Page 1

Chapter One

Damon kicked a pile of leaves as he rounded the corner of his father’s legacy, a duplex in Maple Lane Falls, Illinois. The small yard needed to be raked, a detail which surprised him. Tugging a folded piece of paper from his back pocket, Damon scanned the list of needed repairs before jotting down leaf removal.

Of all the emails from the tenant in Unit B, nothing mentioned yard work. Before he passed, his father lived a couple hours away in a nursing home in Chicago. His bookkeeping system for the rental duplex consisted of emails and a blind faith in humanity.

Ten years as a Green Beret had trained the humanity out of Dragon, Damon’s call sign. His Army buddies still call him by the nickname, despite being a civilian for almost a year now. He both loved and hated it, a reminder of the brotherhood forged by a battle he was no longer fighting.

He refocused his attention to the list of repairs. Replacing the light over the parking area would require borrowing a 12-foot ladder. Wiggly deadbolt on back door was something he could knock out today. Maybe fixing a few of the items on the list would smooth over his introduction with the tenant. Nic seemed like a royal pain in the ass, but his rent was up to date, so he couldn’t complain.

If Nic was unhappy living there, finding a quality tenant for the vacant half would be impossible. Damon didn’t want to deal with interviewing lots of people. Or any people. However, the sheer volume of emails from Nic demanding repairs and background checks and constant updates indicated that avoiding Nic wouldn’t be possible. Not entirely. Damon would give it his best shot, though.

Stuffing the list back into his pocket, he prepared to assess the state of the supposedly wiggly back door. What met him on the back deck was a stunning pair of legs propped on a table.

Damon froze. He was trained to disappear into his surroundings, and the owner of the perfect set of legs hadn’t heard him kick the leaves or the folding and unfolding his email printout. She was absorbed in a book, sipping a can of soda through a flexible straw. She swallowed, and he gulped.

Her lips moved slightly as she read, and Damon wanted to kiss the words right off them. He wanted to disturb her peace as she leaned back on the lawn chair, not a care in the world. His cock wanted her spread out beneath him, light blonde hair tugged out of its bun as she squirmed from the pleasure. Those legs wrapped around his waist…

The woman set her drink down, and when she glanced up from her book, she screamed. Those legs came down, and her book flew at his head. He didn’t duck, though, because her throw was wide by a good three feet.

“Don’t be alarmed, ma’am.”

“Strange men looming over me are alarming.” She had the voice of an angel. “Sorry to break it to you.” A sassy, angry angel.

“Not looming. Just surprised to find you here. Are you a friend of Nic’s?” Every step he took toward her, she took a step away. He planted his feet shoulder width apart and rested his hands on his belt.

She ticked items off her imaginary list. “Handsome stranger. Showing up out of nowhere on the back deck. Tall as a tree. Standing with hands on his hips, glaring at me.” She waved five fingers at him. “Textbook loom.”

She thinks I’m handsome. “I”m not… this isn’t…” He tried lowering his hands and taking a step back. He didn’t want to scare his angel. He also couldn’t get his brain past the first item on her list.

Pushing her splayed fingers toward him, palm out, she repeated, “Loom.”

“I’m not looming at you. Stop saying that.”

“Then stop doing it.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but she shivered and goosebumps erupted on her legs. The cutoff jean shorts she wore weren’t enough in the crisp, early fall air. “You’re cold.” He shrugged out of his flannel button down and handed it to her.

She didn’t move to accept it. Her eyes bounced from his proffered shirt to his arms, to his face, then back to his outstretched arm. Did she appreciate his muscles? Working out was the only hobby he had these days, so he clocked hours in the gym each week.

She might be Nic’s girlfriend. No bachelor could be just friends with a woman this delicious. She was clearly familiar with Nic, or she wouldn’t be making herself at home on his deck.

“Why do you look so unhappy doing something nice?”

“Huh?” He shook out the flannel with both hands and nudged closer, urging her to don the shirt. Her shivering was getting worse, and he couldn’t stand the thought of her being exposed to the elements. She only had a t-shirt and those damn shorts.

She slowly accepted his shirt, wrapping it around her like a house coat; it was so large on her. “You’re grumping at me. That scowl would send small children running for their mothers.” Her finger tapped the spot between her eyebrows.

Was he scowling? This whole interaction had gotten the better of him. He rubbed both hands down his face. Inhaling a cleansing breath, he intended to ask her if they could start over. However, his nose captured a floral scent that was out of place for autumn. Was she wearing perfume, or was it just residual from scented shampoo? Glitching, his mind couldn’t move past that question.

“Okay, listen, thank you for the shirt, but it’s not worth it if you’re just going to silently loom and grump at me. Here,” she began, removing the shirt.

“Don’t do that, you’ll get cold. Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m not good with people. And I didn’t expect to see anyone here. I assumed Nic was at work.”

“How ‘bout we start with who you are and why you’re here.” She wasn’t relaxing, but she also wasn’t removing his shirt anymore.

Damon walked backwards off the deck. Maybe space would help them both. “I’m Damon, I own this duplex. I just got to town and wanted to look around the property.” Wait, did that sound creepy? Now her scowl was genuine, not a mockery of his own expression. “That came out wrong. What I mean is, Nic has been emailing with a list of repair requests.” He fished the email out of his pocket, unfolding and waving it for her to see. “I’m doing a walk-through of the empty unit and taking notes on what needs to be done.”

Silence stretched between them. His angel studied him with suspicious eyes. “No, you’re not. I don’t know who you are. You need to leave.” Reaching behind her, she began to slide the door open without turning. “If you leave right now and stop lurking, I won’t call the police.”