She took the wooden stairs to the wide porch, then rang the doorbell. It echoed softly inside the house. She heard a muffled bark. A green lawn chair sat off to the side next to an upside-down moving box with a bottle of Bud in the middle of concentric water rings.
The door clicked open. Her heartka-thuddeda couple of times at the sight of another old Alabama T-shirt and board shorts. She didn’t want to know what it would do if she looked high enough to see if he’d shaved this morning.
Novelty, she told herself. She faked a bright, sunny smile, and risked a look at those dark-lashed eyes. “Good morning.”
Jackson stared at her for half a second like he couldn’t figure out why she’d be at his house, but then he gave her a pained smile.
And it was too late to pretend she was looking for directions.
An old spaniel poked her nose into Anna’s hand. Anna gave her head a little scratch, and she wagged her tail. “Hi, there, you sweet thing.” She knelt to gather her composure and love on the dog, who ate it up like she’d never had a belly scratch in her life. “Is this a bad time?”
Jackson’s relaxed grin came back in full force. “Shucks, Anna Grace, you’re starting to give Yankees a good name. Didn’t think you’d pay up.”
The way he said her name made her feel all warm and Southern inside. “Just Anna’s fine. If you didn’t want me to come, you wouldn’t have left your address. Your momma not up for the job?”
He coughed into his hand. No mistaking the laugh lines around his eyes. “Right sure it’d make her keel over with aheart attack.”
No mistaking the unrepentant grin he sent her either. The one that saidI’d rather have you here than her anyway.
Or so she hoped.
She gave the dog a final love pat and stood. She could do this. She could handle being a single woman with a single man in his house with his dog. Doing domestic things. With no commitment.
Just…doing something. “Then it’s your lucky day. Or your momma’s lucky day.”
“You sure you got the time today? Don’t want to keep you from your studying.”
Some of her glow dimmed. “You’re not afraid of my label maker, are you?”
“No, ma’am. Just offering to be a gentleman.”
She pinned him with her bestoh, pleaselook.
He did that coughing thing again, but this time, he stepped back and held the door open for her. “C’mon in then.”
A tinny rendition of “Sweet Home Alabama” erupted from his pocket. His shoulders twitched, but he led her through the house as if he didn’t hear it.
She followed him through a small foyer and into a living room that made her palms itch. She fought to keep walking behind him, his dog at her heels, as she took stock of the mess. More paperbacks than she would’ve expected leaned in haphazard stacks about the room amid toppled piles of action-adventure and military DVDs. Two pressed-wood bookcases stood at odd angles beyond a staircase, their shelves propped up against the wall. The wide-screen television was dark. Anna would’ve bet her label maker it was hooked up and tweaked perfectly for the room though. Mismatched orange and navy throw pillows decorated an L-shaped tan sofa. Jackson’s phone continued to sing, but he didn’t reach for it.
“Aren’t you going to answer that?”
He shrugged and turned the corner. “If it’s important, they’ll call back.”
Anna followed him into the kitchen and instantly felt another zing at the glorious disaster.
They would be here for hours.
His phone stopped ringing. He tucked his arms over his chest and stood wide-legged in the space between the kitchen and the breakfast area. “Haven’t had much time to do anything with it.”
The room looked like a giant had picked it up, shook out the cabinets and drawers, then put the house on spin cycle. The counters and floor were heaped with pots, dry goods, assorted tools, and a bronze armadillo.
Wait. A bronze armadillo? Nope, not going to ask.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Jackson watching her. Her heart tripped. The taste of tart strawberries flooded her mouth. “Rent or buy?”
His eyes crinkled. “We getting personal, Anna Grace?”
“Just Anna’s fine.” She pulled her label maker out. “Temporary or permanent?”
