Trey whistled softly. “Come here, Beau. Come on, boy. He’s been chasing squirrels all day. You can take the dog out of the city, but you can’t take the city out of the dog.”
“Go,” Libby whispered, waving her hand in the dog’s face. “Get out of here, you mangy mutt!” But Beau took her frantic movements as encouragement and he leapt through the bushes and knocked Libby flat on her back. Libby flailed her arms as the dog stood above her and licked her face with his cold tongue, his muddy paws planted firmly on her chest. Libby closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands.
When the dog finally stopped, she risked a look up to find both Trey and Sarah staring down at her. An amused grin quirked Trey’s lips.
He chuckled softly. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Lisbeth Parrish.”
“I—I have to go now,” Sarah said, forcing a smile. “I’ve got recipes to type. I’ll call you later, Lib. Nice seeing you again, Trey. Y’all take care now.”
“Oh, we will be talking,” Libby muttered, pushing up on her elbows and brushing her hair out of her eyes.
Trey grinned, his arms crossed over his bare chest. “I was wondering when you were going to stop by and welcome me to the neighborhood.” He held out his hand to her, but Libby slapped it away, humiliated that she’d been caught spying on him.
“Is that any way to welcome me to the neighborhood? Where’s my chicken casserole and my pineapple upside-down cake?”
Libby struggled to get to her feet, the roses scratching at her arms and face. He found this all so amusing. Probably as amusing as he’d found her letter, full of flowery prose and professions of love. “I only bake casseroles for people I’m happy to see.”
“Lisbeth, I expected a much more hospitable welcome.”
Biting back a curse, Libby brushed the mud off her cotton sundress. “I may have to tolerate your presence next door, but I don’t have to like it, Clayton. You’re a Marbury and I’m a Parrish. What do you expect from me beyond hostility?”
Trey frowned and for a moment, Libby regretted her sharp words. This was not the way she wanted to begin, but he seemed to delight in her embarrassment. He took a step toward her and she backed away, but he managed to capture her chin.
“Stay still.” He slowly turned her head, then ran his thumb along her cheek.
“What—what are you doing?”
“You’re bleeding,” Trey said. He reached down and withdrew a bandanna from the pocket of his shorts. Gently, he dabbed at her cheek. “You shouldn’t lurk in the roses. They have thorns.”
Libby stared up at his face, unable to drag her gaze away. He was much more handsome than she remembered—but then, she remembered him as a boy, a high school football star with a disarming smile and a body worthy of a Greek god. He was a man now, and his features had a harder edge; his mouth was firmer and his jaw stronger. She felt her heartbeat quicken and suddenly, she couldn’t breathe.
“I—I wasn’t lurking.”
His gaze met hers directly and she saw eyes so blue they sent shivers down her spine. When he licked his upper lip, Libby lapsed into contemplation of how his tongue might feel moving across her mouth, tracing a path along her neck, dipping a bit lower. She swallowed hard. Why was this happening to her? She’d had other men in her life—handsome, attentive men. But they’d never made her feel this way, all light-headed and breathless, as if she were teetering on the edge of something very dangerous.
“It doesn’t look too bad,” he said, leaning closer to examine her wounds. “Shouldn’t leave a scar.”
“I suppose I should thank you,” Libby said as she drew away. “But since your dog was the cause of my accident, I don’t think I will.”
He stared at her for a long moment, as if he could read her mind, and then shrugged. “Just trying to be neighborly.”
Libby brushed the dirt off her dress. “With a line like that, it’s a good thing we’re standing in my garden,” she muttered. “My roses need the fertilizer.”
Trey hitched his hands up on his waist and shook his head. “Maybe you ought to just lay back down with the rest of the prickly things in this garden, Lisbeth.”
The insult stung. She hadn’t meant to act so nasty, but Trey had a way of making her feel like a seventeen-year-old geek all over again. “So we finally see the real Trey Marbury,” Libby murmured, crossing her arms beneath her breasts and straightening her spine.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
She tipped up her chin. “Tell me, of all the houses in Belfort, why did you choose to move into this one?”
“You think I bought this house because of you?” Trey chuckled. “Now don’t you have a low eye for a high fence.”
