He blinked water out of his eyes and focused.
Pippa hovered near the open sliding door, her hair a wet mass around her head, rain on her angled face. Her tiny tank top and shorts were soaking wet and plastered to a surprisingly curvy body. Her nipples were diamond hard against the flimsy cotton, and even though she was short, her bare legs were plenty long for her body.
That quickly, his cock joined the cacophony of pain. Hard and needy.
Her eyes widened.
He sprawled in the flimsy chair and didn’t look down. In only boxer briefs—wet ones—there was probably no doubt where his mind had gone. “I won’t hurt you, Pippa.” The name didn’t feel right on his tongue. Why not?
She swallowed, her throat moving with the effort. “I’m sorry about your head. It was my fault.”
Unless she’d walked out and hit him with a bat, he didn’t see how. “It was a tree branch from our shared backyard. It’s my fault as much as yours.” He tried to wipe blood away from his temple. “Let’s blame Mother Nature. She’s always been a total witch to me.”
Pippa’s laugh was strained.
The room still spun a bit around his head or he’d stand up and get out of there. “Give me a minute to get my bearings and I’ll leave you alone.” Even though she was scared as hell of him, she’d rushed out into that storm when he’d been injured. Then she’d brought him into her home. He’d bet his last twenty dollars she’d never brought another person in here. The woman had a kindness to her. “Okay?”
His promise seemed to galvanize her. She rushed for a kitchen towel and moved toward him, pressing it to his head. “You might need to see a doctor.”
He placed his hand over hers, even though the pressure hurt his head more. “I’ve been harmed worse, sweetheart.” Her hand was wet and smooth beneath his. Small and delicate—so damn breakable.
This close, her scent of sugar cookies and something unique, something all her and surprisingly sultry, filled his head. If he just turned his head a couple of inches, his mouth would be near those enticing breasts. His groan had nothing to do with the gash in his temple.
She lightened her hold. “I have aspirin.”
He had the hard-on of an eighteen-year-old kid. He also had Glenlivet back home. A shot or five would help.
Even with the outside door open, intimacy hushed through the small room. His body wanted to explore it while his brain fired out ahell no. He ignored her breasts and lifted his head, meeting her gaze.
Ah.
Awareness, warning, fear, curiosity, need. Maybe it was the night, or maybe it was the scare outside, but the woman’s expression was completely unguarded. He wasn’t the only one in the room having a fight between his body and his brain.
Her sapphire gaze dropped to his bare chest. And then lower.
His dick jumped in response, as if having its own conversation with her.
A fascinating—truly fascinating—blush spread from her chest, up her neck, and over her still wet face. “Well.” Her pretty pink lips barely moved with the word.
He held his breath. Would she make a move? If she did, he’d be all in. Even though it’d be a mistake of torrential proportions, he’d have those shorts off her in a second. But she had to make the move. A guy like him, one who outsized her so completely, couldn’t make the move. He wouldn’t. But if she offered, he’d probably be able to die happy. Or at least content. Definitely grateful.
She removed her hand and retreated several steps, her gaze lifting to a place beyond his left shoulder.
The disappointment was like a hammer to the gut.
She cleared her throat. “I’m not good with people. With being around people.”
Was she telling him to leave? “I understand.” He could probably stand without keeling over now.
“Mrs. Maloni lived in your house before you, and we were friends. We talked and spent time together,” Pippa said, her voice soft. “She was a good neighbor.”
Was she asking him to be a friend? “I don’t have friends,” he admitted, his headache diminishing enough that he could breathe. “At least, I haven’t in a long time.”
Her gaze returned to his. “Why not?”
He couldn’t sit there with a full-on erection in his wet underwear and bond with her. For one thing, her plastered and very thin clothes revealed every smooth line and curve of her body, and his mouth was watering with the need to explore every inch. So he planted a hand on the table and forced himself to stand. “Pippa? I’m happy to be your neighbor, and I can try to be your friend. But we’re going to have to start tomorrow, or rather, later today, when we’re both fully dressed.”
A small smile played on her lips. “This is rather ridiculous.”
