Starting with June

She walked down the short hall. “Water from the tap is safe to drink. You don’t have to waste money buying bottled water.” She flipped a wrist. “Washer-dryer here. Spare sheets and towels are on the shelf above them. Bathroom there. Bedroom here. I put clean sheets on the bed today. I have a grill on my back patio. You’re welcome to use it. And of course, you saw the pool, but you’ll need to bring your own lawn chair and swim at your own risk. There’s no lifeguard on duty.”

He didn’t even crack a smile. What a grouch. He stepped into the bedroom, being careful to keep a few yards between them, and glanced around.

“The chickens are egg layers,” she added. “You’re welcome to as many as you can eat. The eggs. Not the chickens.” Again, nothing. Man, he was a hard case. “Don’t worry about the skunk in the barn. He’s descented.”

“Skunk?”

Of all she’d said, that was what got his attention? “Yes, he’s the landlord’s pet. Don’t let him out of the cage—no matter how much he begs. Do you need a ride back to your vehicle? I’ll help you unpack it.”

He lifted his bag slightly. “This is it.”

“Not staying long?”

“Do you always ask so many questions?”

“Do you always avoid answering them?”

“Thanks for the tour, June. I won’t keep you from your pool party any longer. Better get back before someone steals your seat.”

So he got her jokes. He just didn’t have a sense of humor. And he was observant. “I’m next door, if you need anything. My cell number’s in the envelope, too. Text or call if you have a question or problem. I’ve lived in Quincey most of my life. If I don’t know the answer, I know where to find it. Also, there are some pretty good hiking trails down near the river. I can show them to you sometime, if you’re interested. Welcome to the neighborhood, Sam.”

She stuck out her hand. He ignored it and jerked a nod instead. She couldn’t help but feel insulted. Good thing her landlord was about to move to a larger, more affluent veterinary practice and didn’t need the rent money from this jerk, because June was hoping Sam Rivers wouldn’t be around for long.

* * *

SAM SET HIS keys on the dresser after a fruitless trip to town. Movement outside the single bedroom window caught his eye. He paused to watch the blonde make her way toward the barn. She’d released her hair from the stubby ponytail and put on clothes.

Too bad.

Negative. He was grateful she’d covered all that golden skin. June might be nice eye candy, but he didn’t need the complication. Slip in. Slip out. Leave no trace or ties. That was his MO in the field and out of it. And nothing would change that.

Jeans skimmed her legs and a red polo shirt clung to the breasts that had been about to spill out of her bikini top. The lace-up boots on her feet were a surprise. Her ruffled bathing suit and sequined flip-flops had led him to believe she was a heels kind of girl...even without pedicured toenails, which his sisters considered a necessity of life.

June hadn’t been the least bit self-conscious playing tour guide in a bikini, but then, she shouldn’t be, with her compact, fit figure. He hadn’t seen any fat on her, just curves. Oh yeah, she had those. In all the right places. And slipping her number into the food basket she wouldn’t let him refuse... He shook his head. He had to hand it to her. She wasn’t shy. But then, women weren’t these days—especially around a military base. Sometimes that was convenient. Now wasn’t one of those times.

Roth must have put her up to it. His buddy probably thought Sam needed the distraction. Why else park him next to a beauty? Thanks to the surgeries and the end of his career, Sam hadn’t been up for any drama of the female variety in months. It had been one hell of a long five months. But his life was a three-ring goat screw at the moment. He had no direction, and he wasn’t dragging anyone else into that mess—even temporarily.

June disappeared into the barn. His neighbor was nothing more than another meddling female, albeit an attractive one with her bright green eyes and blond hair that dusted her shoulders, but the last thing he needed was another nosy woman trying to manage his life. He grimaced at the reminder that he hadn’t informed his family of his status change or relocation. He should, but if he made that call, his parents, three older sisters, their husbands and their entourage of noisy teenage daughters would convoy down from Crossville to offer love, support and advice he didn’t want or need.

Translation: they’d smother him, try to baby him and tell him what to do.

