Fury on Fire (Devil's Rock #3)(3)

Content, she sank down on her couch and turned on the television, relieved that her cable was already up and running. She flipped channels until she landed on a comedy. She saw enough grim realities at work. When she vegged in front of the TV, she preferred lighthearted fare.

She abandoned the episode of Modern Family when the timer went off. She sprinkled the tops of the hot scones with sugar until their golden-brown crust sparkled with sugar crystals. Leaving the pan to cool, she returned to her couch.

It wasn’t very long before the sound of an engine outside drew her attention. It must be her neighbors. Sharing a driveway (not to mention a wall), she imagined she would hear them whenever they came and went.

Her Realtor hadn’t imparted any information about her neighbor the few times Faith had looked at the house. Curious, she stood and peered out the peephole, glimpsing a body moving to the front door before disappearing out of sight. In that split second she identified it was a male body. A very tall male body. She marked his height, the curve of a well-muscled shoulder covered by a black T-shirt and a gold-skinned arm roped with sinew. His dark hair was on the long side, obscuring his face. There wasn’t enough time to see his features, and she felt an uncalled stab of disappointment.

She heard the key in the lock. She listened as he entered the other side of the duplex. The door thudded shut. For a moment, she absorbed the fact that only a wall separated them. Only a wall divided her from a stranger. But he was her neighbor. He wouldn’t be a stranger for long. Not once they met.

She stood there for some moments, thinking, debating how she should go about introducing herself.

Reaching a decision, she moved back into the kitchen and grabbed a plate. She carefully chose the best four scones and placed them on it. Without bothering to don her shoes, she walked outside and strode along the duplex’s shared porch, stopping in front of her neighbor’s door. She knocked twice. Nothing.

She waited several moments and then knocked again. Louder. Maybe he was at the back of the house and didn’t hear her.

Knocked again. Nothing. Staring at the peephole, she wondered if maybe he was in the shower. Several seconds ticked pass and she lifted her hand to knock yet again.

The sound of a car pulling into their driveway had her turning around. A beat-up Honda parked behind her car, blocking her in. She watched as a bombshell of a redhead climbed out of the car. She was wearing ripped-up jeans so tight they were painted on. A yellow Rainbow Brite graphic tee so thin you could see the dark leopard-print bra underneath it completed the ensemble.

She slipped her keys into her back pocket as she walked up the drive, her thick-lashed eyes landing on Faith.

“Hey,” she greeted.

“Hi,” she returned, wondering if she should say anything about the woman’s car blocking hers, but then decided against it. Faith wasn’t going anywhere tonight.

“What you got there?” Redhead nodded at the plate in her hands.

Faith glanced down, a little flustered in face of this confidant, sexy female. “Uh, scones,” she answered.

“Scones?” she echoed like she had never heard the word.

“Chocolate chip,” she added.

“Damn.” The girl bent at the waist to breathe them in. “Sounds good. These for North? You here to see him?”

“North?” Was that her neighbor’s name?

“Yeah. North Callaghan.”

Faith jerked a thumb to her new place. “I just moved in. Thought I would introduce myself to my neighbor.” She motioned to the door she had been knocking at.

“Oh. Ain’t that nice. I’m Serena.” Serena picked up a scone off the plate. She sank her teeth into the crust and then moaned in delight. “Oh my God. These are amazing. Promise me you’ll make these all the time.”

Faith shrugged uncertainly, wondering why she was asking. Because she lived here with North? Or was she simply a frequent guest? “I like to cook,” she offered.

Serena nodded. “You moving in is a very good thing. Or bad.” She laughed harshly. “My ass doesn’t need to get any bigger.”

From what Faith could see, Serena’s ass was very nearly perfect.

“Do you live here?”

“With North?” She laughed. “No. No one lives with North. I’m just a friend. I pop in . . . you know, whenever the mood strikes. North.” She chuckled again and this time the sound was throatier, as though she’d just taken a bite into a delectable piece of pie and was reveling in it. “He’s always up for a good time.”

Faith’s cheeks burned. Serena’s meaning was unmistakable. The two of them were friends with benefits. Fuck buddies or whatever.

Serena sniffed the scones again. “Maybe I’ll come by even more now if you keep supplying him with baked goods.”

“Oh, well.” She motioned lamely at the plate. “I was just going to say hello—”

Serena’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Have you seen North yet?”

Faith shook her head.

That eating-a-slice-of-fabulous-pie look came over her face again. Only this time Faith knew it had nothing to do with food and everything with this North guy. “Well, you’ll be baking more scones for him once you do. Trust me.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Let me do you a solid. I’ll give him the scones. Tell them they’re from his new neighbor. You introduce yourself to him another time.” Her thick-lashed eyes swept up and down, surveying her. “Once you’ve done something with yourself.” She whipped her finger in a small circle at Faith. “I suggest you start by losing the sweatpants. You’re tall. Wear something short and show off your legs.”