The Two of Us

Chapter 1

“Excuse me?”

Ford Caruso was enjoying a much-needed break with his friends after building a deck to encircle his pool, so it took a second to realize someone had intruded. He glanced up and saw his amazingly hot neighbor, Skye Fairchild.

She normally didn’t come over to chat. He’d wave, she’d wave.

Occasionally, they’d share a short conversation from their yards.

Once, after a storm, one of her tree limbs had landed mostly in his yard.

She’d been out there in the still-drizzling rain, trying unsuccessfully to drag it into her yard, when he’d walked out and taken over—despite her protests.

Silly woman. He’d had it cut up in no time, and together they’d gotten the pieces stacked on her wood pile. They’d talked a lot then, all of it superficial and easy, but she hadn’t lingered once the work was done.

On another occasion when he’d left the house in a hurry and his garage door hadn’t closed, she’d done it for him.

When he’d come home, she’d walked over to let him know, in case anyone had seen her go into his garage to hit the door button and quickly dash out beneath the closing door.

Again, they’d chatted. Again, it had been friendly and easy, but when he’d invited her in, she’d merely thanked him and gone home.

Right next door to him.

It felt spectacularly humbling to have such a gorgeous neighbor. . . who, from all indications, wasn’t in the least interested in him.

She was always precisely polite, without a single lingering glance or hint of interest. They’d gotten to know each other over the last twelve months, but only in a superficial way. She remained in the friendly acquaintance department. A helpful neighbor. Upbeat and independent.

Through her actions—and lack of actions—she’d made it clear that she didn’t want to be a close neighbor. No flirting. No teasing.

Fine by him.

He didn’t need to win her over.

Yet here she stood, the setting sun creating a halo around her incredible body and long, wavy, fawn-colored hair. She wore a black top that perfectly hugged her breasts, khaki shorts that showed off lightly tanned legs, and a friendly smile on her face.

He, Marcus, Knox, and Bray all stared at her.

Her smile never faltered. “I’m sorry to interrupt. I didn’t mean to put an end to your”—one small hand gestured, encompassing the four of them, the pool behind them, and their drinks—“party? Or just a gathering?”

“A visit,” Ford said. “Just a visit.” If she thought it was a party, she might want to join them. “What’s up?”

“Are any of you single?”

Silently, Bray and Marcus, who’d each recently married, pointed at Ford. Even Knox, the ass, pointed, and Knox was single, too.

Feeling his neck go hot, Ford stood. Rather than be put on the spot, he switched gears. “Why are you asking?”

“Well, you see, I need a little helping hand. For . . . oh, an hour maybe? Probably not any longer than that. Only it wouldn’t be right to ask a married man to help, so I figured I’d get that sorted out upfront.”

Smiling, Knox came to his feet. “Gotta say, I’m intrigued.”

Marcus, also wearing a smile, joined him. “Same.”

Bray, who was a bit of a hard-ass, was the last to come forward. Always astute, he guessed, “You need help with an unwanted visitor?”

Relieved, she gave Bray a blinding smile.

“Exactly. He’ll be here soon, and I’ve been stewing and stewing, trying to figure out the best way to handle things.

Seeing you guys out here, I decided, why not ask?

I mean, the four of you are just hanging out, right?

” And then, with a charming grin, she added, “It would be a really huge help.”

As an MMA fighter, Bray Barlow was by far the brawniest of the four men. “What kind of help are we talking about?”

Scrunching up a nose that was slightly thick at the bridge, yet still suited her otherwise perfect face, she said, “Nothing violent, I promise. See, I have an ex. . . . Well, he’s an ex-creep but he used to be a sort-of-boyfriend.”

With a grin, Knox Nial asked, “How is one a sort-of-boyfriend?”

“Convenient?” She said it like a question. “Easy to look at, but not great to talk to. Handy when I needed a date for a function.” She waved that off. “Anyway, we had an agreement, but that arrangement isn’t working out anymore. It started to get very inconvenient, if you know what I mean.”

“No,” Ford said, irked on behalf of all men. “I don’t.”

“Let’s just say he forgot the agreement.”

“He was aware of it?” Knox asked, his brows raised.

Chin tucking, she drew back. “Of course. I was upfront about everything.”

With sympathy, probably for the guy, Bray said, “But he got invested?”

She shrugged. “He wanted to get serious, I didn’t, so I ended things a couple of weeks ago. He’s been a little”—she scrunched her nose again and searched for a word—“persistent.”

“How persistent?” Marcus asked.

