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“You hire a contractor yet?” he asked.
“No. I’m going to do it myself.”
“You have a lot of experience hanging sheetrock?”
“No, but I’m watching YouTube videos to learn. It doesn’t look that hard.”
“Right. YouTube.” He smirked. “That sounds like a solid plan.”
My eyes narrowed. “What is your freaking problem?”
“Other than a busted mailbox and a bunch of shit I didn’t order laying in my driveway when I pull in to park?”
I rolled my eyes. “Are you always such a Negative Nelly?”
“Realistic, not negative.”
“You don’t know me. Yet you’re certain I’m not capable of doing repairs myself?”
“In order to hang sheetrock, you have to be able toholdsheetrock.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You know, people in this town are supposed to befriendly.”
“And good neighbors should be seen not heard. We don’t all get what we want.”
“That saying is aboutchildren,not neighbors.” I wiped a drip of perspiration from my forehead, noting that there still wasn’t one tiny bead on Fox’s stupid brow. “And why the hell aren’t you sweating after carrying all that?”
“I exercise.”
My arms flailed in the air. “Are you implying that I don’t?”
Fox’s eyes skimmed over my body before locking with mine. “Didn’t say that.”
The way my body reacted threw me off my game. “Whatever,” I huffed. “Thank you for helping me carry everything.”
“You’re welcome.” He paused. “Again.”
Theagainruined my attempt at a courteous exchange. Clearly this man wasn’t capable of niceties. I flashed an obviously bogus smile. “You have a great day.”
As seemed to be his signature move, Fox turned and walked away without a word. Who does that? Turns around without as much as a chin lift or a wave?Someone I don’t need in my life, that’s who.
Glancing over at my neighbor stalking back across his grass, I shook my head.The guy really is a jerk.My eyes dropped to his form-fitting jeans.But damn…a jerk with a great ass.
CHAPTER 3
Mr. Change
Fox
“Jesus Christ,” I mumbled to myself. “What the hell is she doing now?”
I should’ve never looked to my left as I drove past, should’ve never let curiosity get the best of me. But I did. And I stopped the damn truck too, watching through the big bay window at the front of my nutty new neighbor’s house. The little spitfire blonde was balancing on a chair, which was on top of another chair, while doing something to the kitchen light. I should’ve taken my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed 9 and 1, just to be ready for what was about five seconds away from happening.
She wobbled as she stretched up, and my heart did the same. I ripped open my truck door, about to jump out, let myself into her house, and physically remove her from the unstable setup. But then the light she was fumbling with flickered on, and she fist pumped into the air. She climbed down, and I blew out a hot stream of breath, yanked the door back shut, and hit the gas before I could witness any other stupid shit happening over there.
On my way to the jobsite, I made my usual stop at Rita’s Coffee Beanery. It used to be called just Rita’s,but she’d added the yuppie-soundingBeanerywhen she gave the place a facelift a few years back. The Airbnb yuppies who came down in search of something that doesn’t exist because of the dumb America’s Friendliest Townmoniker were more than willing to pay an extra buck fifty to buy overpriced coffee from abeanery.
“Morning.” I nodded.
