Naughty All Night - Jennifer Bernard Page 0,20

felt as if she was watching a movie unfold in slow motion. Darius dropped his t-shirt and gave S.G. a wide grin. The dog, who looked to be some kind of husky mix, sat on his haunches and watched alertly as they conversed.

Slowly her breathing returned to normal. So Darius lived in Lost Harbor—was the fire chief of Lost Harbor—and he was jogging through the neighborhood. So what? It was just a weird coincidence, or one of those things that happened when you lived in a small town. That didn’t mean they’d be running into each other all the time.

Luckily, they hadn’t actually done anything last night.

Taking in a deep breath for strength, she got out of the truck and tucked her hands in her pockets. Strolling down the sidewalk toward them, she decided it was her turn to give someone else a shock.

“Hello there, Darius.”

He turned to greet her, but he didn’t seem surprised. “Hi Kate.”

Managing a friendly smile, she walked down the driveway toward him. And toward S.G., of course, except that somehow the girl was little more than a blur at this point. All she could see was Darius’ wide shoulders and tousled hair. In the daylight, he was even more attractive, which didn’t happen very often, in her experience. The firm lines of his face, the set of his jaw, the sensual curl of his lips, all were details that she hadn’t noticed the night before.

“How are you feeling—” He paused, glancing down at S.G.

Which was a very thoughtful touch that she appreciated. S.G. didn’t need to know their business.

“So you’re the Lost Harbor fire chief,” she said quickly, changing the subject. “Fancy that.”

“Yeah. And you…” His gaze shifted to her truck and her load of boxes. He raised an eyebrow. “You’re delivering something?”

“Oh, just myself and my possessions,” she said cheerfully. “I’m moving into this house. I had no idea the first neighbor I met would be the fire chief. Do you live around here?”

“Pretty close.”

She glanced at S.G., who was now crouched down next to the dog, cooing and petting him. Oblivious to anyone else. ““Listen, about…last night. I…uh…”

“I was worried about you when I woke up this morning.” He deepened his voice to an intimate level that sent shivers through her. “Didn’t think you should be driving.”

“Well, it was fine. And…thank you, for helping me. I…uh…” His physicality was so distracting, she was having trouble forming a complete sentence. “I thought you were from Oregon. If I’d known you were from Lost Harbor, things never would have gone so far.”

“A little too close to home, huh? Okay, I guess I see the logic.” She watched one corner of his mouth lift into a slow curve. There was a sexy draw to those lips. A fullness, a promise of reckless naughtiness.

Was she swaying toward him? Good God.

She took a determined step backwards. “Awkwardly enough, apparently we’re neighbors. My first order of business is dealing with the tenant who lives downstairs.” A bright idea struck her. “Maybe you can help me with that.”

“Sure. Happy to. What are you thinking…rent reduction? Maybe some renovating?”

She blinked at him in confusion. A slight wisp of an ache drifted behind her eyes, like a flashback of a headache. “Why would I do that?”

“Don’t tell me you’re about to do something nasty and kick him out. That could definitely get you off on the wrong foot in this neighborhood.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because people tend to be protective of their local fire chief.”

All the pieces settled into place—and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t realized it right away. She also couldn’t believe her bad luck. Maybe she really was cursed.

“You’re D. Boone,” she groaned.

“Fraid so. Darius Boone.” He smirked at her as he stuck out his hand. “Guess you’re my new landlady. Nice to meet you. You’re a lot different in person. In your emails, you came across kind of…antagonistic.”

Without returning his handshake, she wheeled around and headed for her truck. The pulse behind her eyes was blooming into a full-fledged ache. She probably should still be in bed. He was probably right about that. And she hated that he was right about that, because he was a jerk.

Okay, a jerk who had taken care of her last night.

And a jerk who was nice to S.G..

And a jerk who had rescued her from the mud.

She stalked past the bed of the truck, brushing against one of the boxes that had shifted during her drive down the hill.

“Watch it!” he called after

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