Under Pressure (Body Armor #1)(134)



“You’re a good person, Honor. You know that, right?”

And that was her code for bullshit. Honor sighed. “I try, but I swear, sometimes my patience isn’t what it should be.”

“Your patience is exceptional. They’re just evil.”

“Old,” Honor corrected.

“Hon-or,” Lexie drawled in that chiding way she had that drew out the syllables of her name. “Stop defending them.”

Was that what she’d been doing? Maybe. Mostly just to keep the peace, though. This was a momentous day and she wanted it to stay happy and upbeat, not get dragged down with worries and animosity.

They turned the corner on the quaint, older street and Honor could finally see the beautiful, wonderful, life-altering home she’d purchased thanks to the Ashwood, Ohio, Chamber of Commerce’s new mission—to rehab the town of Clearbrook through initiatives around marketing, business attraction and retention efforts.

Supposedly they’d run off the crime element, cleaned up the streets and, luckily for her, offered special financing on run-down houses with the agreement that the owners would improve the property in a timely manner. She could hardly wait to get started.

Funds would now be limited for a while, but a lot of what needed to be done required time and energy more than cash. Somehow, in the middle of the craziness called her life, she’d manage to find some of both.

“Dear God,” Lexie muttered, losing her amusement. Her feet dropped to the floor and she leaned forward as far as the seat belt would let her. “Please tell me that’s not it.”

“It is,” Honor confirmed with pride. Sure, it was a little rough, the lawn overgrown, the landscaping obliterated. But now it was hers. Lexie might not see the possibilities—but Honor most definitely did. “All it needs is some TLC and love.”

“Or maybe a...demolition?”

“Don’t be dramatic.” With a frown, Honor added, “I wanted you to be happy for me.”

“I know, and I am. I just don’t see why you always want to do things the hard way.” Going quiet, Lexie drew in a breath and straightened her shoulders. “I’ll help. With everything. No, don’t argue. I can’t claim I’m strong and I’ll admit I’ve never remodeled anything. Honestly I’ve never held a hammer. But I’m here for you.”

“Between dating and working and shopping, you mean?” Honor loved Lexie like a sister, but their social calendars, as well as their motivations, were as different as night and day.

As they neared the house, three men stepped out from the garage next door. They’d obviously been working. One held a motor of some sort while the other gestured toward it. The tallest nodded as he cleaned his hands on a towel.

“Oh, hey.” Lexie perked up. “What’s this? Man candy? Very sexy man candy.” She rounded on Honor. “You’ve been holding out!”

Repeatedly glancing at them, Honor shook her head. Nope, no holding out. This was the first time she’d laid eyes on the men. Fact—because if she’d seen them, she sure as heck would have remembered.

“Oh, please, please, please,” Lexie whispered. “Let them be single.”

The guys looked up as the truck drew nearer.

Wiggling her fingers in a wave and grinning hugely, Lexie said, “Okay, so maybe Clearbrook has some appeal after all.”

Flustered with all three men staring at her, Honor accidentally ran over the curb as she maneuvered the truck to the front of her house. Worse, she hit a garbage can and it clattered to the street with nerve-wracking noise.

“Oh, crap.” The truck stopped with bone-jarring impact, and she sat there, stock-still, embarrassed and hoping beyond hope that the men went about their business and ignored her.

“Good going on killing the trash can,” Lexie said with enthusiasm. “That got their attention.”

“I don’t want their attention,” Honor groaned.

Laughing at her, Lexie said, “Relax. They were already looking.”

What a way to make a first impression. Casting a glare at her friend, Honor said, “Shush it. And for heaven’s sake, stop staring!”

“Too late.” Lexie quickly fluffed her short pale blond hair and adjusted the V-neck of her shirt, tugging it a tad lower. “They’re coming this way.”

“Oh God.” After a deep breath, Honor put the truck in Park, turned it off, and—okay, she needed one more breath. “Roll up your window. Pretend you don’t see them. Maybe if we rush into the house real fast, they’ll leave us alo—”

“Hello.”

Cringing, Honor glanced toward Lexie—and found all three men peering into the truck at them. They were each so tall they had to duck down to see in. One guy wore a T-shirt, one a polo, and the other wore no shirt at all.

Combined they gave the impression of masculine curiosity, dark hair and beard shadow. Two of them grinned, and those grins had definite impact.

But the intense expression on the shirtless one about stole Honor’s breath.

She blinked and stared, blinked and stared. Repeat.

The youngest of the three, the one in a T-shirt, laughed. “Busted. No sneaking off now.”

“Colt,” the unsmiling man said in a low, deep voice that teased over her nerve endings and made her heart race. “Pick up the can and spilled garbage, will you?”

Lori Foster's Books