After watching the way his mother and half sisters had worried each time his dad was deployed, Sam had learned to keep his trap shut regarding his location. The less they knew, the less they worried. His family had his and Roth’s cell numbers, in the event of an emergency. That was all they needed. And Roth had his momma’s.

The whole lot of them resided in Tennessee, eight hours from Quincey, the same distance it had been from Quantico. Yet the long drive hadn’t kept his family from ambushing him. After a surgery a few years back, some shavetail Louie had called Sam’s mother instead of Roth, Sam’s primary contact, and the whole extended clan had descended on him like ants on a picnic. While he’d been laid up in the hospital, his sisters had rearranged his tiny apartment, thrown out food and possessions and replaced them with crap he’d never touched except to put it in the Dumpster. They’d grilled all his apartment neighbors to find out who he was dating and how long he’d been seeing them. He’d learned his lesson, and he wasn’t setting himself up for that kind of “help” again.

Sam would show up at his parents’ place when he was ready for company and the females’ tag-team analysis torture. That wouldn’t be anytime soon.

Separation from the corps still ached like a recent amputation. Until he was past the rawness and had an idea of what he was going to do with his future or how he’d get reassigned to a base, he didn’t need a bunch of hens clucking around him and telling him how to live his life. That included his temporary neighbor.

His phone vibrated. The screen indicated a text message from Roth.

Settled in yet?

Affirmative. In my hide, Sam tapped back. Streets rolled up at dusk. Grocery store closed before I could stock up.

Yep. At six on Saturday. Welcome to Quincey. Backwoods, USA. Need anything?

Calling would have been easier than texting, but Roth had insisted no one, not even his wife, know the real reason Sam was here until he reported for duty. Conversations could be overheard, and info was on a need-to-know basis.

Negative. I have rations. Did you send her?

Who?

The blonde.

There was a pause before the next text came through.

June?

Yeah.

No. Why?

She brought food.

Eat whatever she cooks—especially her brownies. She’s famous for those.

Except for extracting the lease, Sam had left the basket untouched on the coffee table. For dinner he’d planned to eat one of the MREs in his bag. Brownies sounded better. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had one. He headed for the living room/kitchen combo.

The cottage wasn’t luxurious by any means, but it was clean, comfortable and a hell of a lot nicer than most of the places he’d slept since enlisting. He kept a rat rack in Q-Town. It was more like a hotel room than an apartment, but it came furnished and made dealing with his stuff during deployments uncomplicated.

Had kept, that is. Everything he owned was packed into his Charger. Turning in the key this morning after keeping the place so long had been...an adjustment.

Did she ask about your job? Roth wrote.

Tried. I didn’t crack.

Good. Word spreads faster than flu in Q, and it’s imperative that no one know you’re investigating my squad.

Affirmative.

What do you think of her?

What did he think? Words tripped through his head. Attractive. Annoying. Aggressive. Available. But he settled for typing, Nosy.

Everyone here is. See you Tuesday 6 a.m. Acclimatize till then.

Roger.

Sam deleted the texts, pocketed his phone, then filled a glass with tap water and returned to the basket. Beneath the red-and-white-checked cloth napkin he discovered neatly stacked resealable plastic containers. He located one neatly labeled Brownies with Walnuts, grabbed it and headed for the front porch with his makeshift dinner. The minute he opened his door a mouthwatering aroma assaulted his taste buds. His stomach grumbled. Trying to ID the scent, he parked his tail in a rocking chair.

A rocking chair, for pity’s sake. Like a geriatric retiree. He pushed that U-G-L-Y visual aside.

Chicken. Someone was grilling chicken. One from the henhouse? His lips twitched when he recalled June’s remark. Blondie had a sense of humor. Blocking out the memory of her sparkling green eyes and the tantalizing smell, he bit into a brownie. The rich chocolaty taste of the moist treat almost made him groan. He shoved the remainder of the square into his mouth and reached for another.

“Do you always eat dessert first?”

He jumped. His neighbor had snuck up on him. Nobody ever got the drop on him. In his line of work—former line of work—that meant death or torture. Preferably the former. He swallowed.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” June stood on the ground beside his porch watching him through the pickets.

