“Why don’t you stay here for dinner?”
I looked down at my dusty jeans and T-shirt. I was covered in dirt from head to toe and probably smelled worse than Mac.
“You probably want to go home and take a shower first,” he added, “but I want to say thank you.”
“I wouldn’t want to put you out. I used to help Sissy all the time. It’s not a big deal.”
“I’m the youngest of four. I miss having someone to talk to, and I’d really like to say thank you.”
It had been a damn long time since I’d had a home-cooked meal. The last one was probably when my folks visited—six months ago, give or take.
“If it’s not too much trouble, I can skip town tonight.”
“Then it’s a date. I’ll see you in an hour.”
My dick sure as shit stirred when Jasper called it a date. That shower was going to be for more than just getting the dust off. Maybe if I rubbed one out, I could stop thinking about how fucking hot my new neighbor was. I wasn’t some horny teenager, but my dick hadn’t got the memo.
CHAPTER THREE
Jasper
Shit, he was here.
My invitation to Hank this afternoon had been impulsive, but once it was out in the world, Ireallywanted him to say yes. Something about him called to me. He reminded me of my oldest brother, though definitely not in a brotherly way. There was likely a less weird way to phrase that, but it wasn’t popping into my mind.
Anyway, it didn’t matter now because he was on my front porch, waiting for me to let him in.
“Hey, you made it,” I said, pushing open the wooden screen door. I’d thought about replacing it, but it was vintage and fit perfectly with the house. The limestone exterior was pure Hill Country German farmhouse, with a full-length porch in front and a screened porch off the second-floor bedrooms. Out back, a wide walkway connected the house to a few outbuildings—wide enough for rocking chairs, which I planned to put out once they made it to the top of my to-do list.
I’d originally wanted to paint the wooden porch columns to match the name of my B&B—The Lavender Porch—but in the end, I decided to let the plants and furniture have color instead. Before I could spiral into a full decorating daydream, I forced my attention back to the sexy cowboy standing right in front of me.
“Yeah,” Hank said, holding up a six-pack. “Didn’t want to come empty-handed. Cider House. It’s brewed here in town. Good stuff.”
He stepped into the foyer, close enough for me to catch a whiff of clean soap and something citrusy. I forgot to move.
“Oh yay! I don’t have much more than water and Kool-Aid packets.”Jasper. Shut up.
Hank smiled a little, which helped the awkwardness. I wasn’t ashamed of being a little, but outing myself via beverage choices wasn’t the plan either.
“Come on in,” I said quickly. “The back part of the property is where I’ve moved in—it’s a lot less messy than this front half.”
“It’s not that bad,” Hank said, glancing around. “But I don’t remember Sissy’s place being quite so chaotic.”
“Yeah, well, mostly it’s because I’m taking the home out of it.” I waved vaguely at the foyer. “This is gonna be the reception area. The living room will have some seating. Still figuring out the dining room. The kitchen’s already commercial-grade—turns out Sissy might’ve been closer to opening this place than we thought.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
My eyes slid down to his bare legs—he wore board shorts covered in catfish and beat-up boat shoes.
“No jeans tonight?” I asked.
He hadn’t shaved either. The scruff looked too good, and the temptation to reach out and feel it was way too real. I shoved my hands in my pockets.
“Nah. Too damn hot. I’m off cowboy duty tonight.”
Then he smiled again, and I swear the earth tilted beneath me. I had a weakness for gravelly voices, pretty eyes, and really good smiles. Hank Vogel had all three. His teeth were white, his skin golden-tan, and a hidden dimple popped in his cheek when he grinned.
Love at second sight. Or lust. It was one of the two.
