
“Uh-oh,” Mike said, and that had to be the end of the conversation. He hadn’t run track since college, but in a crisis, he could always pour on the coals.
This definitely qualified as a pour-on-the-coals moment.
Amanda Scott sprinted right behind her new neighbor, calling for the kids, dogs and cats as loudly as he did. She’d had a moving company deliver the heavy boxes and furniture days before, but she hadn’t planned on seriously moving in until today. Naturally, the house had a post-cyclone decor. Packing boxes and cartons and furniture were strewn every which way, creating obstacles that impeded their progress…but that wasn’t the only reason she couldn’t catch her breath.
It was him.
She’d known the transition from city life to the suburbs would be challenging, but she wasn’t expecting this kind of challenging.
For five years, she’d lived her dream of a life-a gorgeous condo in downtown Chicago, an advertising job she thrived on and marriage to a perfect guy, Thom. Then came their precious baby. Then came the divorce.
The first thing she’d done-because it was the most critical issue-was give up sex for the rest of her life. Her inability to judge character in men was the reason, and Amanda was never one to duck from the truth. Although she’d moved to the suburbs solely for her daughter’s sake, Amanda figured it’d work like a charm on the celibacy thing. After all, what males was she likely to run into but married men, dads and guys heavily into their families?
Her new neighbor was undoubtedly one of the married herd. She couldn’t imagine any sane woman letting him run around loose and single. It was just…he was an unexpected jolt to her senses. Nothing unusual about the dark brown hair, but his chin had several days of disreputable unshaven whiskers. His brown eyes looked her over like a sip of warm Southern whiskey. The naked chest was smooth and sculpted; the jeans low-slung, his skin had a gleam of sun and sweat… The whole package wasn’t just a prize male specimen. He was a whole bucket of testosterone.