“You didn’t.”

Her megawatt smile revealed she knew he’d lied. “If you say so, Rivers. I heard the store closed before you got there.”

Had she spoken to Roth? “How?”

“Lesson one about Quincey. People here know what you’re doing before you do. And they talk about it. Gossip is our local sport and we have the championship team.”

He’d known he was being watched when he’d hiked back to get his car, but he’d hoped to blend in with the weekend antiques hunters wandering the streets. He’d have to work harder at moving under the radar if he was going to do his job well.

She lifted another plastic container the shrubbery had hidden from view. “Here’s half a beer-can chicken, a couple of ears of grilled corn—locally grown—and some garlic-cheddar biscuits.”

His taste buds snapped to attention, but the rest of him balked. He wasn’t stupid. There was only one reason a woman baked and cooked for a man, slipped him her number and offered to show him hiking trails while wearing a bikini that displayed the smorgasbord on offer. The phrase she’d said when they first met echoed in his head. I’ve been waiting for you, she’d said in that throaty voice of hers.

Sam did not need any local honey sticking to his feet and making extraction difficult. The best thing he could do was head her off at the pass. It would save them both a lot of embarrassment later.

“June, I appreciate your generosity, but I’m a no-strings kind of guy. I am not looking for a relationship.”

Her spine snapped as straight as a new recruit’s. Then crimson flagged her cheekbones. “Zip it, Rivers. I’m not trying to get into your britches. I’m only being neighborly and looking out for you the way Madison asked me to. I brought food to get you through until you can get to the store tomorrow afternoon. They don’t open until twelve-thirty on Sundays—after the owner gets out of church. Ditto the diner.”

She shoved the container under the porch rail. “It’s not like I lit candles, slipped into something sexy and invited you over. Eat this or don’t. I could not care less if you starve. But don’t leave my dishes outside. The nocturnal critters will destroy them.

“You’re on your own for breakfast, though. Like I said, there will be eggs in the coop. Get ’em yourself. If you dare. Brittany has a sharp beak and a mean streak. I’ll let you figure out which hen she is.”

Then she pivoted and stalked across the grass toward her rear patio. Chagrinned, Sam mentally smacked his forehead and silently cursed as he watched the angry swing of her departing hips. Infiltrating meant making nice with the locals and blending in—something he’d done hundreds, no, thousands, of times. But he’d struck out on both counts with his new neighbor. Her observations also made him realize that if he wanted to keep his privacy, he’d better shop outside of town.

As for donning something sexy...if June could see the way those jeans hugged her butt, she’d realize she was far off target on that comment.

Worse, he’d forgotten to give her the signed lease. He’d have to face her again tonight...unless he could figure out a way to circumnavigate that land mine.

CHAPTER TWO

JUNE HIT THE punching bag hard enough to rattle her teeth and make her wish she’d put in her mouth guard. Then she gave her leather target a one-two combination. The smacks of solid contact didn’t give her much satisfaction.

She usually took the Sunday shift so the other deputies could go to church with their families. But not today. Today she was wailing the tarnation out of an inanimate object. Because she couldn’t wallop her new neighbor.

Sam had taped the signed lease to her front door last night while she’d been out on her run. He hadn’t even had the decency to give it to her face-to-face. And he’d rumbled down the driveway this morning in his black Charger without visiting the henhouse for eggs. She wouldn’t mind if he never returned. The last thing Quincey needed was another sexist prick.

“Idiot.” Cross. Pow. “Jerk.” Uppercut. Thump. “Coward.”

As the only female deputy on the Quincey PD, not only currently but in the history of the department, she’d had her fill of males who considered her weak or inferior. She had to work doubly hard and be twice as good as her male counterparts to be taken seriously. There were those who claimed she had been hired only because she’d spent a chunk of her childhood at the retired chief’s house playing with his daughter. That might be half-true, but she’d make darn sure Piper’s dad never regretted his decision.

