The Sweetest Gift. Jillian Hart

that the standard business practice? When I had my new roof put on, it was half payment up front. The rest on completion of a satisfactory job.”

      He laughed. He couldn’t help it. “Lady, that’s no way to treat your new neighbor.”

      Chapter Two

      Neighbor? Kirby whirled around. This couldn’t be true.

      “Yep. Surprised you, did I? You didn’t think I’d be your new next-door neighbor. Your new next-door nightmare.”

      The keys tumbled from her fingers and hit the front step with a terrible, final clink as if to say, “Disaster.”

      She rescued her keys from the ground, heart pounding and her mind spinning. No, she couldn’t have heard him right. There was no possible way. Ruth had made promises. Ruth was a trustworthy, dependable Christian woman. Ruth wouldn’t have lied or broken her word. Next time I’ll find a decent, quiet, responsible neighbor, she’d said.

      This man looked anything but quiet and responsible. He looked as if a squad of Special Forces commandos might come by at any moment and recruit him.

      “You’re kidding, right?”

      “Nope. I bought furniture this morning. It’s gonna be delivered tomorrow between ten and noon.” He wedged his hands in his jeans pockets, widening his stance. His chest was impressively broad and strong looking.

      Not that she should be noticing. “You can’t be my new neighbor. I mean, the house isn’t even up for rent yet. I know, because I just talked to Ruth yesterday.”

      “You didn’t speak with her today, did you? Or you’d have all the latest details.”

      Doom. Kirby could feel a dark cloud settle around her like midnight fog.

      What had Mrs. Gardner promised? That’s a mistake I won’t repeat again, dear—you have my word on that. No more bachelors in my rental house. I know there are discrimination laws, but those single men can sure be trouble….

      Sam Gardner looked like a single man to her, nephew or not, since no wedding ring marked the fourth finger of his left hand.

      Or was he the kind of married man who didn’t wear a ring? That was even worse!

      He paced closer. “You suddenly don’t look very happy. You don’t approve?”

      “I’m wary because I’ve had my fair share of neighbor disasters.”

      “Like fires?”

      “Not fires. Weekend parties and night-long drum practice sessions in the garage.” Which she hadn’t been able to sleep through.

      Please, at least let him be married. Stable. Did she dare hope that he was very busy being a plumber during the day so he had to sleep at night? “Will you be inviting over large numbers of people and playing heavy metal music extremely loud after midnight?”

      “Probably. The good news is that I won’t be living alone for much longer. My rock-band buddies will be moving in shortly.” One dark brow quirked. “Is that what you mean by neighbor disasters?”

      She saw the next six months of peaceful nights’ sleeping vanish before her eyes. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”

      Catastrophe. There was no other word for it. And this was Mrs. Gardner’s relative. There was no way she’d evict her own nephew.

      “I throw wild parties at least three times a week. That’s why I got booted out from my last five apartments.” He winked at her. “Did that answer your question?”

      He was teasing her. Great. She’d been praying for a nice responsible Christian man for a neighbor and what did she get? A comedian. He’d been teasing her all along.

      She didn’t want to like him. The only reason a handsome man like him paid any attention to a girl like her was that they wanted something. Wasn’t that the way it was? She was ordinary looking, nothing special, and that was okay, because it just showed this man was not her Mr. Right.

      Her true love would see past her plainness and see her. And he’d love her, shortcomings and failures and strengths. That’s the way love should be.

      She unlocked her second lock as her little dog barked through the wooden door. “Oh, about the hose. Please don’t forget to coil it up when you’re through.”

      “I’ll leave it the way I found it. Don’t worry. I might be loud and inconsiderate when I’m playing my drums all night, but I’m careful with garden hoses.”

      Why was she laughing? She shouldn’t be encouraging him. She snatched her mail from the slim black box next to the front door. She wasn’t even going to look at the bills that had come. She had bigger problems. Her new neighbor. So he wasn’t what she’d prayed for. He wasn’t going to be a problem, right?

      Maybe she wasn’t seeing the whole picture. Maybe he’d taken off his wedding ring when he worked so he wouldn’t catch it on a pipe or something. That meant there was a chance he could be married and responsible.

      He didn’t look responsible, but still, a girl had to have hope. “Will your wife be joining you?”

      “No, no wife. No woman can put up with all the groupies from my band.”

      “I can’t believe Mrs. Gardner is letting a man like you stay in her house.”

      “There’s this nondiscrimination law. She had to let me in or I threatened to sue.” Dimples cut into his cheeks as he tunneled his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, standing strong and at ease, like a man always in charge. “Don’t worry, I’ll be a good neighbor. I won’t throw parties and don’t play loud music. I’m usually working.”

      “Working.” She should have guessed it by the hard, lean look of him. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those workaholic types.”

      “Yes, but it’s not my fault. It’s genetic. I tried a support group for a while, but it cut into my work time.”

      “I suppose it’s a competitive, stressful calling, being a plumber. Nighttime leaking pipes, early-morning bathtub backups and emergency pipe unclogging.”

      “Are you mocking me?” That seemed to make those troublesome glints in his eyes shine more brightly. “Sure, go ahead and make me angry. I may have to go let off steam. Did I mention I play drums? Yep. I plan to set up in the garage. Will that bother you at night?”

      He flashed her a grin before padding soundlessly away. He moved like a well-trained athlete, like a man comfortable with his power. Not married, huh?

      She was a woman. She couldn’t help noticing the wide, capable cut of his shoulders beneath the plain gray T-shirt. Or his long legs encased in denim as he disappeared around the corner of her house.

      Not that she was interested. She wanted a nice Christian man. He looked like anything but.

      “Best get the tea steeping, because I’m a fast worker,” he called from the side yard, out of sight.

      The side gate of the fence squealed open and then snapped shut.

      He might not be Mr. Right, but he was funny. Heroes in the movies weren’t this good-looking.

      Her dog started barking an enthusiastic greeting through the door. Kirby banned all thoughts of Sam Gardner from her head and turned the old brass knob.

      The instant she opened the door, the little spaniel leaped at her knees, panting happily. Kirby knelt to hug the wiggling creature. There was nothing like being welcomed home. And until she had a family of her own, she was blessed with this little animal that was always so glad to see her.

      “C’mon, Jessie. Let’s get you outside.” Kirby’s problems felt far away as she set down her purse and followed her best friend through the house. The