No Ordinary Man. Suzanne Brockmann
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that you’re a little itchy for some male company. And heaven knows you could use some help both paying the bills and raising Kelsey. But don’t hitch yourself to some guy you don’t really know just to—”
“Doris,” Jess singsonged warningly.
“I mean, if it’s all hot and heavy between you two, if he makes your heart beat harder, then God bless him, but still, make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into,” Doris said, rushing her words in her haste to get them out. “Ian Davis was no prize, but he never got violent—at least not with you or Kelsey. But you always hear about these polite, quiet types who end up taking a machine gun and—”
“Gee, I’m going to sleep really well tonight,” Jess said.
“For all you know, this Rob could be the guy everyone’s looking for—the serial killer,” Doris persisted.
“He could also be Elvis Presley,” Jess said, “alive and in disguise, hiding from his adoring public.”
“Jess, I’m serious.”
“Rob needed a place to live,” Jess interrupted her friend. “There’s nothing going on, and I have no plans for there to be something going on. I needed a tenant. Fast. Both for the money, and for the fact that if Rob didn’t move in, Stanford Greene was going to.”
That silenced Doris. “God,” she finally said.
“Yes,” Jess agreed, pushing open the screen door and carrying the cordless phone out with her onto the deck. “God.”
“That creepy guy who lives next door with his creepy parents?” Doris asked.
“Yes,” Jess said, glancing over at her neighbor’s house. It was in dire need of a paint job and some serious repairs. Creepy indeed—both the house and the people who lived inside. Stanford Greene’s mother had decided that since her baby boy was pushing forty years old, it was high time he got married. She’d also decided that Jess would make the perfect little bride for her baby. When Mrs. Greene had heard that Elmer Schiller was moving out of Jess’s apartment to live with his daughter in Fort Myers, she’d thought that Stanford’s moving in would be a perfect way for her darling son to get to know Jess better. But perfect wasn’t quite the word Jess had in mind. She could just picture pudgy Stanford with his ear pressed to the paper thin walls, listening to every phone conversation Jess had. She could just see him staring at her all day from the deck, rather than from the other side of the wooden fence that separated their two yards.
“I take it all back,” Doris conceded with a shudder. “Well, some of it anyway.”
Jess leaned on the rail of the deck, looking down at the driveway below. The trunk of Rob’s car was open, lit by the dim garage light, but her new tenant was nowhere in sight.
“I’m sorry, am I making too much noise?” a soft voice said, and she spun around, heart pounding. “Maybe I should move the rest of the stuff up in the morning,” Rob added. “I know it’s late, and I don’t want to wake up your daughter.”
Rob must’ve been inside the apartment. But Jess hadn’t heard the door open, or the sound of his footsteps on the deck. It was as if he’d suddenly appeared, instantly standing next to her, conjured up by her vivid imagination.
He was taller than she remembered. And even though he was a good five feet away from her, it seemed as if he were standing much too close.
“You startled me,” she said breathlessly.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized again.
His eyes were brown. They were average brown—neither deep chocolate nor tawny amber. Just…brown. They were level and steady and mostly hidden behind circular wire-rimmed glasses. But every time Jess met his gaze, something very hot and very dangerous sparked. This time was no exception.
His hair and face were slightly damp with perspiration. But he hadn’t bothered to roll up his shirtsleeves, and his tie wasn’t even loosened.
Despite the protestations she’d made to Doris, Jess found Rob Carpenter incredibly attractive. She wouldn’t admit it to her friend, but she couldn’t deny it to herself.
On the surface, he seemed so…average. He had conservatively cut brown hair, brown eyes, a medium build. He always dressed the same way—like a computer programmer. Tonight he was still wearing his work clothes—khaki slacks and a long-sleeved button-down shirt with a bland tie. In an elevator full of businessmen, he would blend into the crowd—nondescript, nothing special.
Unless you looked more closely.
His shoulders were broad beneath his crisp white shirt. His body was slender, and his pants hugged his backside almost sinfully. Undeniably, the man had a great butt. And a great smile. His teeth were straight and white, and his cheeks crinkled charmingly at the edges of his mouth. He was much better than average-looking. In fact, behind those glasses and that unremarkable haircut, he was remarkably handsome. His face was lean, with a strong jaw and a straight, nearly perfect nose. His lips were beautifully shaped, and his smile made his brown eyes sparkle with amusement. Yet there was always a tinge of sadness behind that smile, a hint of tragedy in his eyes.
Maybe that was what Jess found so attractive. Maybe it was the mystery that seemed to linger around him.
Or maybe it was simply the fact that outwardly Rob was a polar opposite to Ian Davis, Jess’s ex-husband. The truth was, from his short brown hair to the tips of his well-polished businesslike shoes, Rob appeared to be everything that manic and out-of-control Ian, with his Hawaiian shirts, his long, curly blond hair and his ice blue eyes had never been.
“Jess, are you still there?” Doris asked.
She was staring at Rob. Jess knew she was staring, and she forced herself to pull her eyes away. “Doris, I’ve got to go,” she said into the telephone.
“Just remember what I said, hon.”
“Goodbye,” Jess returned firmly and punched the off button on the phone. She turned back to Rob. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay,” he said in his quiet, accentless voice.
“You’re hardly making any noise at all,” she told him. “I heard you pull into the driveway while I was on the phone and I meant to come out and ask if you needed any help. Can I give you a hand with the rest of your things?”
“No, that’s all right.” Rob looked over the railing at his car in the driveway below. “I don’t have that much stuff, and I’m almost done. There’re just another couple of boxes.”
“I can help you with them.”
Rob shook his head. “No, really. They’re both too heavy. They’re my free weights. I didn’t pack ’em real well—I just threw all the plates into a couple of crates.”
Free weights. Rob lifted weights. Funny, she would have never known. If he had a weight lifter’s physique, it was hidden underneath his loose-fitting shirt. At first glance he looked so much like a computer nerd, barely capable of lifting a too heavy briefcase, yet here he was, bringing weight-lifting equipment into her apartment.
Her apartment? His apartment now. He’d signed a six-month lease just this afternoon. For the next six months, Rob Carpenter was going to be her closest neighbor.
As she gazed up into his eyes, Jess felt again that spark of awareness, that whisper of heat.
But he turned away. “Well…I’ll, um, get the rest of my, uh…”
“I’ll get some iced tea,” Jess offered, heading for the door to her kitchen. “You look like you could use something cool to drink.”
“That would be nice,” Rob said, stopping at the top of the stairs and looking back at her, smiling very slightly. “Thanks.”
He moved silently down the stairs as Jess pulled open her screen door.
Doris