Don't Tempt Me. Lori Foster
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all along, but now, on top of that motivation, she desperately wanted to prove Jason wrong.
Unaware of Honor’s inner turmoil, Lexie said, “Well, you could just ask for his help. I’m sure there’s something around the house that he could assist with. Maybe something in the—” fake cough “—bedroom?”
“You’re impossible. Stop trying to be my pimp.”
“Pimps get paid. I just want to see you glow.”
A crack of lightning made Honor jump. She had to admit that Jason’s warnings had her spooked. For most of her life she’d been an insomniac, but after him predicting doom and gloom and making it sound like she was a sitting duck to all sorts of despicable crimes, she could barely doze. There were a lot of unfamiliar sounds in her house and even though she’d reinforced every entry, she still went on high alert every time she heard a squeak.
“You didn’t hang up on me, did you?”
“Nope.” Honor climbed down off her stepladder and set the brush across the top of the can. “But you already know I don’t want to ask for his help.” Jason thought she was trouble, assumed she’d fail and expected her to somehow cause problems.
“C’mon, honey. Think about how much quicker you’d get things done.”
She’d also prove Jason right, that she couldn’t handle it on her own. No, thank you. “I’m happy doing it all myself.”
Lexie blew out a breath. “That’s a shame, because I was planning to visit tomorrow and lend a hand, as I’d promised. I’d have been there sooner, but we were restocking this week.”
“I don’t want to work you, but you know you’re more than welcome to visit.” Luckily Lexie lived and worked only half an hour away, in the downtown area. The salon where Honor worked was in the opposite direction, but not very far at all. “I wouldn’t mind chatting with you while I get things done.” Lexie was the ray of sunshine in her otherwise dull world.
“I promise to actually assist. What time will you get home?”
For too many years now, Lexie had been fighting her way around Honor’s barriers. She knew from experience that it did her no good to resist.
Smiling, Honor said, “Around six—” and then her phone beeped. When she glanced at the screen, dread went through her bloodstream. “Shoot, I have to go. That’s the facility.”
“Of course it is,” Lexie groused. “Don’t let them wear you out. I’ll see you tomorrow at six-fifteen.”
Honor switched over the call, and while she listened she headed to her bedroom to change. She already knew what the call meant, what she’d have to do.
Looked like she’d be making a trip out in the downpour. The painting would have to wait. It’s only paint, she reminded herself.
But it felt like so much more.
It felt like...her future.
* * *
Her curtains did nothing more than tease. Jason stood at the window, watching the storm. Or at least he had been. But as soon as Honor’s bedroom light came on, his gaze shifted from the dark sky to her shadowy form...undressing.
The woman kept the strangest damn hours, heading out for work in the early morning, coming home after six, then regularly leaving again, sometimes in the middle of the night. On the quiet street he often heard her car door open and close. Other than those times, with the storms keeping everyone inside, he hadn’t seen her.
Would her roof leak? Were the windows sealed? His gaze shifted to one of the big trees in her backyard. The wind pulled at dead branches that could do a lot of damage if they landed wrong.
So much for her to do, and yet it seemed she was never home long enough to get to any of it.
“Spying again?”
Jason didn’t bother to turn to Hogan. “It’s really coming down.”
“Right. Never knew the rain fascinated you so much.”
“The creek might flood.” He glanced at his brother, took in his clothes and knew the answer even before he asked. “Going out?”
Hogan rolled one shoulder. “Yeah.”
Running. Always running. From one meaningless date to the next. Jason understood, at least to a degree. The past year had been hard on his brother.
But damn it, it had been hard on Colt, too.
He didn’t want to judge, but right now it seemed Hogan had his head up his ass and was blind to everything except his own damaged ego. A million dates with easy conquests wouldn’t fix anything. But how did he tell Hogan that?
He couldn’t. Not yet anyway. So instead he concentrated on other, more tangible and less emotional issues. “How’d the interview go?”
“Same as the others. I’m fucked.”
It was an awkward thing, being in the position of advising his older brother. For so many years Hogan had been the settled one. Gorgeous wife, check. Awesome son, check. Nice house, nice bank account and respectable job with benefits, check.
But over the last year, everything had changed and there were times Jason wondered if they’d ever get back to normal. He’d never been in love, never had a son and never lost his livelihood, so he couldn’t pretend to know how Hogan felt.
But he loved his nephew and he knew, eventually, Hogan would have to get his priorities straight. He was a good dad, always. But lately he’d been far too absent, physically and emotionally.
Running a hand over the back of his head, Jason said, “The bankruptcy?”
Disgusted, Hogan curled his lip. “Who wants to hire an accountant who was unable to manage his own finances?”
A definite problem. “Did you explain?”
That made him laugh. “Right. What would I say? That I didn’t know my wife was boning two different guys while going through our money like water through a sieve? That elevates me from a bad accountant to a total moron.”
Jason blew out a breath. Tough to go from six figures with elite and exclusive clients to unemployed without prospects. “Something will turn up.”
“Maybe.” Pulling on a wind breaker and turning up the collar, Hogan said, “If the night goes well, I’ll be home in the morning.”
“That’s what you want me to tell Colt when he asks?”
Without meeting his gaze, Hogan said, “He won’t ask.”
No, Jason thought, watching Hogan dart out into the rain. Colt already knew his dad cared more about chasing tail than manning up and facing the reality of their situation.
But Jason wished like hell it was different.
Needing a new focus, he returned to the window. Earlier, Honor had been painting. Two at a time she’d carried in cans of paint from her car, getting soaked in the process. At this rate, the whole house probably had a fresh coat. He wondered at her color choices. Was she a bold primary kind of girl, or soft pastels? A continuous color like this house, or a rainbow of hues, each room different?
He’d bet on the rainbow.
A few minutes later when Honor’s front door opened, Hogan was already gone. Propping a shoulder on the window frame, Jason watched her as she stepped out, locked the door and double-checked it.
Smart.
She wore skinny jeans, sandals and an oversize top that mostly concealed her figure. Before stepping off her rickety porch she opened an umbrella—one that sported wide, bold stripes in every color imaginable.
Yup, rainbow colors.
He’d like to see the progress she’d made inside the house, but just