Lori Foster: Don't Tempt Me

She was average height for a woman, slight of build, but she worked tirelessly beside them, insisting on carrying in boxes that strained her shoulders despite the fact that he, Hogan or Colt could have carried three without a problem.

Curious behavior.

The mid-June day was sunny and hot and as they worked, sweat beaded on her smooth cheeks, and little wisps of her honey-blond hair clung to her temples and the nape of her neck.

He couldn’t help noticing that on her, the overheated look was sexy as hell. He wasn’t a man obsessed with sex 24/7, but seeing her now, all warm and dewy, especially with the satisfied way she smiled while working...well, hell, he was only human and he couldn’t help that his thoughts veered to carnal activities—the best way he knew to work up a sweat.

In many ways, Honor Brown seemed naive and innocent. But there was something about her determination that obliterated that impression. He had the feeling that when necessary, she could hold her own. For sure whenever one of them tried to relieve her of a load, her big brown eyes turned defiant.

That, too, was somehow a turn-on.

Her slightly taller, blonder, much bolder friend, Lexie, showed she had more sense by staying inside and unpacking what they carried in.

It surprised Jason when he saw the inside of the place. It was still a pit, but a much cleaner pit than the last time he’d seen it a few months ago. Cobwebs, dead bugs, broken furniture and dirt were now gone. Apparently Honor had been over one day last week to scrub it out. How he’d missed her, he had no idea. Must’ve been when he and Colt had gone off fishing, and Hogan was meeting with his lawyer.

By dinnertime they had everything unloaded and most of the big items reassembled and situated, including mismatched bedroom pieces, a stack washer and dryer and shelving in the small living room.

Her couch, which had been the first thing put in the truck so was the last thing out, still had a secondhand sale tag on it. So she’d bought used furniture? Didn’t matter to him—except that she was clearly stretching her budget, and given the costs inherent in buying a rehab house, that didn’t bode well for anyone.

The fact that she was so attractive didn’t help much, either.

As he and Hogan moved the couch in front of a clean but curtainless window, Jason looked to the kitchen, where he could just see Honor on tiptoe unloading a variety of dishes into a cabinet. Her profile was even more mouthwatering than the head-on view.

Snug, faded jeans hugged a perfectly plump ass. Her stretched-out posture showed the rise of her breasts and the dip of her waist. With every movement she made, her ponytail bounced.

Honor Brown was petite without being skinny, stacked without being flagrant about it and a true natural beauty, though she seemed unaware. Her tawny-blond hair almost exactly matched her golden-brown eyes, eyes shades lighter than his. Eyes that drew him in, especially when she looked at him with a mix of curiosity and awareness.

Several times he’d seen her yawn, but not once had she slowed down. The way she moved, how she blushed...her smile. He liked it all. He liked her. Too much.

She definitely shouldn’t be here.

She must have felt him looking—again—because she went still, then glanced his way. For a second their gazes held before, once more, she looked him over. And damn, he liked that, too. The girl had a hungry way of devouring him with those whiskey-colored eyes.

Hogan stepped between them as he set out a lamp, unwrapped a decorative dish and tossed a throw pillow onto the couch.

That broke the spell. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” Setting aside a plate and hurrying into her small living room, Honor said, “Just leave everything and I’ll arrange it later.”

“We’re here,” Hogan told her, carrying a box of books to a squat bookcase. “Might as well get it set up where you want it.”

Fluttering around, fretting, she said, “Oh, but...you guys have already done so much and it’s getting late and honestly I can get this all done myself, so—”

“I’m only here temporarily,” Hogan explained. “But for now, we’re neighbors. Besides, we didn’t have anything else to do today.”

“And I brought food,” Colt said as he walked back in the front door with two boxes of pizza and a twelve-pack of Coke.

Honor’s shoulders slumped. “I’ve worked you all through dinnertime.”

That made Colt laugh. “Pretty sure we insisted.”

“They did.” Eyeing the pizzas with greed, Lexie said, “Those are mighty big pies.”

“Yes, ma’am. Enough for all of us.”

“You’re a good boy, Colt.”

The banter between Lexie and Colt only seemed to rattle Honor more. She made a beeline for her purse on the kitchen table. “I’ll pay you for it. How much—”

“No,” Jason said before Colt or Hogan could speak. The firm refusal stopped her in her tracks.

Softening things, his brother explained, “Jason gets a deal because the pizza girl is hung up on him.”

Honor swiveled around and stared. “Pizza girl?”

“True story,” Colt said. “But I’d call her a woman, not a girl.”

“Only because she’s too old for you.” Hogan said to the ladies, “She’s early twenties, and real cute.”

Jason rolled his eyes. The pizza girl—emphasis on girl—was pretty enough, but he wasn’t interested. She might be too old for Colt, but she was definitely too young for him. “Everyone’s hungry, so let’s eat.”

Honor looked around her house. “It was super nice of you to go get food—”

“Because I’m starved,” Lexie said.

“—but there’s nowhere here to sit, much less eat.”

Colt hitched his chin toward the back of the house. “I cleared a path for you over to our backyard. We have a picnic table. Let’s go there.”

She stared at Colt, wanting to refuse but unsure how to deny a seventeen-year-old boy. Using her wrist to brush bangs out of her eyes, she waffled. “But—”

“No buts,” Hogan told her. “You don’t want to be unneighborly, do you?”

Jason didn’t mind Colt urging her, but what was Hogan’s endgame? “You guys go on. Get out some paper plates and stuff. I’ll help her finish in the kitchen and we’ll be right over.”

After a long speculative look, Hogan’s mouth lifted in a sly grin. “Sure.” Then to Lexie, “You coming?”

Lexie looked to Honor. “Do you mind? Or was there something else I could do?”

Immediately Honor shooed her away. “Go, sit. I’ll only be five minutes.” Unfortunately, the second the others were gone, she tried to shoo him away, too. “Really, Jason, I’ve got it. There isn’t that much more to do.”

Jason took in all the still-full boxes, the stacked kitchen, and shook his head. “Looks like a lot to me.”

“Everything I need right away is unpacked. I’ll get my bed together and then do the rest of it little by little. I promise, it won’t be a problem.”

He studied her and saw her cheeks go warm again. The woman blushed far too easily. Walking past her without a word, he entered the kitchen and picked up where she’d left off.

And he didn’t have to go on tiptoe to do it.

From behind him, she said low, “This is ridiculous.”

“What’s that?” He didn’t pause in unloading plates to the bottom shelf where she could better reach them, and putting serving bowls and platters toward the top.

“I don’t even know you people.”

Over his shoulder, he took in her disgruntled and confused expression. “Around here, neighbors help neighbors. When Sullivan Dean moved in across the street, we did the same thing. Few months ago Nathan Hawley moved in on the other side of me, and we lent a hand.” He shrugged, broke down the now empty box and put it on the stack of cardboard by the back door.