Libby ground her teeth. He looked so satisfied, as if he had her exactly where he wanted her! All the confidence he’d possessed as a teenager had increased tenfold and Libby knew he’d have a snappy retort for anything she might throw his way. Well, she wasn’t a girl anymore. She was a woman fully capable of defending herself against his charms. “You’re no better than any other Marbury, all of you crooked as a barrel of snakes.”
“So that’s how it’s going to be?” Trey asked, taking a step toward her, his eyes glittering with amusement, goading her.
“Just stay out of my way,” Libby warned. “Keep your dog out of my garden and keep your nose out of my business. I’m watching you.”
“Yes, I know. I’ve seen you peering out from behind those starched curtains. For someone who values her privacy, you’re just a little too interested in your neighbors. Or is it just me you find so fascinating?”
Libby took a step forward, standing so close to him she could feel the heat of his body. She poked him in the chest, setting him back on his heels. “Don’t dare presume that I have even the slightest interest in you, Marbury.”
His jaw went tight as he stared into her eyes. Then, in one quick movement, he grabbed her hand and swept it behind her back, pulling her body up against his. At first, she was too stunned to protest. And then, when she opened her mouth to speak, all she could manage was a tiny gasp.
Libby’s eyes drifted down to his lips and she wondered if he had any intention of kissing her. If he did, she wasn’t sure that she’d be able to do anything about it—except perhaps kiss him back. But when her eyes met his again, Libby’s heart froze. It was there, in the icy blue depths. He knew exactly what she was thinking.
Trey’s lips curled into a grin and he chuckled softly. “What? Can’t think of anything to say?”
“What I have to say to you isn’t fit for civilized ears.”
He leaned closer to her, taking his own sweet time as he did. Libby waited, frantically wracking her brain for some acidic comeback or well-aimed put-down, certain he was about to kiss her and knowing she didn’t want to stop him. But before his lips touched hers, he paused, hovering so close she could feel his breath on her face.
Her heart hammered in her chest and Libby felt herself losing touch with reality. All she could think about was this moment and how everything hinged on her reaction. She didn’t move, barely breathed, her body trembling with anticipation.
And then, he did it. She knew it was coming, but she still wasn’t prepared for the flood of desire that raced through her bloodstream. In single fleeting moment, his lips were on hers. A tiny moan slipped from her throat as she collapsed against him, and he took it as an invitation. His tongue slowly traced along her bottom lip and then invaded, taking possession of both her mouth and her ability to reason.
Every nerve in her body seemed to come alive, every thought focused on the feel of his lips on hers. She’d kissed a small number of boys in her life, but this wasn’t just a kiss. It was a challenge, a dare, the first salvo in a battle that had just begun—and Libby couldn’t show any weakness. They weren’t kids anymore and along the way, they’d acquired some very adult weapons.
She returned the kiss in full measure, her tongue meeting his, touching and tangling until the taste of him filled her. Her hands flitted to his face and then furrowed through his hair, tempting him to surrender and declare her the victor.
When he finally drew away, Libby looked up at him, proud of her effort. She expected to see the self-satisfied grin she’d come to know, but instead he appeared to be as consumed by the kiss as she was. He gazed down at her through half-hooded eyes, and his breathing was shallow and quick.
“I think we’ve gotten off to a fine start,” he murmured, allowing his nose to bump against hers. “In fact, I think I’m going to enjoy the neighborhood just fine.”
With that, he let go of her arm. Libby stumbled back, light-headed and weak-kneed, nearly falling into the rose bushes again. But she caught herself just in time, straightening her posture and smoothing her trembling hands over the front of her dress. “Don’t be so sure. Just because you managed to kiss me doesn’t mean I’ve changed my mind about you.”
“Managed to kiss you? Considering your response, I more than managed. Besides, if you think there was anything romantic about that kiss, you’re wrong.”
“Really?” Libby said. “Why did you kiss me then?”
“It was the only way to keep you from hurling another insult at me,” Trey replied.
“Well, there’s a much easier way to accomplish that. You could just run on down to the train tracks and take yourself a nice long nap.” She glanced at her watch. “The train comes through at about three, so why don’t you plan on sleeping ‘til four?”
“I don’t think I’ll be doing that,” Trey said.
“Then just stay out of my life. Keep your dog out of my garden and your face out of my line of vision and we’ll get on just fine. And if you’re going to do yard work, at least wear a shirt.”