Chapter 2
Chapter two
Peering through a pair of custom-designed, high-quality night vision binoculars, Sabrina Ross watched the house next door for several hours before becoming utterly exasperated.
Jayson Knight was a freaking hermit. How was she supposed to get into his house and snoop around when the man rarely left?
What the hell did he do in there all day?
Since it was Friday night, she’d been hoping he’d go out for a few hours so she could sneak over and get a closer look at his security setup.
The man was a former Army Ranger, so she knew he probably had cameras and an alarm system.
Guns, too. The last thing she wanted was to get caught and have him start shooting at her.
As a highly-trained military man, he wouldn’t miss.
Letting the blinds snap closed, she lowered the binoculars and once again began questioning her life choices.
After graduating college with a Master’s Degree in Criminology, she followed in her father’s footsteps and began working at the FBI as an intelligence analyst. She’d spent years analyzing crime data, identifying trends, patterns and potential threats to help law enforcement make strategic decisions.
She’d sat at a desk all day and gotten comfortable.
Too comfortable. When she made an off-handed remark about it to her dad, he’d encouraged her to challenge herself more and become a special agent like him.
Always wanting to please him, she became a field agent. Now, he was exceptionally happy…and she couldn’t be more miserable.
The job was tough, but that wasn’t the problem. She enjoyed a good challenge, and her dad’s approval meant everything. Probably more than it should. Because at some point, she started wondering why she’d let her happiness take a backseat.
Her dad had been her world for as long as she could remember, raising her after her mother left when she was only two.
No doubt about it—she was a daddy’s girl.
But after two years in the field, she was having second, third and fourth thoughts.
Her heart just wasn’t in it. On top of that, the job was stressful and taxing as hell, often making her doubt herself.
The looming question was becoming weightier every day—how could she leave the Bureau and escape D.C. without upsetting her father?
Sabrina set the binoculars on the table and massaged her temples.
The truth was, she wanted to change careers completely.
She was forty-two years old and had been studying the criminal mind for far too long.
That kind of darkness had a way of seeping into your soul, and she didn’t want that.
By nature, she was a happy person. She yearned for something lighter and maybe even creative.
She wanted out before her inner light and hope permanently dimmed.
Her demanding, depressing and extremely unsatisfying job necessitated moments to let loose and refill her happiness well.
Over the last few years, it had drained considerably.
Some of her colleagues went to the shooting range.
Others went skydiving or snorkeling. One of the few things that gave her that sense of immense joy was listening to her music and utterly losing herself.
It allowed her to shut out all the noise and turn inward as she absorbed the harmony.
Somehow, it created a soothing and sheltering cocoon around her mind. And she needed that right now.
Grabbing her phone—already connected to the massive surround sound system throughout the house—she pulled up her favorite playlist and hit play.
An upbeat song by a popular artist filled the air, immediately lifting her spirits.
She stood there a minute, soaking up the melody, the lyrics, the happy, bubbly essence of pure pop.
Letting her heartbeat sync up with the beat of the drums, her hips began to sway and she danced around the room as she sang the refrain.
It took her a minute to hear someone pounding away on the front door.
Startled out of her dancing, she turned the volume down.
Walking across the living room, she glanced out the window to see the object of her earlier stakeout standing on her porch, arms crossed, a scowl on his very handsome face.
Because, yeah, Jayson Knight was better looking than she would’ve liked.
But not in a classically handsome way. More rugged, and in a yummy masculine way that made her bite down on her lip and curl her toes.
The kind of man who gave a lady dirty thoughts. So not good.
And now she was going to get her very first look, up close and personal.
Good, she’d been trying to figure out a way to introduce herself. He was saving her the trip and the struggle over what legitimate reason she’d have for going over there.
Giving her shoulder-length hair a shake, she cleared her throat and opened the door. A blast of cold air swept inside as she sent him a friendly smile. “Hi. You’re my new neighbor, right?”
Incredible hazel eyes narrowed at her, and her focus drifted to the small scar between them. “Do you know what time it is?” he demanded in a growl.
She tore her attention away from the oddly attractive scar and lifted her phone. “Uh, yeah, it’s 8:52.”
A funny look passed over his face, and she got the impression he thought it was later. “Right, well, this is a quiet neighborhood and my house is vibrating from your loud music.”
Geez, what a grump. But she forced another smile, quickly apologizing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“It’s fine.”
She didn’t miss the way his gold-flecked gaze skated down her body. Nor could she ignore the shivers that followed, pricking her skin. It was probably just the cold air blowing in, she reasoned. It had absolutely nothing to do with the man himself. “I’m Sabrina, by the way.”
He locked eyes with her and her heart thumped harder.
Oh, no. Flutters swirled through her belly, and even though she hadn’t experienced it in so very long, she knew exactly what that dangerous feeling meant.
She hadn’t allowed herself to travel down that road in forever, because getting hurt really sucked.
No, Sabrina, you can’t be attracted to your mark. He’s most likely a criminal. One you’ve been tasked with bringing down.
This was so very not good.
