Page 204 of My Temptation (Kingston Lane)

“It’s just such a waste . . .”

“Too bad.” My smile does break free this time. “The shop is closed.”

“What about a fifteen-minute window? It would be record speed.”

No kidding.

“No.” I push him out my front door, and he turns around to face me.

“Happy milking.” I smile sweetly as I close the door in his face.

Dick.

Things are getting better. I’ve been going out with the girls, I got a new hairdo, and today, Joel is coming over. I’ve saved some more money and am finally getting back to decorating my house.

The entire house is painted internally now, and it’s time to look at outside colors and themes. I’m still enjoying it here, but I’m not sure if it’s my forever home.

I mean, it’s great and all, and maybe one day when my brain finally lets me forget the man next door, I will fall in love with the street again.

The car pulls up, and I peer through the curtains. That’s Joel here now.

I smile and open the door as I wait for him. He gets all his swatches and carries a big box inside. “Hey, stranger.” He smiles as he walks past me into the house. He stops and pecks me on the cheek. “You look gorgeous. I’ve missed seeing you.”

Oh . . .

“Hi, come in.”

Henley

I sip my beer, unimpressed, and stare over at her house. That fucking idiot Joel has been at Juliet’s for over two hours.

“I don’t know if they are going to win,” Blake says casually as he lies back on my couch watching the game. “If I lose this bet over these fuckers . . .”

I stand at the window, peering through the curtains, my eyes still glued over the fence.

My temper hangs on by a thread. “Shut the fuck up about your bet and just watch the game.” I drag my hands through my hair.

“What’s so interesting out the window?” he asks.

“Nothing.”

“What is this . . . the third or fourth time the interior designer has been over to her house this week?”

I roll my lips, infuriated.

Fifth.

“Who knows and who cares,” I lie.

I’ve been baiting her with all my might, and not even a nibble. I’ve fucked this up well and good.

“She’s practically in love with him already,” Blake says casually.

“Shut up.” I begin to pace back and forth. It’s all I seem to do lately. “I don’t give a damn what she does.”

“Sure you don’t.”

If she falls for him . . . I swear to fucking god . . .

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