How to Love Your Neighbour(8)

He had a house to make into a home, contractors to set up, ideas to see through. Starting with the house next door.

He nearly slammed the brakes when he pulled into his driveway and saw a rusty old truck sitting in the drive next door. It was piled high with a dresser, a bed frame, a covered mattress, and other odds and ends. His heart hammered so hard he wondered if it could break his rib cage.

“Are you kidding me?” He makes a vow to get this property and the owner moves in today?

He got out of his truck, locked it, and walked next door, across the small lawn at the end of their shared fence.

The man leaning on the truck looked old enough to be his grandfather. There was no way this man was going to be able to lug that bed and dresser into the house. He looked like he might pass out.

“Hey, there. You the neighbor?” the old guy asked, the weight of his body slumped against the edge of a rust spot.

“I guess so. I didn’t think anyone was going to move into this place,” Noah said, pulling out the smile he reserved for pushing a deal in the direction he wanted it to go.

The old guy pulled an actual handkerchief out of his jeans pocket and mopped his forehead. “Me neither, boy. Me neither.”

Noah’s senses prickled. Everyone had a price. He didn’t want to be his father, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t learned from him.

“I was actually trying to contact the owner,” Noah said.

The guy pushed off the truck, attempting to straighten his naturally curved shoulders. “Oh yeah?”

Interest? Noah smiled. “Yeah. I’d be interested in buying the place from you at a more than fair price. Above market value.”

The guy’s furry brows moved together, a gray caterpillar over suspicious grayish-blue eyes. “Why’s that?”

Noah pointed to his place. “I’m looking to settle in. I like it here but I need more land than I have.”

The old guy shook his head. “Kids these days always want more than they got.”

Doing his best not to frown, Noah put both hands in his pockets, holding the man’s gaze. “Just looking to improve what I already have, is all. You’d make a great profit. Everyone wins.”

“Except me,” a voice said from his left.

Noah’s gaze landed on the woman who’d hovered at the back of his thoughts all day, standing with her hands on her gorgeously curvy hips, giving him a cutting glare.

“It’s you,” he said.

She tipped her head and he had the pleasure of watching the recognition roll over her features. She sucked in a sharp breath.

“You know this guy? He wants to buy your house,” the old man said.

She looked at the old guy, frowned even deeper, and put a hand on his arm. “You should sit down. Go inside for goodness’ sakes. Hugo will be here soon.”

“Name’s Morty. Good luck convincing her. She’s as stubborn as you are pretty,” the guy said to Noah.

Noah’s jaw dropped at the very odd exchange and watched the man—Morty—limp toward the house.

“Your . . . dad?” Noah asked, looking down at the woman watching him. Jesus. She had a pair of eyes on her that lit his insides up like fire. Which was not helpful, considering she had what he wanted. What he needed. It felt like it’d been so long since he’d made a deal that gave him the energy-spiking adrenaline he craved.

“No. Good friend,” she said.

Noah arched his brow, waiting for her to explain, but she didn’t. “I’m Noah Jansen. You’re the dog walker.”

Her lips quirked. “That and more. I’m Grace.”

She didn’t offer a last name but shook his hand when he extended it. He had to grit his teeth to keep from responding to the feel of her palm sliding against his. Josh was right—he needed to go on a date. He wrote off the sizzle that traveled up his spine as eagerness to convince this woman he could make her financial dreams come true.

Grace pulled her hand back, shoved it into the pocket of her jean shorts.

“Guess we’re neighbors,” she said, looking over at his house.

“Unless,” he said. No point in hesitating or beating around the bushes he wanted to haul the hell out of his yard. Her things were still in the pickup. What better time to make a move? Timing was everything. Not just in business but in life.

She turned her head, looking at him with those dark brown eyes that he was certain were sizing him up. “Unless what?”

“I’d love to buy your property.”

“It’s not for sale.”

He grinned. He loved this part. “No? Not even for double the value?”

“Not even,” she said as if he’d just asked if she had a cup of sugar.

“I’m not joking,” he said. Eyeing her closely, he looked for a tell—that thing that showed a hint of intrigue. He was dressed to work out, not negotiate. Usually, when he was working on or closing a deal, his three-piece Armani did a lot of the talking for him. Maybe you’re off your game, Jansen.

Grace’s smile came in small degrees, feeling too much like a damn punch to the heart.

“Me neither. Nice to meet you. Officially.”

With that, she turned on her heel and walked into the house. Noah stood there staring after her, wondering what the hell had just happened.