Liver punch. Hook. Elbow stab. Pivot. High kick. Sweat rolled into her eyes. She impatiently swiped it away with her forearm.

“Who rattled your cage?”

June spun around. Piper, the retired chief’s daughter, stood just outside the barn. June lowered her arms. “The new tenant. He’s a chauvinistic ass.”

“He’s here?”

“Moved in yesterday. Drove out at seven this morning.”

“What’d he do? I’ve never seen you so worked up.”

“I prepared a welcome basket and then took him dinner last night. He thought I was making a pass and let me know it was an unwelcome one.” Her skin burned anew with a fresh rush of humiliation.

Piper wrinkled her nose. “He’s not from around here, is he? What does he do?”

“He’s not a local, and I don’t know what he does.”

“Your interrogation skills failed? Because I know you tried.”

Okay, so she asked a lot of questions, but knowing what people were doing was part of her job description. “He wouldn’t say and since your husband ordered me to stay out of the station, I can’t run the guy’s tags or do a background check on him.” Though she had memorized his driver’s license number just in case she got a chance to slip into the office.

“Do you think you should check him out?”

“I’m going to live next to him. None of us lock our doors. And he’s...” She tried to find the words to explain her gut feeling. Sam made her uncomfortable. She didn’t know why. “I don’t know. He has a hard edge and he hides behind wraparound sunglasses all the time—even inside. Something’s not right.”

Piper frowned. “Your instincts aren’t usually wrong. I’ll ask Roth to check him out.”

“Why don’t you just call your dear hubby and tell him to let me go into the office and I’ll do it myself?”

“Roth looked at your file and said that you never use your vacation time. He claims you don’t know how to take one. Which is true, by the way. He’s the one who suggested I invite you to attend church with Josh and me to keep you from trying to sneak into the station.”

June prickled as the comment hit its mark. “I do too know how to relax. I sat by the pool yesterday for thirty-six minutes.”

“Wow. Thirty-six whole minutes. That’s a record. And you timed every wasted second. You have just enough time to shower and change if you want to go with us.”

“Thanks for the invitation, but no. Until I get a feel for this guy, I’m not leaving the property unprotected unless it’s for work. Madison will be returning late tomorrow night, and I don’t want her walking into any surprises.”

“Understandable and commendable. I’m going to miss our lunches with her when she marries Adam and moves to Norcross. Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for her and thrilled she found someone after all she’s been through, but...” She shrugged.

“Yeah. Me, too.” June had known Piper forever. They’d both grown up in Quincey, and when Madison had bought June’s grandfather’s farm and veterinary practice six years ago, the two of them had taken her under their wing. The trio had formed a single-gal alliance of sorts. Now June was the only single one left. An outsider. A fifth wheel. “I hope she’ll call if she needs us for anything.”

“Speaking of people calling when they need something...have you heard from any of your siblings lately? Aren’t they overdue for wanting or needing something?”

June grimaced and tugged off her gloves. Her twin older sisters and two younger brothers were notorious for contacting June only when they wanted something.

“No, I haven’t heard from them, and I don’t know what they could possibly need from me. They already have everything.” Perfect spouses, children, homes and jobs. She was proud of them. But a little envious, too. She couldn’t find Mr. Right with a compass, a map and a bloodhound, and three of her siblings were living the American dream.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe a loan they’ll never repay, a free babysitter or storage space, to name a few. You’ll be strong this time when they call?” Piper asked.

June rolled her eyes. “I will resist the urge to empty my bank account for them if they call, but my nieces and nephews are adorable, and it’s hard to say no when they need something.” Though she wouldn’t spoil her own kids nearly as much—if she ever had any.

“I know you like being needed, but at the rate your siblings spend, they’re going to burn through your inheritance. They’ve already burned through theirs. Am I right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The lecture wasn’t a new one. Unfortunately, it was deserved, so she couldn’t protest. But she felt guilty that her grandfather had made her his primary beneficiary and left her father and his other grandchildren very little. PawPaw claimed it was because he’d given the others more than they deserved while he was alive and only June had asked for nothing. But her brothers and sisters didn’t want to hear that. “You sure you don’t want to join us? The tenant’s out somewhere and your dad’s a decent preacher.”