“Jayson Knight,” he said. His voice was nice. Smooth like whiskey and just deep enough to make her imagine a mug of hot chocolate spiked with that same alcohol—a combination that traditionally resulted in her making some very bad decisions.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
She tilted her head, studying him. The cardigan beneath his open jacket was cute. Such a dad thing. But in a good way. A total DILF. Dammit. There was no denying it. If given the opportunity, she’d like to hop-on-pop.
Hmm. The plans in her mind began to shift. Maybe instead of sneaking into his place, she could wrangle an invitation. Flirt her way in, so to speak. It would definitely make the job easier. More enjoyable, too.
First step, make him feel comfortable around her. Welcome in her world so he’d be more likely to reciprocate. “Would you like to come in? It’s freezing out there.”
He hesitated, glanced over her shoulder, then took a step back. “I can’t. I’m, uh, working.”
“At nine o’clock on a Friday night?” She raised a dubious brow, getting her flirt on. “That’s no fun.”
“Yeah, well, do me a favor and keep the music down,” he grumbled. Then he turned and stalked away, his long strides taking him back across the lawn and to his house.
“Wow,” she murmured, brows drawing together in a frown as she closed her door. “Did that seriously just happen?”
Her idea to charm him crashed and burned.
She’d read through his file and knew he didn’t have a wife or girlfriend.
The only woman in his life was his adult daughter, Emma.
From her own observations she knew the man practically never went anywhere.
She never saw him bring women home. He was one serious loner.
And the sting of his rejection made her start questioning her own self-worth.
She knew she was rusty, but was she so bad that solitude was preferred to her company? Ouch.
Glancing at her reflection in the nearby mirror, she saw an older version of herself than she would’ve liked.
Smile lines, check. Faint wrinkles around her eyes, for sure.
But she had some makeup on and had thought she looked fairly cute and entirely harmless in her yoga pants, sweatshirt and fluffy slippers.
Well, until he’d flat-out dismissed her invitation.
Apparently, she wasn’t Jayson Knight’s type.
Well, that really sucked. Because her silver fox neighbor was hot as hell. Too bad he wasn’t interested.
But that’s probably a good thing, she told herself. The last thing she needed was another one-sided relationship that would leave her once again questioning her life choices and nursing her spurned heart.
It would also mean less complications when she took down him and his buddies.
“Fuck,” Jayson ground out, slamming his front door closed. Had he really told her to keep her music down? Why had he come off like such a grouch? The only thing worse would have been telling her to stay off his lawn. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asked himself.
His mood turned from bad to worse. He shucked his boots, tossed his coat on the peg, then stalked into the kitchen. With a sigh, he grabbed a beer from the fridge and downed half of it in several long swallows.
“Welp, good job, old man. She invites you in and you start babbling about working and run away like your ass is on fire. Way to get back in the game.” Hell, he was more rusty than he thought.
Rolling his eyes, he dragged himself over to his recliner and plopped down. Defeat washed over him, and he wondered when he’d turned into Grumpy Old Man of the Year. It had definitely snuck up on him.
He used to like going out and being social. Enjoyed meeting new people. Back when he had more energy and knees that didn’t crack with every step, he went fishing, hiking, boating and skiing. Now? Not so much.
Hitting the button to lift his legs, he settled back in his recliner, but he didn’t turn on the TV.
Just thoughtfully sipped his beer as he pictured his new neighbor, Sabrina.
Remembering how, right before he’d knocked, he’d gotten a glimpse of her dancing around the room through the window.
Sexy and carefree. Shaking her hips and tossing her hair.
Damn, there was a lot about her that had burned into his mind.
Her shoulder-length, caramel-colored hair with honey highlights that matched her amazing honeycomb eyes had fascinated him.
He’d never seen such incredible eyes before—a golden hue with dark brown rims. She was average height, maybe five-five, and he could tell there were some generous curves hidden under her sweatshirt.
She was younger than him, but not inappropriately so.
He’d never date anyone young enough to be his daughter. That was a big no in his book.
She’d only been living next door a couple of weeks or so, but from his quick look inside, she seemed settled in. He’d noticed the feminine touches—candles, trinkets and other decor, a large, framed picture of Sunflowers by Van Gogh. He’d recognized it because Emma used to have the same one.
Fitting. The way he’d caught her dancing, looking so bright and carefree, reminded him of the cheerful flower.
Finishing the final swig of his beer, he plunked the bottle down on the armrest and frowned. Tonight was the first time they’d met, and he’d screwed it up. She probably thought he was the biggest, lamest idiot. He’d certainly done nothing to prove otherwise.
“Okay, so you messed up,” he murmured to himself. “Doesn’t necessarily mean you’re done.”
She had invited him inside, and he was going to cling to that fact and figure out a way to make it happen again. To turn things around. This was his chance to wade into the dating pool again. And he didn’t have to deal with the online bullshit. He could do it the old-fashioned way.
But first, he had to make up for running scared and acting like he wasn’t interested. Because he couldn’t deny it. He was very interested in getting to know Sabrina better.
Time to hang up the ol’ cardigan. Because this dad is going for it.