The Sweetest Gift. Jillian Hart

I see.” Of course that’s why he was here. Why he was laying on the charm. He wanted something. “Let me guess. You need to use my phone to make a long-distance emergency call.”

      “Nope, but are you offering? I could think of someone to call long distance.”

      “No.”

      What was he doing? Sam Gardner knew better than to tease a pretty young woman, especially one so seemingly good and innocent, because he’d learned from experience. No good could come from it. Hugging a nestful of rattlers would be less hazardous.

      That’s why he did it. He saw the way she’d looked him up and down as potential marriage material. Single women of a certain age had that common habit, and he had to make it clear. He was not a candidate for holy matrimony. The question was, did she get the hint?

      Her bow-shaped mouth drew down. Oh, yeah, she was expecting the worst from him.

      “You want me to fix you a sandwich? Run to the hardware store for you? Lend you money? My grandmother warned me about men like you.”

      “Good guys, you mean?”

      Her delicate brows arched above her perfect, blue-sky eyes. He’d managed to offend her pretty well.

      Good. Mission complete.

      “No, men who try to offend women on purpose.”

      Ooh…busted. He’d have to watch this one. She was smarter than she looked. “You can’t blame a guy for trying to make a memorable impression.”

      “Memorable? You would have been better off wearing a ski mask and asking for all my money. I’d be more relaxed around you.”

      “I had you believing that for a few minutes. C’mon, I saw that look on your face when you dashed for the door.”

      “I did not dash.”

      “You were ready to.”

      “Maybe, but you do look like a man who can’t be trusted.” She lit up as she said that. And she may as well have plastered “single and looking” on her forehead in neon-red ink.

      He hadn’t been promoted as fast as he had in the armed forces without being dead-on when it came to reading people and knowing what they were capable of. And pretty blond women of a certain age without a diamond on their left ring finger wanted only one thing.

      Yep, he’d be wary of her. Friendly, but wary.

      “So, are you gonna help me out or not?”

      “I’ll take it under consideration.”

      While she thought about it, she took a sip of her coffee—he could smell the chocolate and caffeine from four paces away. That frilly drink probably had extra whipped cream and those chocolate candy sprinkle things, too.

      She eyed him over the top of the pastel-pink straws she was daintily sipping from. Was she still trying to figure out if he was suitable marriage material? Or had he convinced her that he wasn’t?

      “I can’t believe you conned Mrs. Gardner into hiring you. She isn’t paying you to stand on my walkway talking to me.”

      “She’s not paying me. I’m fixing her house out of the kindness of my own good heart.”

      “Excuse me, but you don’t look the type.”

      “Appearances can be deceiving.”

      “Let me get this straight. You’re fixing the plumbing next door for free?”

      “Hey, don’t look so surprised. I know I don’t look like those GQ kind of men or the suit-and-tie-wearing office types who say please and thank you. I don’t have ‘feelings.’ But I’m not a jerk out to profit off an old lady on a fixed income. I’m Ruth’s nephew.”

      Kirby’s rosebud mouth dropped open in surprise. “Her nephew? You?”

      “That’s an affirmative.”

      She stared at him. “Ruth Gardner is petite and blond, and you look like James Bond gone bad. Are you sure you’re related to her?”

      James Bond, huh? He liked that. “Yep. She married my dad’s brother. He passed last year. I came for the funeral, and realized how alone Ruth was. No children of her own, and so she’d always done her best to spoil me when I was growing up. I figured I might move here and keep an eye on her. She’s the only family I’ve got.”

      Kirby’s blue eyes warmed a notch as she studied him again. This time with a much higher regard. “Ruth belongs to my church. She’s a very nice lady. I’m sure she’s relieved you’re helping her out with this house. She had nothing but problems with the last renters.”

      “Yep, but I came and evicted them. No more problems.”

      “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that. You’ll find a nice quiet couple or a young family, maybe. Responsible people to rent, right?”

      There she went, being too friendly again. He’d gone too far. He didn’t think of himself as a man with natural charm. In fact, he tried to scare away marriage-seeking women on purpose. Looked as if he’d better try harder.

      “So, what about that favor? I had to shut off the water to the house. Trouble is, I need to flush a pipe, and I can’t turn on the main valve. Would you let me use your garden hose for about five minutes?”

      “Five minutes, not six?”

      “How about five and a half?”

      “Deal. The hose is in the back. Just go through the side gate.” Soft humor sparkled in those pretty blue eyes of hers.

      Not that he was dazzled in the least by her pretty blue eyes. He was a disciplined man, and he knew enough about women to know he’d better stop noticing how lovely she was. The girl-next-door type was always the same. Always. He ought to know, since he’d married one, and what a disaster that had been.

      Don’t think about it, man. Sam forced the memories away even before they could bounce off the titanium shield around his heart. He was well protected. Self-controlled. He wasn’t going to think that because Kirby was nice, she would be any different down deep when times got tough. Because she wouldn’t be.

      Keep your distance, Gardner. That would be the wisest course. He hadn’t survived some of the toughest battles in recent military history only to let another woman take him down. He knew how to get out of disasters alive and when to avoid them entirely.

      He knew exactly how love could break a man, and what a nice, sweet-looking woman could do to his soul.

      He was here for a reason, nothing more. “Is the gate locked?”

      “No.” She flicked a golden strand of hair behind her slim shoulder, her brows furrowed beneath her wispy, windblown bangs, as if she were trying to look deep inside him.

      Good luck. He didn’t let anyone close, most of all a lovely woman like her with a heart-shaped face, a creamy clear complexion and a few freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose. Freckles she tried to hide with a light coat of makeup. Not that he was noticing. He wasn’t. Really.

      Her lips were bare of lipstick or of that shiny-looking stuff women wore on those makeup commercials. Her mouth was softly shaped and kind, as if she smiled. A lot.

      Yep, she was sure going to be trouble. Trouble because he liked her on sight. And hated that he did. “There’s a few boards missing off the top of the fence I need to fix, but I’m gonna need access to your yard to do it. Do you mind?”

      “No, but that’s half of my fence, too, and I should pay you.”

      “Seeing as you’re willing to compensate me, I’d sure appreciate a tall glass of iced tea.”

      “Fine. Iced tea it is. But only half a glass up front,” she called over her shoulder as she unlocked her front door. “You’ll