“Wherever I go, he happens to be there.” She waved the behavior off as trivial. “We frequent some of the same places, so that wouldn’t be a problem except that he acts as if we’re still together, and I’ve made it clear we’re not.”

Meaning the mistreated ex was getting in the way of her making a new hookup? Too bad for her.

Yeah, Ford tried to convince himself of that. Wasn’t working.

From what he knew of Skye so far, she was independent. Nice. Considerate. She wouldn’t abuse the guy, then mosey on like it didn’t matter.

And even if she did, the guy ought to accept her decision and move on.

Continuing, Skye said, “The unfortunate part of all this is that he has a few things at my house, and he just texted that he’s stopping by. I tried texting back to say I’d bring his stuff to him, but of course there’s no reply. I tried calling, too, but no answer.”

“I’ve never seen a guy at your house.”

Everyone looked at Ford.

Yeah, maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Wasn’t like he kept watch on her or anything.

His buddies eyed him as if they’d never seen him before. Skye just lifted a shoulder. “You leave early for work, right? And a lot of times you only get home to turn around and head back out again.”

So . . . did that mean she was keeping watch on him? Ford wasn’t at all sure how he felt about that.

As if she expected the ex to show up at any second, Skye glanced back toward the street. “Once he’s here, it’s going to be hard for me to get rid of him.”

Marcus Bareden, a cop, made the obvious suggestion. “Maybe what you need to do is call the police.”

“Oh, no.” Dark blue eyes widening, she gave them her attention again.

“I wouldn’t want to bother the police just because he’s being a pest. He’s not dangerous or anything.

” She came closer, bringing with her the scent of sunshine and spice and all things delicious.

“I have a different idea, but it requires a single guy.”

Again, everyone looked at Ford. He scowled back at them.

Still calmly reasonable, Bray asked, “A single guy to . . . ?”

“Pretend he’s my new guy. See, any one of you would do. I mean, Clyde would probably be intimidated by all the good looks and buff bods. Totally extra, if you know what I mean.”

Like a bunch of preening buffoons, his friends grinned.

“He’s persistent because I haven’t started dating anyone else.

I’m thinking he’d take one look at any of you and accept that he has no chance of getting me back, and then he’d finally, hopefully, move on.

” She put her hands together in mock prayer.

“I promise it’ll be painless. All you’d need to do is hang around while he’s there, smile as if you like me—”

“We do like you,” Knox said, which prompted immediate agreement from the others.

“Aw, thanks, guys.” She beamed at them. “Wow, I should have intro’d myself before jumping in for favors, right? Sorry.”

Actually, Ford should have done that, but she’d taken him by surprise, showing up as she had, and then asking who was single.

Coming closer still, her slim hand extended, she said, “I’m Skye Fairchild. I live next door.”

Marcus took her hand first. “Marcus Bareden, happily married, but still glad to help if I can. In fact, my wife would be the first to insist.”

“He’s a cop,” Bray said, taking her hand next. “I’m Bray Barlow, fortunately married though it wasn’t easy.” They all laughed because, seriously, Bray had fought hard to win over Karen, and now they were both delirious about being together. “Also glad to lend a hand.”

“He’s an MMA fighter,” Knox explained. “Plenty of muscle if you like that sort of thing.”

“Which my wife does,” Bray said with satisfaction.

“Wow, a fighter, a cop.” Skye looked at them with awe. “You guys are impressive.”

“I’m Knox Nial, just a roofer, but ditto on what the others said.” He slung his arm around Ford. “I take it you know Ford Caruso, the one who lives here?”

She gave him a wary glance. “We’ve met.”

“He’s a pharmaceutical rep,” Knox explained—very unnecessarily. “A little too slick, too quick to schmooze, but still an okay guy.”

“There’s no just to it.” Ford nudged Knox, hoping to deflect attention away from himself. “Knox has worked in his dad’s company since he was a kid. Don’t let him fool you. He’s strong as an ox.”

Skye’s attention went back and forth between Knox and Ford. “So I was right? You two are a couple?”

Ford sputtered. “You’ve lived next door to me for a year now!”

“Has it been a year?”

She knew damn well it had. “You’ve seen me bring women here.”

Her nose lifted. “I don’t make note of your comings and goings.”

He took great pleasure in pointing out the obvious. “You just said you noticed me coming and going.”

“To work and such. I don’t pay attention to your dates.”

What bull. They each had nice yards, but there wasn’t that much space between their houses. “There’s no way you’ve missed every woman.”

She lifted a shoulder. “I’ve seen you with a few. So? You didn’t seem as close to any of them as you are with him.” She nodded at Knox.