An older white Jeep Grand Cherokee was parked in the driveway of Mrs. Dayne’s old house.
Guessed they had to finally be putting the place up for sale. Mrs. Dayne had lived there forever, long before we’d moved in across the street from her five years ago, but the place had been sitting empty for the last two months.
A fist tightened in my gut, grief I really shouldn’t be allowing myself to feel. She’d just been so good to Frankie that it’d been impossible to keep her shut out. Hell, she’d barged right into our lives like she was supposed to be there, constantly bringing over dinner and those delicious pies from the diner-style restaurant she’d owned downtown.
Frankie rushed out the front door and onto the deck at the side of our house.
It was the way all the homes were situated in our neighborhood. The houses were elevated from the ground with the main doors located on the side rather than out front. Each had an open deck that extended out from the side of the house, giving a view of the street and neighbors’ houses. The porch steps angled that direction and led down to the driveways that came up to the far side of the houses.
It probably would have looked strange if not for the big, leafy trees that outlined each of the lots.
They made everything feel cozy and secluded.
Just the way I liked it.
It was one of the main reasons I’d insisted on this place when I’d been looking for a fixer-upper to renovate.
Frankie released my hand and pointed across the street. “Hey, Daddy, look it. Someone’s at Mrs. Dayne’s house!”
Stepping out behind her, I closed the door before I attempted to tame a few pieces of hair that’d fallen from her bun and were now flying around her face in the hot breeze. I dropped a kiss to her forehead. “It’s probably a realtor putting it up for sale, Frankie Leigh. Remember how we talked about that?”
With her head tipped back, she peered at me with confused but hopeful brown eyes. “She wents to heaven?”
“Yeah,” I murmured softly.
The screen door at the side of Mrs. Dayne’s house slammed, and I jerked my head up to find a woman crossing the small deck and jogging down the steps back toward the SUV.
Goddamn.
Maybe I was just caught off guard.
But just looking at her knocked the air from my lungs.
Let’s just say I was unprepared for a woman that looked like that. Guess I’d been expecting someone dressed up. Older. And there was this girl, disheveled in a sexy, careless way. A massive mound of hair that was wilder than Frankie’s was piled haphazardly on her head, wavy pieces falling out all around her. She wore a super tight white tank that disappeared beneath high-waisted jeans.
Those jeans should have made her look frumpy and unkempt, but instead, the whole package sent a skitter of lust racing through my veins and prodding at my dick.
She was the kind of woman who could make a grown man stumble on his feet.
Stunning.
Gorgeous.
Too sexy for her own damned good.
Or maybe mine.
I could call it a complication of abstaining for too long, but I was sure no woman had ever incited a reaction like this in me with just a glance.
She raked her arm over her sweat-drenched forehead as she headed straight for the cargo area of the SUV, which was crammed full of moving boxes. I wouldn’t mind all that much if she were hauling stuff out of that house directly across the street, but it sure as shit looked like she was moving her things in.
Tell me this girl is not moving in next door.
I clenched my jaw and grabbed Frankie’s hand, needing to get the hell out of there.
“Come on, Frankie Leigh, we’ve got to get a move on. You’re already late.”
But Frankie was already moving, bouncing down the stairs and along the walkway, waving her free hand in the air. The kid just adding to the stark sunshine that burned bright in the waning day. “Hi, hi, hi! I’m Frankie. Whose are you?” she shouted across the street.
Startled, the women’s gaze darted our direction, and the determination in her step slowed when she caught sight of my daughter.
An amused smile grew on the rosy bud of her mouth when her gaze swept the ridiculous outfit Frankie was wearing. She seemed to hesitate for a second, eyes glancing around her like she was looking for something before she changed direction, heading our way. “Hey there, Frankie, I’m Corinne Dayne, but everyone calls me Rynna.”
Rynna Dayne.
What the ever-lovin’ hell?
Could damn near feel the bewildered excitement roll through my daughter while I stood there cursing the world that just fucking loved to curse me. “Your name’s C’Rinne, too? That’s Mrs. Dayne’s name. She worked at the restaurant called Pepper’s Pies and cooked all the pies, and my daddy ate them all, all, all the way gone. Sometimes we wents to go eat there, but mostly we ate at my house right here, but now she wents to heaven.”