, the guilt would kill her. But she didn’t want to spend the next hour with this stranger.
“I’m sorry. I haven’t even introduced myself,” he said. Through her hair, she spied his hand, extended for a shake. “My name’s Jarrett.”
Jarrett? Her breath caught in her throat. He couldn’t bethatJarrett, could he?
She flipped her hair back and gasped, meeting the dark brown eyes that had haunted her dreams for the past nine years. A few days’ growth of beard emphasized the lines of his broad jaw. His t-shirt did nothing to hide the definition in his chest and shoulder muscles. How was it he looked even better than he had nine years ago? Her heart whacked itself against her chest, slamming so hard her ribs were in danger of splintering.
“Carlie?” He froze with his hand in the air, his face blanching like he’d seen a ghost.
“I’m not Carlie.” Her throbbing heart sank, and she ducked her head, hoping he wouldn’t see the color in her cheeks. “I’m Rylie.”
Watching his smile fade in disappointment, she swallowed something the size of Mile High Stadium.
“Oh… hi, Rylie. I should’ve recognized you. I guess we’re neighbors now.” He jammed both hands into his pockets. “Small world.”
She forced her lips into an upward curve that probably looked as awkward as it felt. If only the earth would open up and swallow her.
“Small world,” she repeated. “More like miniscule.”
And cruel.
“How long have you lived here?”
“In the Denver area, for five years. In this house, only a month,” she said. “How about you?”
“I moved back to Denver when I finished my doctorate. My oncologist is here, so I like to stay close.”
He didn’t elaborate on his health, and she felt uncomfortable asking, even though she’d kept him on her prayer list all those years.
“How long have you been in this neighborhood?” She pointed at his house, which was significantly larger than hers. She’d bought the smallest home in the neighborhood, yet it had four bedrooms. In the back of her mind, she still had a vague hope of filling it with a family, someday, though the chances of that happening were diminishing rapidly with each passing year.
“A year or so,” he said. “I’ve also got an apartment in town, but I use it mostly in the winter.”
He had to be making a great salary to afford two nice homes in Denver. “Yeah, me, too. I’ve got four homes… one for each season.”
“Only four?” His dimples winked at her.
“Well, I used to have five, but I sold my Swiss ski chalet.”
“I only have two, but I love this one the most. The privacy is awesome. That, and the view.” He gestured toward the mountains. “Several coworkers have houses out here. The real estate agent for this development must target computer programmers.”
“I think you’re right,” she said. “I saw the brochure at the office. Once I came out here and saw the area, I was hooked. Took every dime I had to buy this place, so I barely have furniture. You could roller skate in my family room.”
“Not me.” Jarrett grinned, lifting the hem of his pants to reveal the prosthesis replacing the leg he’d lost to cancer as a young teen.
