He glanced toward the house. "But I can't. There's that fence."
He was referring, of course, to the tall wooden fence in Harper's back yard, the one that divided her property from the adjacent property on Market Street.
"Alright," I said. "Then do the next best thing. Point and keep walking until you can't."
Chapter 8
Harper
The demolition guy gave me a disgruntled look before shrugging and moving toward my house with his pointer finger extended.
With the renter at my side, I stalked after the bearded destroyer, only to feel my eyes widen in surprise as the guy passed my house entirely and tramped into my back yard.
He didn't stop walking until he reached the back fence, at which point, he turned to me and explained, "I'm demolishing the building on the other side."
My face went utterly slack. "Oh."
The neighbor guy, who for some reason, had joined in our little parade, muttered, "There she goes again."
I whirled to face him. "What?"
"Oh," he practically sneered with the same eyeroll he'd given me last week. "That's what youalwayssay when you've got nothing better."
I glared up at him. "Againwith the eyeroll? Aren't you a little old for that?"
With a snort, he said, "Now you sound like my wife." His tone grew sarcastic. "You know, 'the slob'."
"For the last time," I said, "I never called her a slob."
"Yeah, and I suppose you didn't callmea pig, neither."
"Oh, get real," I said, jerking my thumb toward the renter. "I was callinghima pig, not you." The moment the words left my lips, my face burst into flames as my brain registered what I'd just said.
I whirled to the renter and blurted out, "But I didn't mean it. It wasn't personal. I was just thinking of you with all those girls in my bed."
Oh, God.
Had I truly just said that out loud?
The renter glanced around. "What girls?"
Now I was seriously rattled, and I started to babble. "I don't know. It's just that with your abs and all, I figured there'd be a whole lot of them." Suddenly, my hands flew to my face, covering my mouth to prevent me from saying anything more.
Smart hands.
Stupid me.
What Ireallyneeded was a muzzle.
As for the renter, he lowered his head and looked down to study his stomach. As he did, it suddenly struck me that once again, he was wearing no coat. Today, he wore dark jeans along with a gray button-down dress-shirt, the kind an office-worker might wear under a suit and tie.
Huh.Maybe hewasa businessman.
But forgetthat.Now I was mortified for a whole bunch ofnewreasons.
One, I'd called him a pig. Two, I'd mentioned those unknown girls. And three, I'd practically admitted that I was drooling over his abs.
And don't get me started on the whole demolition thing.
