Nothing Between Us (3 page)

Colby had gotten used to being one of the few of his friends who wasn’t rolling in cash. He’d saved up a lot of money from The Ranch and had invested the money he’d made from his brief music career early on, so he did well for himself, better than most. But he tried to be smart and not live lavishly. He didn’t need—or want—that castle on the hill. What he had now was a thousand times better than the broken-down rental house he grew up in. He had a nice home with a pool. Quiet neighborhood. And privacy. That was all he required.

Kade shut the fridge. “You know the kids aren’t going to understand your costume, right?”

“I’ll tell them I’m an ax murderer,” Colby said, lifting up the plastic wrap on the gelatin brains and snagging one. He popped it in his mouth.

“Believable. You’re the type. The friendly neighbor who disappears for long stretches of time on the weekend with implements of torture in his truck. Deviant bastard.”

Colby grinned. “Takes one to know one.”

“So you have a hot date coming over tonight?” Kade asked, helping himself to one of the shots.

“Nah, I’d figured me and your brother could represent the dwindling singles population in our group, but I heard he sprained his ankle yesterday. So I guess I’ll just flirt relentlessly with everyone else’s women to keep myself entertained. Your girl did say my outfit looked good on me.”

“Uh-huh. Unless you plan to use that ax tonight, I wouldn’t recommend treading in my territory.”

Colby chuckled. “Look who’s developed a possessive streak.”

“Damn straight.” Kade nodded toward the window, where rays of dusky sun were stretching over the side yard. “What about your hot neighbor? She doesn’t look like she has any big plans tonight.”

Colby leaned forward on the countertop, squinting at the view through the window. His neighbor, Georgia, had ventured out of her house with a package in one hand and gardening gloves in the other. He walked toward the window, following her with his eyes, and propped his shoulder against the frame. It was such a rare occasion to see Georgia outside that he had to take the time to savor and appreciate the view.

She was obviously prepared to get dirty. She’d tied a purple handkerchief around her head to keep her curly halo of black hair away from her face and was wearing threadbare jeans and a faded White Sox T-shirt. But hell if he could imagine her looking any better. Something about the way those jeans hugged her curves and sat just a little too low in the back, exposing the dip of her tailbone and a swath of creamy cocoa skin, had everything else fading into the background.

She headed toward the side of her house, peeking over her shoulder more than once as if she were waiting for someone to show up in her driveway. She couldn’t be worried about trick-or-treaters yet. It was still too early. A guest, maybe? But no one was there. And Colby would bet money that no one would be coming. Georgia never had visitors—unless they were only stopping by while he was at work. His gut told him that wasn’t the case.

She plopped the package next to her herb garden, kneeled in the grass, and took one last glance toward the front yard. When she seemed assured she was alone, she put on her gloves, pulled a ball of wired plastic pumpkin lights out of the box, and leaned forward, bracing on one hand and stabbing a stake into the ground with her other. Her jeans sank lower down her backside.

Now that was a sight Colby didn’t need to see. Georgia on all fours, the barest peek of her ass taunting him and sending his thoughts in a decidedly X-rated direction. Damn, what he wouldn’t give to end his night with that view, his hands spreading over those flared hips.

But he knew it would never fly. Georgia Delaune was like some mysterious, uncharted island. One with tall, craggy, stay-the-fuck-back rocks around the perimeter and no lighthouse. Not that she’d ever said a cross word to Colby, but he’d gotten the message just the same. He’d tried to flirt with her when she’d first moved in and though he could tell she wasn’t . . . unaffected by him, he’d felt that thick wall rise up between them. Since then, he’d had the feeling that, for whatever reason, he’d been given the
Look, but don’t touch
label in Georgia’s head.

Because, God knows, she
looked
—and had seen way more than he’d ever allowed anyone outside his circle to see. But he liked it too much to make her stop.

His neighbor thought she had a secret.

Colby knew better.

“Earth to Colby?”

Colby snapped out of his spinning thoughts. “What?”

Kade lifted an eyebrow. “I said why don’t you go over and invite her to the party? It’d be a neighborly thing to do.”

