Page 26 of The Enemy Face Off

Beth stops hanging a shirt on the clothesline and spins on her heel, freezing when she sees me—apart from her eyebrows, which shoot up high to her forehead. Even in simple, striped black-and-white joggers and a black long-sleeved shirt, she looks amazing.

"What are you doing here?" She drops the clothespins into the basket and moves toward me. "Are you stalking me?"

"You got me. Good thing I chose pro hockey over a career in the secret service."

"Well, then, what are you doing here?" she repeats, folding her arms over her chest as I try to gauge what mood she's in.

Playful or peeved off?

It's a fine line, and one I haven't mastered reading yet.

I cross my fingers and hope she's up for some verbal sparring.

We haven't seen each other since the night of Fraser's party, which was way too long ago. I'd been hoping to use our little fender bender as an excuse to reach out to her, but the insurance companies have been annoyingly efficient, so I haven't had a reason to contact her about anything.

"Looks like we're not only friends…ish, but now also"—I raise both hands and curl my index and middle fingers as I say, "'neighbors…ish.'"

She walks right up to the fence line and hooks her fingers along the top of it. "Don't ever say that again, with or without air quotes. In fact, don't use air quotes at all."

Her words have bite, but the small grin she's trying to suppress gives her away.

Looks like we're in for another round of sparring.

Giddyup!

"Seriously, though…" She aims those multicolored eyes straight at me, and a slow-warming heat spreads throughout my entire body. "You're not actually thinking about buying this place, are you?"

"I am."

"Why?"

"It's got great bones. Decent-size block. It's in a good school district."

"All houses in Comfort Bay are in the same school district."

I lock eyes with her. "And I've always wanted to live on acul de sac."

Color rises on her cheeks. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Live what down?" I reply innocently.

She shakes her head, her black strands moving from side to side. "You're good. I'll give you that."

I shrug. Then smirk. "Yeah, I know."

"And arrogant."

"Not arrogant." Our eyes meet again, and the heat pulsing through me kicks up a few levels. "I just know where my talents lie."

She takes a breath then backs away from the fence. "Well, I don't think real estate is one of them. Why aren't you buying one of the mansions on the hill overlooking the water?"

My smirk grows. "I love it when you're completely wrong."

She zooms back up to the fence, our faces inches apart. "What am I wrong about?"

I don't move back as I answer, "You're wrong about thinking I'd want to live in a place like that. That's not me, Beth. I'm not flashy. I don't need a massive house with ten garages. Or fancy cars. Or any of that superficial, stereotypical rich-person stuff." I lower my voice and lean in closer to her. "I came from nothing. I have no one to rely on in this world except for myself. I'm actually quite careful with how I spend my money."

Too much information? Yeah, definitely. Why the heck did I just blurt all that out?

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