Jason cut him off, saying, “I need to buy a new part anyway.” His gaze went from the truck to the front of her house. “Before we can get started, though, we need to clear a path.”
“No, really,” Honor tried again, horrified by the idea of imposing on them. “I don’t need—”
“The mower won’t make it.” Colt gave her yard quick scrutiny. “But I could break out the Bush Hog.”
Hogan agreed. “Wouldn’t take too long to clear the front. The back would be a job, though.”
“Save it for another day,” Jason said. “I doubt that back door opens anyway.”
As the three men talked about a game plan, Honor turned to stare helplessly at Lexie.
Her friend thrust a fist in the air. “Take-charge men,” she whispered. “Lucky you.”
“I can’t—”
“Yes,” Lexie insisted. “You can.”
Overwhelmed, Honor shook her head and, raising her voice to be heard, addressed the men. “Really, this is not necessary.”
“We don’t mind,” Colt told her, and he headed off for the garage.
Apparently to get the Bush Hog...whatever that was.
“Got a key?” Hogan rubbed his hands together. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”
Lexie leaned in close to whisper, “One step at a time, remember? Trust me on this.”
Honor wanted to resist. First impressions mattered, and theirs would be that she couldn’t handle her own move. They were strangers, and they owed her nothing.
But Lexie was excited for the help, and Colt seemed so anxious to dig in. But Jason... Her gaze skipped to him and she found his expression now masked, impossible to read.
His words, though, were pretty plain.
He held out a hand, palm up, for the key. “The sooner we get started, the sooner we can be done.”
* * *
Within an hour they had the front yard cleared, with a path created in the backyard so she could at least get to her driveway. Not that it would matter if he couldn’t get that warped door repaired, but she’d been resistant enough that he didn’t want to push things. Honor Brown already looked plenty confused by their willingness to pitch in.
Confused, and somehow worried.
Colt could work on the rest of the yard later. Once the worst of it was thinned out, she might be able to keep it in shape with a regular mower.
Only he hadn’t seen one in her truck.
Everything else had been in there, though. Furniture, clothes, dishware and a few decorations.
She was average height for a woman, slight of build, but she worked tirelessly beside them, insisting on carrying in boxes that strained her shoulders despite the fact that he, Hogan or Colt could have carried three without a problem.
Curious behavior.
The mid-June day was sunny and hot and as they worked, sweat beaded on her smooth cheeks, and little wisps of her honey-blond hair clung to her temples and the nape of her neck.
He couldn’t help noticing that on her, the overheated look was sexy as hell. He wasn’t a man obsessed with sex 24/7, but seeing her now, all warm and dewy, especially with the satisfied way she smiled while working...well, hell, he was only human and he couldn’t help that his thoughts veered to carnal activities—the best way he knew to work up a sweat.
In many ways, Honor Brown seemed naive and innocent. But there was something about her determination that obliterated that impression. He had the feeling that when necessary, she could hold her own. For sure whenever one of them tried to relieve her of a load, her big brown eyes turned defiant.
That, too, was somehow a turn-on.
Her slightly taller, blonder, much bolder friend, Lexie, showed she had more sense by staying inside and unpacking what they carried in.
It surprised Jason when he saw the inside of the place. It was still a pit, but a much cleaner pit than the last time he’d seen it a few months ago. Cobwebs, dead bugs, broken furniture and dirt were now gone. Apparently Honor had been over one day last week to scrub it out. How he’d missed her, he had no idea. Must’ve been when he and Colt had gone off fishing, and Hogan was meeting with his lawyer.
By dinnertime they had everything unloaded and most of the big items reassembled and situated, including mismatched bedroom pieces, a stack washer and dryer and shelving in the small living room.
Her couch, which had been the first thing put in the truck so was the last thing out, still had a secondhand sale tag on it. So she’d bought used furniture? Didn’t matter to him—except that she was clearly stretching her budget, and given the costs inherent in buying a rehab house, that didn’t bode well for anyone.
The fact that she was so attractive didn’t help much, either.
As he and Hogan moved the couch in front of a clean but curtainless window, Jason looked to the kitchen, where he could just see Honor on tiptoe unloading a variety of dishes into a cabinet. Her profile was even more mouthwatering than the head-on view.
Snug, faded jeans hugged a perfectly plump ass. Her stretched-out posture showed the rise of her breasts and the dip of her waist. With every movement she made, her ponytail bounced.
Honor Brown was petite without being skinny, stacked without being flagrant about it and a true natural beauty, though she seemed unaware. Her tawny-blond hair almost exactly matched her golden-brown eyes, eyes shades lighter than his. Eyes that drew him in, especially when she looked at him with a mix of curiosity and awareness.
Several times he’d seen her yawn, but not once had she slowed down. The way she moved, how she blushed...her smile. He liked it all. He liked her. Too much.
She definitely shouldn’t be here.
She must have felt him looking—again—because she went still, then glanced his way. For a second their gazes held before, once more, she looked him over. And damn, he liked that, too. The girl had a hungry way of devouring him with those whiskey-colored eyes.
Hogan stepped between them as he set out a lamp, unwrapped a decorative dish and tossed a throw pillow onto the couch.
That broke the spell. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” Setting aside a plate and hurrying into her small living room, Honor said, “Just leave everything and I’ll arrange it later.”
“We’re here,” Hogan told her, carrying a box of books to a squat bookcase. “Might as well get it set up where you want it.”
Fluttering around, fretting, she said, “Oh, but...you guys have already done so much and it’s getting late and honestly I can get this all done myself, so—”
“I’m only here temporarily,” Hogan explained. “But for now, we’re neighbors. Besides, we didn’t have anything else to do today.”
“And I brought food,” Colt said as he walked back in the front door with two boxes of pizza and a twelve-pack of Coke.
Honor’s shoulders slumped. “I’ve worked you all through dinnertime.”
That made Colt laugh. “Pretty sure we insisted.”
“They did.” Eyeing the pizzas with greed, Lexie said, “Those are mighty big pies.”
“Yes, ma’am. Enough for all of us.”
“You’re a good boy, Colt.”
The banter between Lexie and Colt only seemed to rattle Honor more. She made a beeline for her purse on the kitchen table. “I’ll