Page 4 of Desiring My Brother's Best Friend

Owen coughs, briefly choking on the lemonade he's taking before laughing. "Guess you're going to need to call your brother, like it or not."

Is this guy really not picking up on a single hint I'm putting down? Or is he being purposefully obtuse? I know there's a chance that Owen simply isn't into me, but I would have sworn I caught him looking at me here and there over the years. He's always been sweet and polite, but sweet and polite isn't what I'm looking for from him now.

"Maybe," I hedge, disappointed that my flirtatiousness isn't getting me anywhere.

After lunch, Owen goes upstairs one more time to make a list of what he thinks he'll need and snap a few pictures, but before I can come up with a reason to get him to hang around, he heads out to his work truck and leaves. As I watch it disappear down the road, I'm struck by a wave of annoyance. What did I do wrong? Is he really that concerned about pissing off my brother that he won't make a move even when I'm being pretty damn clear about what I want?

Or, maybe Owen is simply a man, and the signals I'm putting out just aren't clear enough. Tomorrow, I'll have to kick it into high gear. That thought makes me feel a little better. It gives me a plan and hope for tomorrow.

With a little more pep in my step, I decide to unload a few more boxes from the moving truck. I've been taking my time unpacking before moving more inside so I don't get too frazzled. I borrowed the truck from a friend of a friend in exchange for a photoshoot so I'm not in any rush, and it's been a great deal for me so far.

As I go to the back of the truck, my eyes catch on something. A man is walking across the street towards my house. His shoulders are hunched, and his head is down. I can't make out his face, but I don't recognize him as any of the few neighbors I've met so far.

"Hello?" I call.

The man stops and looks up. When he sees me, a huge smile splits his face. "Good afternoon!"

I watch as he jogs across the street and stops at my gate. He's middle-aged, with salt-and-pepper hair and a round belly. His cheeks are pink and ruddy, like he's been outside too long in the summer sun.

I open the gate and step through. "Hi. Can I help you with something?"

"Actually, I was wondering if I could help you," the man says. "I saw you were moving in, and I thought you might need some assistance."

Hm. I could use the help, but as a sensible woman, I know better than to accept help from male strangers, especially when we'd be all alone in my house."Oh, uh. Thank you, but I'm okay for now."

He doesn't move. "Are you sure? Because I have some free time. I could lend a hand or a tool." His grin widens.

Okay, now this guy is starting to creep me out. I glance down the street, praying to see Owen's truck, but it's nowhere in sight.

"I think I'm okay." I close the gate. "But maybe next time, Mr...?"

"Grayson. But you can call me Thomas." He steps closer, and I take an instinctive step back. "If you ever need anything at all, you let me know. I'm just at the blue house three doors down. I'd be happy to help."

"Will do," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

As I turn and walk toward the front porch, my skin crawls from Thomas' intense gaze. It's like he can see right through me. I can feel his eyes on me even after I'm inside, and I shiver involuntarily.

That was weird. And a little unsettling. But I'm sure he meant well. After all, I'm new here. Maybe he was just trying to be friendly.

I shake off the encounter and get back to unpacking. I need to cultivate the perfect plan to seduce Owen tomorrow, and no creepy neighbor is going to distract me from that.

2

OWEN

I'm not one to pass up a paycheck, and most carpenters would be thrilled to get paid extra to work with someone they've known for over a decade. It should be even better, considering Lena Carter and I have always gotten along, and she's pretty incredible to look at, too.

The problem is, she's too attractive. Too alluring. And she's my best friend's little sister, which means she's totally off-limits.

It was easy to tell her yes and believe that I was in control of myself over the phone, but as soon as I got to her house and saw her in person, I immediately regretted my decision.

The thing is, this is Lena's first real home. She lived with her parents and then in an apartment with a roommate. She's never really been on her own before. Even though I know she can handle it, I'm concerned about her safety, and I worry she'll get taken advantage of and overcharged if I don't do the work for her. That's the only reason I'm spending so much time here.

Right?

Yeah. That's why I've spent the last few days at her place instead of working on other jobs. There's no other reason for it. It doesn't matter that she looks like an angel or that she smells like strawberries and cream. It definitely doesn't matter that she's grown into a bombshell—dark brown hair curling over her shoulders, blue eyes with thick, black lashes, the softest-looking lips I've ever seen, and curves that could kill a man.

None of those things matter to me. Nope. Not at all.

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