Page 13 of A Simple Life

“You said a bad word!” she whispered.

I rubbed my head. “Sorry, Pumpkin,” I murmured, the endearment somehow slipping out. “You scared me.”

She giggled. “I’m just little. How could I scare you? You’re like a—” she paused, then smiled widely, showing off her uneven teeth “—a goliath!”

“That’s a big word for a little girl,” I mused.

“My momma teaches me words. She says they are im, ah, important.”

“She’s right.”

I frowned as I noticed the bear tucked under her arm. A familiar pink teddy bear. Far too familiar. I swallowed at the sudden worry in my chest. “Who is your momma, and why are you in this house?”

“We live here.”

“No, this is my house.”

To my horror, her chin began to quiver. “No. Momma said this is our house. I picked my color and everything!” Then she jumped up and ran away, calling for her mother.

I stood wearily, running a hand through my hair when Laura appeared and my fear was solidified. I recognized the woman trailing behind my sister, now holding the little girl.

Quinn.

And judging from what her daughter had said, and the annoyed look on Laura’s face, my new tenant.

“John?” Laura questioned. “What did you do?”

“He says we don’t live here!” the girl cried.

I held up my hands. “I think a misunderstanding has happened. I thought I was alone, and this little one appeared and informed me she lived here.” I fixed my sister with a look. “I wasn’t expecting the new tenants so quickly.”

Quinn stepped forward, meeting my gaze, hers direct.

Something in my chest kicked at the sight of her. Even though she was average height, I towered over her with my six-foot-three measurement. She wore denim overalls again, along with tennis shoes. Her daughter was dressed the same, although her shirt was pink and frilly, and Quinn’s was another plaid one with the sleeves rolled up. They shared the same long, dark-colored hair. Their features were similar, but her daughter had darker eyes. Quinn glared at me, no doubt angry with me for upsetting her daughter. There was something incredibly sexy about her protective stance and the way she was willing to face off with me. Her pursed lips were full, and for some reason, I kept staring at them, wondering if they were as soft as they looked. An errant thought ran through my mind, curious to know what they would feel like against my own mouth.

I blinked to clear away those odd thoughts and briefly wondered why I kept having them when I was around this woman.

“We didn’t know anyone was here either,” Laura informed me, giving me her own heated look that told me right now I wasn’t a good guy. “Where’s your truck?” she demanded.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “I drove to get the faucet, and it was such a nice day, I grabbed a coffee and walked back.”

“Faucet?” Quinn asked.

I indicated the sink, feeling the need to explain. “Laura mentioned it was dripping, so I installed a new one.”

She frowned. “So, you’re the landlord?”

“Yes.” I held out my hand, trying to be polite. “John Elliott.” I formally introduced myself.

She hesitated, then loosened her hold on her daughter, and extended her hand to let me shake it. It felt small and cool under my touch, the skin smoother than my rough, work-worn hide.

“Quinn Harper.”

I waited, and she shook her head. “And this is Abby.”

“Hi, Abby.”

“Momma, I thought he was a goliath. He’s so big! And he called me Pumpkin.”