“I’ve heard Dad’s sermons all my life. We all did. Why do you think all my brothers and sisters moved away? And remember, I’m the black sheep. He’d have to make an example of me if I showed up. I’ve sinned. Big-time.”

“June, you made a mistake. We all make them. But I get your point. And it would probably give him a heart attack if he saw you in one of his pews. I’ll see what I can get out of Roth. In the meantime, if the new tenant does anything shady, don’t hesitate to call it in.”

“If he does, I’ll handle it. I might not be in uniform, but that doesn’t mean I can’t take care of business.”

Because if she called her fellow deputies for help, it would only reinforce their opinions that little Justice Jones didn’t belong on the force.

* * *

SAM DRIED THE last of June’s dishes Sunday afternoon and stuck it in the picnic basket with the others. He had to return them. And apologize. He’d read her wrong and embarrassed her. For the sake of his assignment he had to make nice.

He’d walked or crawled into hostile territory too many times to count. He was not afraid of five and a half feet of angry female, for pity’s sake.

So why was he stalling?

He didn’t have an answer for that.

He grabbed the basket and exited his quarters, heading next door. Except for paint color, externally, the structures appeared identical, but hers, unlike his, looked lived-in. Pots overflowing with flowers cluttered the outside edges of the steps leading to her porch. More flowers spilled from baskets hanging on the railings or from hooks in the eaves, and another bucket of blooms sat on the coffee table between her twin white rocking chairs—chairs bearing thick ruffled posy-print cushions. A water fountain—made from a series of brightly colored tilted ceramic pots—babbled on the far end.

There was so much color it looked as if someone had bombed a paint factory. With all the girly stuff littering the porch, the utilitarian boot scraper at the bottom of the stairs looked out of place. Then he spotted a toy box with a cartoon train painted on it tucked into the back corner, and every cell in his body screeched a warning.

Kids? She had kids? He’d seen and heard no sign of them. Maybe she was divorced and the rug rats were away for the holiday with their father. He’d seen plenty of that in the corps. But where would she put them in the one-bedroom house? More than likely she wasn’t the primary caregiver. But what kind of mom lost custody of her children?

Her front door stood open. A wood-framed screen was the only thing between her and anyone who might enter uninvited into her home. Absolutely no security. Through the mesh he registered that her floor plan was identical to his.

He could see June bustling about the kitchen concocting something with a series of bowls scattered across the countertop. She wore cutoff jeans that showed off her legs and a white T-shirt that molded every curve. Her feet were bare, her hair held behind her ears with a wide black band.

He rapped on the door. June startled, turning. “C’mon i-n.”

The last word fractured into two syllables when she saw him, and her smile melted. “What do you want?”

“I’m returning your stuff.” He swung the picnic basket into view.

Wiping her hands on a towel, she made her way across the room. “You could have left it with the lease.”

He ignored the jab. Not one of his finest moves to drop the paper and take cover. “I would have, but you said not to leave your dishes outside.”

She unlatched a hook inside, making her smarter than he’d thought, and pushed the screen open just enough to take the basket. “That’s hardly any security, June. Anybody who wanted access could cut through the screen and be inside in seconds.”

Her tight smile and the glint in her eyes took him aback. “That would be a mistake.”

“What would you do about it?”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Overconfidence can get you hurt. If you’re not worried about yourself, at least think of your children.”

Confusion clouded her eyes. “Children? I don’t have children.”

He nodded toward the toy box. “Whose are those?”

Her face softened with what could only be love and...was that yearning? “My nieces and nephews. I babysit as often as I can. Don’t worry—I’ll keep them away from you.”

She reached for the basket and pulled the handle. He held on. He didn’t know why he was so determined to make her see sense. Probably because he’d worry about his sisters if they were in a remote place like this. “The owner of the farmhouse is away. You’re a half mile from your nearest neighbor. Who would hear you if you screamed for help?”

Her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “Who says I’d scream or that I’d need help?”