Lots of Naughty & A Little Nice - Leigh Lennon Page 0,3

he reaches for his parted lips. “Um, yeah, because like I said…”

I lift my hand up to stop him. “Okay, Rowan Peterson, meter maid of parking, president of the homeowners’ association, and obsessor of luminarias. Sure, I’m a part of this neighborhood now, and hell, I wouldn’t dream of being the only house without them.” I give him a little once-over, and his cheeks redden.

“I’m really sorry,” he says yet again. I’ve embarrassed him. My words were meant to lighten the mood between us, not to create more awkwardness.

“Nah, Rowan, no problem. You’re just lucky you’re cute, or I may have gotten really mad.” I leave the glass where it is and make a note to have my sister stop by the store to get a broom. “Just let me know how much I owe you for the lights, and I’ll write you a check. And thanks for the welcome to the neighborhood, neighbor.”

Am I flirting? I think I am, and Rowan Peterson may very well be the needed distraction my heart desires right now. And this time, I’m not pissed as hell at him. Yeah, I could get used to Rowan Peterson sneaking up on me again—for sure.

“Ave? Yo, Ave?” It’s my sister’s loud mouth calling for me as she slams the door behind her.

“I’m in the kitchen, Whit!” I holler from the back room, where I’m looking out at the beautiful backyard while sitting on the kitchen counter because I forgot to grab my portable beach chairs to have something to sit on.

She’s trudging through the house in what has to be her combat boots. My sister and I have conflicting styles. She thinks mine is snobby, high-end, and aloof, and she’s not wrong. I think her style is gaudy, loud, and lacks flair, and I’m not wrong either. But it doesn’t matter because, at the end of the day, I’d do anything for Whitney, who is thirteen years my junior.

She rounds the corner, carrying a new broom in her hand. “You weren’t kidding, sis. There’s glass all around your precious Corvette. I’ll run out there and clean it up after supper.” She doesn’t give me a chance to speak because she continues without taking a breath, leaning over the kitchen sink, looking out the window into the backyard. “And who the hell is the hottie in your garage with a broom, sweeping up all the broken glass?”

Twisting around, I adjust my head to look out the little window with a view of my garage. And sure enough, it’s the awkward, sexy man responsible for the fact I won’t have wine to drink tonight or the new painting I wanted so much.

“Ah, he’s our new neighbor.”

Her eyes, dark with black eyeliner around them, squint at me as she moves her head just slightly to one side. I prepare for a sarcastic remark to fall from her lips, but we’re interrupted by the doorbell. “Ah, saved by the bell. And I had a whopper of a comeback, Ave.”

My sister, the opposite of me, is the center of my world. When our mom passed away two years ago, I’d been so focused on my career, and Whitney had seemed happy living with her dad—who is not my dad. But come to find out, she hadn’t been happy for some time. And when he started a new job with crazy hours, I suggested a change. He happily accepted because he was never cut out to be a father. That was exactly four weeks ago. The social worker urged me to find a house for the home studies, giving me a better chance for the judge to grant me full custody. Even at sixteen, Whitney needs stability, and I’ve been hell-bent on making this happen.

The creak in the door as Whitney pulls it back makes me grab a pen and a notepad from my purse, adding oiling the mahogany beauty to my many to-do’s.

A deep voice, different from before, echoes throughout the bare rooms. “Um, sure, I guess. And hell, you’re speaking her love language.”

I’ll need to chat with my sister about the rules concerning strangers and willingly inviting them into our home. But when she rounds the corner from the foyer, this thought is pushed to the wayside as another handsome man, different in his demeanor from earlier, follows my sister.

He lets out a deep chuckle, an almost nervous one, as he holds up a bottle of wine. “You must be the new neighbor my boyfriend scared the hell out of.”

Did