Tawny Weber - Call To Honor

“Good yard for working out,” he said with a nod of approval. He moved across the lawn with the same light-footed grace as he’d shown in his martial arts dance. He stopped along the way to grab the ball, then continued until he was a couple of feet from her. There, he simply stood, tossing the ball from hand to hand, staring.

“I should get that to Nathan.” She cleared her throat, tried a smile. It failed but she figured she at least got points for trying. “He’s very attached to it.”

“The kid’s a pistol.” His eyes were much too intense as he watched her face.

Didn’t the man blink?

That’s when she realized what she must look like. She’d tossed an oversize tee claiming Just Say Zen atop her green yoga bra and leggings, so unlike some people, she was decently covered. But her hair was pulled into a sloppy ponytail, and she was sure that whatever makeup she hadn’t sweated off during her workout had washed away during that first, or maybe the second, crying jag.

The only way this could be any worse was if she threw herself on his chest and started licking her way down his body. And given her reaction to simply thinking about it, she decided she’d better hurry up and get out of there before she did exactly that.

From the look on his face, he knew it, too.

“Thanks for finding it.” She held up one hand to indicate that he throw her the ball. But while he tossed it in the air, it was only to catch it again. What was he waiting for? She had to remind herself that this was a friendly neighborhood, and people expected actual conversation from time to time.

“I appreciate you taking the time to fix Nathan’s bike,” she said, wishing she could clear the nerves out of her throat. But that would just give him proof that he had her all stirred up, and one thing Harper had learned young was to never give a man that kind of upper hand.

“Fix his bike?” he repeated, as if surprised. “You mean out front today? We were just talking.”

Despite the shimmying tension in her belly and the tightness in her chest, that attempt at innocence in his voice made Harper laugh.

“Mmm, he’s having trouble with the chain. Probably has something to do with jumping his bike when he’s not supposed to.”

“Wouldn’t know about that. Like I said, we just talked for a few minutes. He’s a friendly kid.”

The compliment smoothed out her frayed nerves just a little. Breathing deep for the first time since he’d stepped through the hedges, Harper glanced up at the second floor of her fancy new house. Nathan’s window glowed with friendly cheer.

“He’s comfortable with people,” she said, half to herself. “Easy with them.”

“How about you?” He waited until her eyes met his again, the shadows dancing in wicked angles over his face. “Are you just as at ease and comfortable with strangers?”

She wasn’t even that comfortable with friends. But that wasn’t any of his business.

“I’m not seven years old, so I see people a little differently than Nathan does” was all she said.

“I guess he gets that easiness with people from his dad, huh?” Even as his lips quirked, that dark gaze seemed to intensify. “Me, all I got from my old man is my height.”

His expression was easy, his demeanor mellow. Still, nerves did an edgy cha-cha through her system. Maybe it was the mention of fathers, or just the pointed reminder of Brandon. Whatever it was, Harper didn’t like it.

“It’s a little soon to tell how tall Nathan will be,” she said, her words a chilly sidestep to his question. “Thank you for the help finding the ball. I’ll take it in to him now.”

His eyes not leaving hers, he moved closer.

Close enough that his scent—fresh male with a hint of earthy sweat and clean soap—wrapped around her.

Close enough to touch. All she had to do was reach out to trail her fingers over that hard flesh. Was he warm and slick after that workout? Or had his skin cooled, sweat sticking like a salty blanket? Her body hummed, nerves shimmering so hard her fingers trembled. She reached for the ball.

What was he looking for? What was he seeing? Finally, he placed the ball in her outstretched hand. Then, as if expecting something more, he stood there, waiting.

For what?

No matter how much her jump-started libido wanted otherwise, she wasn’t actually going to lick him.

“Thanks,” she murmured, gripping it tight. It was stupid for her heart to speed up now that she was only a moment from safe, but race it did. Harper gave the no-longer-smiling neighbor a brief nod, then turned to duck back through the vine-covered gate.

“Hey.”

One hand filled with the soft leaves, the other gripping the ball to her chest, Harper stopped to glance over her shoulder.

“Everything okay?”

No. But since she didn’t know why it wasn’t, she lied. “Fine.” Unable to resist, she added, “Why do you ask?”

Clouds cloaked the moon now, dimming its light so his eyes were cast in night shadows. But Harper could still feel the power of his stare.

“Maybe I just don’t like seeing a beautiful woman in a hurry to get away from me.” The shadows did nothing to hide the wicked charm of his smile or the hint of sexual heat in that shielded gaze.

It was the same heat Harper felt sizzling deep in her belly. An awareness and a whole slew of promises—all of which were as suited to the dark night as the man himself seemed to be.

Who knew she’d want that so desperately?

Oh, boy, there it was, Harper realized in a flash.

The reason for her nerves. All that masculine energy, all that sensual interest, all the impossible possibilities, they crowded her thoughts, filled her body.

Thankfully, the tiny voice in her mind still had enough control to scream danger.

“I’m hurrying because I don’t like to leave my son inside alone,” she managed, hoping her words didn’t sound as breathless to him as they did to her. “Again, thanks for your help.”

And with that, she tossed pride and dignity aside and slipped through the hedge before he could say another word. It wasn’t until she was inside the house that she realized she was holding her breath. Releasing it in a harsh whoosh, Harper leaned against the closed door and focused for a moment on getting the air in and out.

What was she doing? Getting lusty over a man just because he had a sexy smile and a gorgeous body? Just because his eyes promised all sorts of delights and his chest made her fingers tingle to touch? Sure, he looked as if he could’ve posed for Michelangelo’s David with those sculpted muscles and all that smooth skin. And maybe the hint of an accent and flashes of humor were intriguing. But was that an excuse to picture the man naked? To wonder if he had the kind of talent in bed to make her moan with pleasure?

At that point, Harper had enough breath to laugh at herself. Because if those weren’t reasons to get lusty, she couldn’t think of what was. Deciding to give herself a break, she peeled herself off the door and, resisting the urge to peek out the window, flipped the lock and turned off the lights.

Wouldn’t Andi be proud, Harper thought, grinning and tossing the ball from hand to hand as she climbed the stairs. Not that she would tell her. Andi wouldn’t understand. Because as much fun as it was to discover that, yes, indeed, she had a libido, Harper had no intention of doing anything about it.

No matter how lusty the guy made her feel.

* * *

AN HOUR LATER, halfway through her nightly bedtime routine, Harper glanced in the bathroom mirror and frowned. Was that a wrinkle?

She rubbed her finger along the faint line scored between her meticulously arched brows.

Her frown deepened. So did the line. It was a wrinkle. How could she have a wrinkle? She was only twenty-five. Weren’t wrinkles at least a decade away?