It's Definitely Not You - Abby Brooks Page 0,35

those new flowers coming to us on the breeze?” He inhaled and shook his head. “The worst.”

His routine began to make sense.

“This beer?” I drank, frowning as I swallowed. “So disappointing.”

He nodded like I’d made a fabulous point. “The stars? I’ve never been so disappointed in my life. I mean, what? Aren’t there supposed to be more?”

With a shake of my head, I let out a long sigh. “And this company?” I carefully met his eyes. “It’s the worst.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “The absolute worst.”

Chapter Seventeen

Joe

The first week of August came and went. My shoulder healed enough that Kennedy didn’t need to help me around the house any longer. I’d say I missed her company, but she never gave me the chance.

For some reason, she continued to hang around.

And, for maybe the same reason, I was glad.

Enough time had passed since my fall that I could no longer blame my feelings on a concussion. I was gonna have to come to terms with the fact that I liked Penny Dreadful.

She was smart. Funny. A tad cynical, but still kind. And fuck, was she beautiful. Those lips captivated me, whether they were smiling, pouting, or lashing me with a vicious comeback. Her hair, long and flowing, begged me to clench a fistful and take control of the situation. Her body was a playground for my eyes. I lost myself to her curves like a car speeding through mountain roads. The soft spot under her throat. Down her neck. Lingering over the swell of her breasts, then zooming around the taper of her waist.

“Joe?” Maxine bumped me with her shoulder. “Are you listening?”

Blinking, I refocused on the house in front of me. The porch fully restored. The door set nicely in place, still closing with barely a whisper of effort.

Concrete things like structure. Form. Exertion.

Not her beauty, the reasons for her smile, and chemistry so explosive I wished I’d focused more in science class. “Yep. I’m here. Just…lost in thought.”

The scent of lilacs arrived before she did, eliciting a smile that Maxine didn’t miss. “I couldn’t imagine why,” she murmured.

Kennedy stopped beside me, bobbing her head as she stared at the front of Maxine’s home. “What are we looking at here?”

I made a sweeping gesture. “This is what they call a house. Or home. Or domicile would work, if you’re feeling fancy.”

“So funny I forgot to laugh. Just what, exactly, are we appraising in regard to this abode?” She arched an eyebrow with the last word.

“The lady and I were discussing possible colors for the exterior of her residence.”

“I believe this dwelling place would look lovely dressed in a crisp, clean white.”

Maxine popped a hand on her hip. “You two are something else, you know that? Not everything is a competition.”

Funny. It didn’t feel like we were competing. It felt like we were playing. Relating. Flirting.

Meeting Kennedy’s gaze, I gave a light shrug of concession. She shook her head as if to say, “I have no clue what she’s talking about.”

“I was thinking I’d paint it purple,” Maxine said with a decisive nod. “I like purple. It’s distinctive. Bold.”

“Don’t you think you should consider something more mainstream? In case you want to sell one day?”

Maxine’s gaze skated over Kennedy’s face, leaving frosty judgment in its wake. “That old chestnut.”

She held up her hands. “I don’t mean now. Obviously. I’m talking long-term.”

“Speaking of long-term, how’s the work on your apartment coming?”

Kennedy rolled her eyes. “Don’t think I can’t see what you’re doing here. Yes, they ran into issues repairing the water damage because yes, turns out cheap building materials and poor maintenance has caused some big issues.” She shook her head. “I’m not even talking about apartments right now anyway. I’m talking about purple being a bad idea for the exterior of a house. No one wants a purple house.”

“I’m someone. And I want a purple house.” Maxine patted her granddaughter’s arm. “Now. I have to get going. You two enjoy the day.” She gave us a wicked look that had my thoughts doing somersaults to be the first one to the top.

Just what did Maxine think happened when she left?

Delores met her on the walk. They linked arms, tittered like little girls, and climbed into Ms. McIntire’s land yacht in search of who knew what.

Kennedy frowned as the vehicle lumbered out of the driveway, then careened down the street. “That was weird.”

Not knowing if she meant the interaction about the color purple, the strange look Maxine gave us, or both,