Starting with June. Emilie Rose

stood where she’d left him and extended a hand as she approached. She hooked the basket handle over his palm. “I’ve baked you a few things to tide you over until you can get to the store.”

      He shoved the basket back in her direction. “Thanks, but I only need the key.”

      Wasn’t he charming? She left the hamper hanging and passed him, heading for his front door. A huge duffel bag sat on the porch. How had she missed his arrival? And how long had he been skulking around before the chickens had alerted her? She scanned the driveway.

      “No car?”

      “In town. I hiked in.”

      Strange. Maybe he was a health nut—he was definitely built like one. “I’ll show you around the house.”

      “The building’s only twenty by forty. I’m sure I can find my way.”

      Mr. Personality he was not. “No doubt. You won’t even need to leave a trail of breadcrumbs.”

      No smile. “There’s only one exit. Isn’t that a fire code violation?”

      That hitched her step. Interesting observation. “Not around here. But if you’re worried, you can always escape through the bedroom window. It’s not painted shut, and with the weather we’ve been having, you’ll probably want to leave it open at night to catch the breeze anyway.”

      She climbed the stairs, inserted the key, gave it its customary jiggle and opened the door. Shoving her sunglasses on top of her head, she entered the cottage. “Most folks around here don’t bother locking their doors. The citizens of Quincey are good people.”

      She’d locked this door only so he’d have to check in and sign the lease before moving in.

      After grabbing his duffel, he followed her, saying nothing. He kept his sunglasses on. Too bad. She’d like to see those blue eyes. It was easier to judge a man’s character that way. He carried her basket as if it held fresh manure, but she wouldn’t let his poor manners get to her.

      “As you can see, the place is fully furnished. Sofa, chairs, TV, but no cable. Madison, our landlord, provides wireless internet. The password is written on a card in the basket, along with a listing for local TV stations, fire and police departments’ numbers, a trustworthy auto mechanic, etc. Your copy of the lease agreement’s also in that envelope. I’ll give you time to read over it before you sign, but I’ll need it back this evening.

      “Water, electricity and internet are included in your rental fee. If you want satellite, you’ll have to pay for it and have it installed yourself. There are plates, utensils, and pots and pans in the kitchen, but there isn’t any bakeware. If you need that, I have some you can borrow.”

      “I won’t.”

      She suspected his good looks had contributed to his lack of personality. At least, that was how it had worked with her siblings. The better-looking their dates, the worse their dispositions. And Sam Rivers was definitely top-notch in the looks department, from his short, spiky hair to his stubble-covered square chin and fitness magazine–cover body.

      She walked down the short hall. “Water from the tap is safe to drink. You don’t have to waste money buying bottled water.” She flipped a wrist. “Washer-dryer here. Spare sheets and towels are on the shelf above them. Bathroom there. Bedroom here. I put clean sheets on the bed today. I have a grill on my back patio. You’re welcome to use it. And of course, you saw the pool, but you’ll need to bring your own lawn chair and swim at your own risk. There’s no lifeguard on duty.”

      He didn’t even crack a smile. What a grouch. He stepped into the bedroom, being careful to keep a few yards between them, and glanced around.

      “The chickens are egg layers,” she added. “You’re welcome to as many as you can eat. The eggs. Not the chickens.” Again, nothing. Man, he was a hard case. “Don’t worry about the skunk in the barn. He’s descented.”

      “Skunk?”

      Of all she’d said, that was what got his attention? “Yes, he’s the landlord’s pet. Don’t let him out of the cage—no matter how much he begs. Do you need a ride back to your vehicle? I’ll help you unpack it.”

      He lifted his bag slightly. “This is it.”

      “Not staying long?”

      “Do you always ask so many questions?”

      “Do you always avoid answering them?”

      “Thanks for the tour, June. I won’t keep you from your pool party any longer. Better get back before someone steals your seat.”

      So he got her jokes. He just didn’t have a sense of humor. And he was observant. “I’m next door, if you need anything. My cell number’s in the envelope, too. Text or call if you have a question or problem. I’ve lived in Quincey most of my life. If I don’t know the answer, I know where to find it. Also, there are some pretty good hiking trails down near the river. I can show them to you sometime, if you’re interested. Welcome to the neighborhood, Sam.”

      She stuck out her hand. He ignored it and jerked a nod instead. She couldn’t help but feel insulted. Good thing her landlord was about to move to a larger, more affluent veterinary practice and didn’t need the rent money from this jerk, because June was hoping Sam Rivers wouldn’t be around for long.

      * * *

      SAM SET HIS keys on the dresser after a fruitless trip to town. Movement outside the single bedroom window caught his eye. He paused to watch the blonde make her way toward the barn. She’d released her hair from the stubby ponytail and put on clothes.

       Too bad.

      Negative. He was grateful she’d covered all that golden skin. June might be nice eye candy, but he didn’t need the complication. Slip in. Slip out. Leave no trace or ties. That was his MO in the field and out of it. And nothing would change that.

      Jeans skimmed her legs and a red polo shirt clung to the breasts that had been about to spill out of her bikini top. The lace-up boots on her feet were a surprise. Her ruffled bathing suit and sequined flip-flops had led him to believe she was a heels kind of girl...even without pedicured toenails, which his sisters considered a necessity of life.

      June hadn’t been the least bit self-conscious playing tour guide in a bikini, but then, she shouldn’t be, with her compact, fit figure. He hadn’t seen any fat on her, just curves. Oh yeah, she had those. In all the right places. And slipping her number into the food basket she wouldn’t let him refuse... He shook his head. He had to hand it to her. She wasn’t shy. But then, women weren’t these days—especially around a military base. Sometimes that was convenient. Now wasn’t one of those times.

      Roth must have put her up to it. His buddy probably thought Sam needed the distraction. Why else park him next to a beauty? Thanks to the surgeries and the end of his career, Sam hadn’t been up for any drama of the female variety in months. It had been one hell of a long five months. But his life was a three-ring goat screw at the moment. He had no direction, and he wasn’t dragging anyone else into that mess—even temporarily.

      June disappeared into the barn. His neighbor was nothing more than another meddling female, albeit an attractive one with her bright green eyes and blond hair that dusted her shoulders, but the last thing he needed was another nosy woman trying to manage his life. He grimaced at the reminder that he hadn’t informed his family of his status change or relocation. He should, but if he made that call, his parents, three older sisters, their husbands and their entourage of noisy teenage daughters would convoy down from Crossville to offer love, support and advice he didn’t want or need.

      Translation: they’d smother him, try to baby him and tell him what to do.

      After watching the way his mother and half sisters had worried each time his dad was deployed, Sam had learned to keep his trap shut regarding his location. The less they knew, the less they worried. His family had his and Roth’s cell numbers, in the event of