Colby snorted. “Neighborly?”

“Fine. Fuck neighborly. How ’bout this? You’ve been working your ass off. You look exhausted. And I think you need a little fun in your life. Go invite hot neighbor chick over and have some. We promise to behave—mostly.”

“You totally should,” Tessa said with a sage nod from the doorway of the kitchen. Colby hadn’t even noticed her come in. “That lumberjack getup is like girl Kryptonite. She’ll say yes. Plus, we could use another woman around here to even out the testosterone.”

Kade sent his woman a narrow-eyed glance. “Girl Kryptonite?”

Tessa shrugged and with her tattered dress, it reminded Colby of one of the walking dead from the old “Thriller” video. “Just saying. It’s an empirical observation.” She headed over to Kade and slipped her arms around his waist. “But don’t worry, I’m, of course, into blond, blue-eyed zombies.”

Kade kissed the top of her head. “Yeah, you’re kinky like that.”

Colby smirked. Ten seconds, tops. That was how long he’d give it before his friends would have black lipstick all over each other. He turned back to the window to leave them to their own devices and watched as Georgia lined her garden with the pumpkin lights. Her movements were efficient and her posture stiff, like she was performing a duty instead of something she wanted to be doing, which was kind of strange considering no one
needed
to have Halloween decorations. But she seemed determined to get them set up.

He should probably leave her to it. He’d tested the waters with her before only to find them chilly and uninviting. He wasn’t one to chase. If someone wasn’t interested in what he was offering, so be it. Plus, he rarely hooked up with anyone outside The Ranch. The vanilla world really had no place for him. But as he watched Georgia lift her hair off the back of her neck and listened to Kade and Tessa kissing behind him, the pang of want went through him.

What did he have to lose? Unlike a random girl he met somewhere, Georgia
knew
what he was. She might not understand the extent of it, but she’d seen it with her own eyes. He’d seen her curtains twitch and sway on that night he was with Tessa and Kade. And he’d watched those same drapes move late at night when he undressed in his bedroom or when he brought someone home. Either the woman was terrified of him and documenting all of his deviant acts in case he turned out to be a serial killer . . .

Or she was turned on by it.

Tonight, he planned to find out.

It was about time he paid another visit to that isolated island of hers.

—

The fading sunlight felt good on Georgia’s skin. That was what she focused on—the warmth of the late-afternoon rays, the tickle of the fall breeze against her neck, and the smell of the rosemary and thyme growing in her small herb garden.

But only paying attention to those pleasant things took effort. It meant ignoring the prickling of nerves that was an ever-present companion when she was out in the open. She was getting better at handling the anxiety each time, though. That was something. Even on the days she found it more difficult, she forced herself out at least once a day anyway to keep the promise she’d made via Skype to Leesha, her friend and therapist. Baby steps. That was what Georgia was relegated to. But at least they were steps.

Georgia got the string of pumpkin lights all lined up and turned on. She smiled that they were working but quickly realized they only illuminated a bunch of weeds that had popped up since the last time she’d cleaned the garden. Damn. Well, what did she have but time? The kids wouldn’t be coming around for candy for a while still. And even then, she didn’t plan on opening her door. She’d bought a big bowl and made a sign that said Help Yourself to put out on the porch. So she went to work weeding the garden.

She’d never been particularly into yard work before moving to Texas. It was hell on the nails, and she used to care about shit like that. But now it had become an outlet for her—one where she could let her mind wander and relax. Grab and yank, grab and yank. In a way, it was like meditation. And tonight she could use a bit of serenity. It would be a late night of hearing unfamiliar noises outside.

She pulled at a stubborn weed, but it didn’t give. And it was blocking one of her pumpkin lights. That wasn’t going to work. With a huff, she put her other hand at its base and got into a squat to tug harder. The roots didn’t want to release but she was determined to get it out of there, so she gave it one last yank. The weed came free and sent her sprawling backward, a trail of soil arcing through the air. She landed on her ass with an
oof
, and the dirt showered her shirt and jeans.

A shadow enveloped her. “And she’s down for the count.”

