How to Love Your Neighbour(15)

Kyle’s gaze widened and he looked back and forth between her and Noah. She turned to Noah.

“Let’s make a deal. I’ll fix this my way. If Kyle thinks he or one of his guys could have done better, thinks I did a half-ass job, or that it looks like crap, you win. I’ll pay for half the fence painting and repair.”

Noah regarded her carefully. Kyle just looked like he wanted to run in the opposite direction.

“If,” she said, “it’s professional-looking enough that you can’t cry like a spoiled child about it, then we’re even. You paint it if you want but I’m not paying. Also, you stop asking about buying my house.”

She heaved out a breath, feeling like she’d run around her yard several times.

“I just wanted to run something by you,” Kyle said, his words stumbling over one another.

“What would you use to fix the fence here, Kyle?” Noah pointed.

The worker’s heavy sigh permeated the air. “Couple of two-by-fours cut to fit. Sander to smooth them out. Some primer, matching paint on those two slats. Might not be a perfect match but it’d be damn close.”

Noah nodded, held Grace’s gaze. “You fix it to my standards.”

“That’s not fair. You’ll just say it isn’t good enough to get your way.”

“Fine. You fix it to Kyle’s standards. If he says it’s as good as he could have done, I won’t ask for your half if I decide to paint the whole fence.”

Her chest was tight; her limbs were jittery. “What about my house? Will you stop asking to buy it?”

His smile snuck up on her with its charm. “Where’s the fun in that?” He held out a hand. “What do you say? Deal?”

Because she knew better than to shake without being sure, she clarified. “Kyle, you’ll be unbiased?”

The guy took off his hat, swiped his hair back, and readjusted it on his head. “I’m getting paid either way so yeah. Though I really did need to ask you something, Noah.”

But Noah didn’t respond. Grace grasped his hand, hating the spark that soared up her arm like a missile.

“We have a deal. I just need to change.”





7


Noah took stock of his emotions. Definitely a bit pissed off. Intrigued—was that an emotion? He couldn’t hide the impressed. Grace had a temper and going toe-to-toe with her made him feel almost energized. Which likely made him an ass. His mother had forced him and all of his siblings to do counseling when she’d divorced his father. In Noah’s opinion, feelings were better left undiscussed. Talking about them only muddled them up. But he couldn’t deny he was feeling myriad things when it came to his next-door neighbor.

After finishing up an email that laid out the agenda for his next SCI—Squishy Cat Industries—meeting with his brothers, he headed downstairs, checked out the progress on the wall between his kitchen and living room. Kyle was nowhere to be seen, and neither was the wall.

“Damn. That looks great,” Noah said, staring at the place where the wall used to be. See? He could do this. He didn’t need some expert telling him what looked best—though he still planned on seeing about design help. He’d walked into this room the first time and just felt like . . . he was holding his breath. Now, I can breathe. He loved the open concept.

“Pretty easy demo,” one of Kyle’s guys said. Josh should be there soon. He’d know everyone’s name.

“Great.” What else could he say? He went in search of Kyle, leaving the guys to finish cleaning up the debris of making his ideas come to life. Wes’s teasing about getting his hands dirty nagged at the back of his brain. What am I supposed to do? Offer to sweep up? I couldn’t take down the wall. Probably would have brought the house down. I’m paying these guys to do it and it’s not like overseeing the entire project isn’t work. He’d never been on-site for a job from beginning to end.

Kyle was pulling a block of wood off his saw setup. Noah wandered over. “Hey, you don’t mind letting my neighbor use a bit of wood for her attempt at proving a point?”

Kyle turned, set the wood down. “You underestimated her. She’s done.”

Noah’s head snapped up, turned in the direction of the fence. “What the hell?” He stalked over to see Grace standing up, brushing off her jeans. She pushed a pair of safety goggles up and onto her head.

“Hey, neighbor,” she said.

Noah glowered at her. He’d returned ten emails, made himself a sandwich, talked with the guys. She’d become a carpenter in that time? Who the hell was this woman?

“Who helped you?” He leaned in to inspect the work. The damage had been minimal. Really, he was just trying to nudge her over the cliff. He figured the money would appeal to her—money appealed to everyone. But no, she’d gone and issued a challenge and infused him with . . . what? Life? Energy? Indignation?

“No one helped me. Are you always like this?” She picked up a hammer and Noah stepped back, making her grin. “I’m not going to hit you with it no matter how irritating you are.”

His grin came out of nowhere. “Guess I should be thankful. I wouldn’t put it past you. So far, in our brief history, you’ve sent attack dogs after me, insulted my hedging skills, and broken my fence.”