Her heart gave a start at the deep voice and the nearness of it. She scrambled, spinning around onto her knees and pulling the canister on her hip in an automatic gesture. But as soon as she had the pepper spray aimed, her subconscious thankfully processed the voice before her systems could go completely haywire. “Colby.”

He had his hands up in a
whoa, there
gesture but didn’t seem overly concerned, as if instinctively knowing she wasn’t going to attack.

“Shit.” She lowered her arm and let out a shaky breath. “Sorry. I—you must think I’m a lunatic.”

He gazed down at her, blocking out the sun, and then put a hand out to her. “No, it’s my fault. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She eyed his hand, reluctant to even go there, but she didn’t want to be rude. She put her hand in his large, warm one and he helped her to her feet. “Thanks.”

He let her hand go immediately, as if aware that the contact made her nervous, and took a step back. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just . . . Halloween makes me jumpy.” The excuse was lamer than most she came up with, but that was all she had at the moment.

He gave her a friendly smile. “I’m not sure pepper spray works on ghouls and ghosts, but it’s never a bad idea to protect yourself. Did you hurt anything on the fall?”

“Only my pride.” She glanced down and brushed the dirt off her ratty clothes. But it just made dark streaks smear over her shirt. Nice. She looked like she’d been rolling in the mud and he looked like . . . wait. She let her gaze travel over him again. He’d pulled a knit cap over his curly dark hair and had let his beard grow a little extra. And though it was cool outside, the red plaid flannel shirt and dark jeans seemed a little out of place for the night. Frankly, the whole rustic woodsman look was kind of working for him—and her—but she couldn’t quite figure out if it was supposed to be a costume.

He must have noticed her perplexed expression because he smirked. “I’m supposed to be Paul Bunyan. If I had my ax or an ox, it’d probably make more sense.”

She bit back a smile. Well, he was a giant of a man—well over six foot and broad—so it sort of made sense. “Right. That’s . . . creative.”

“I lost a bet.”

A laugh escaped, the act feeling foreign in her throat. “Well, I guess it could be worse then. They could’ve made you wear a tutu or something.”

“I don’t know. I think my friend is bringing over a stuffed blue ox for me to carry around, so there’s more humiliation to come,” he said, hooking his thumbs in his jeans and making his shirt stretch across what she knew was a well-honed, to-die-for chest.

She had to press her tongue to the back of her teeth to keep herself from inadvertently licking her lips.
Don’t think about him naked. Don’t think about him naked.

“So anyway, I was coming over to see if you’d like to play witness to that humiliation.”

She blinked and her brain scrambled for a moment. “What?”

He cocked a thumb toward his house. “I’m having some friends over tonight. Nothing major, just pizza, movies, and a little alcohol in between handing out candy. If you’re not doing anything tonight, you should come over.”

She glanced down at the ground, that familiar push and pull yanking at her. The shadow of her old self leapt at the idea of going to a house party and meeting new people, at hanging out with the guy she’d been spying on for over a year now. Before everything happened back in Chicago, she’d never been an introvert. But that was then. She wasn’t stupid enough to think she could handle this. She could already feel the electricity working through her, the nerves priming for fight-or-flight. If she attempted to go over there, she’d make a scene whether she wanted to or not. No. Freaking. Way.

He must’ve thought she was looking down at her clothes. “You don’t need a costume or anything. It’s going to be laid-back.”

Was
laid-back
his way of saying all his friends would end up in bed together? Because she’d seen some of the parties at his house. But she couldn’t imagine that he’d ask her to something like that. He didn’t know her at all. And though she knew he was kinky, she got the sense he kept that side of himself very separate, only exposing it to a trusted circle. He did work at a local high school, after all, and had to maintain a certain image. “That’s really nice of you to ask.”

“So come,” he said simply.

She forced a weak smile. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I need to work tonight. I’m doing online interviews for a virtual assistant and . . . I’m not great with crowds anyway.”

Shit. She hadn’t meant to confess that.

His eyes narrowed as he studied her for a second. If he was trying to figure her out, she wished him luck. Most of the time, she couldn’t figure herself out.

“All right.” He gave a nod and she appreciated that he didn’t push the issue.