know.”
“Your vocabulary has been very limited lately,” she countered, a mischievous spark dancing in her eyes. “That’s all you ever call me.”
Whenever she smiled at him like that it was as if every organ in his body malfunctioned, and it didn’t feel good. Somehow he still managed to shrug, feigning indifference. “I just thought pest sounded a little tamer than canker .”
She didn’t take offense and laughed instead, the sound soft and delicious and totally unfair to him. The way she made him feel—it wasn’t pleasant at all. Since she’d become his nightmare of a neighbor over a year ago, the word “peace” had all but gone extinct from his dictionary. Reckless and troublesome as she was, Penelope made his life a real roller-coaster ride. Problem was, Jason wasn’t particularly fond of roller-coasters, unless they included an orgasm afterward, which in her case they didn’t. All Penelope included in her topsy-turvy adventures was a lousy headache. Or two.
“So,” she said merrily. “Any plans after tee time?”
“I’m booked,” he instantly said, his eyes falling to her plush, pink lips—lips responsible for plenty of sleepless nights. Nightmares, really. “Big-time booked. Why?”
She shrugged casually. “Oh, I just thought we could play with the devil.”
“Don’t think so.”
She arched her brows. “Why not?” she taunted saucily. “It could be fun. We could—”
“No.”
“Jason…”
He grabbed her shoulders and squeezed them hard. “I’m not playing that game.” “But I know for sure you played with Martha the other day!” she protested. “And she said—”
“I don’t care what Martha said.”
She pursed her lips tightly, her hand coiling around the plush devil’s throat as she pressed it to her chest. “Why?” She was squeezing the devil so hard Jason feared the toy’s eyes might just pop out any second now. “Why won’t you play with me?”
He sighed wearily. Dealing with her was unbelievably draining. “Can’t you stop looking for trouble for once in your life?”
“I don’t look for trouble, you do,” she said willfully. “I don’t ask you to follow me around. You do that all by yourself.”
“I’m saving your ass!” he protested.
“My ass doesn’t need your precious saving!”
And Jason had already decided that even if it did, he’d save it no more!
When she drew in a deep, miffed breath in a failed attempt to tranquilize herself, her nipples brushed against his chest and he could almost swear she did that on purpose, just to rile him. Jason had never noticed when her breasts had grown, but one day there they were—shouting for attention—and trying not to gape at them had always been exhausting. Her father, being a close family friend, had charged Jason with the noble task of looking out for his youngest daughter, since they’d been friends as kids, and Jason had found he’d taken the task far more seriously than he should have.
Penelope Judd was hardly predictable.
She was quite a little rebel and had been so her whole life. Trouble was as much a part of her as every living inch of her body, and she seemed to love it. The fact that she was reckless, though, didn’t mean she was careless. Oh no, Miss Disaster cared about a lot of things. She cared about trash and shopping and making Jason’s life miserable.
She was a very caring person when it came to all that. Very thorough and…dedicated. Shopping. There’s a word Miss Disaster understood. To her, it was an art form, a much needed “therapy”, which she happened to need often. A couple months ago, right out of the blue, she’d gone shopping for ten hours straight, only to decide to send all her purchases to charity out of damned remorse for spending so much. Jason had wisely suggested she just send the freaking money to charity. Did she listen? Oh no, because if it wasn’t weird or complicated, it wasn’t something Miss Disaster would understand.
Trash.
“Your vocabulary has been very limited lately,” she countered, a mischievous spark dancing in her eyes. “That’s all you ever call me.”
Whenever she smiled at him like that it was as if every organ in his body malfunctioned, and it didn’t feel good. Somehow he still managed to shrug, feigning indifference. “I just thought pest sounded a little tamer than canker .”
She didn’t take offense and laughed instead, the sound soft and delicious and totally unfair to him. The way she made him feel—it wasn’t pleasant at all. Since she’d become his nightmare of a neighbor over a year ago, the word “peace” had all but gone extinct from his dictionary. Reckless and troublesome as she was, Penelope made his life a real roller-coaster ride. Problem was, Jason wasn’t particularly fond of roller-coasters, unless they included an orgasm afterward, which in her case they didn’t. All Penelope included in her topsy-turvy adventures was a lousy headache. Or two.
“So,” she said merrily. “Any plans after tee time?”
“I’m booked,” he instantly said, his eyes falling to her plush, pink lips—lips responsible for plenty of sleepless nights. Nightmares, really. “Big-time booked. Why?”
She shrugged casually. “Oh, I just thought we could play with the devil.”
“Don’t think so.”
She arched her brows. “Why not?” she taunted saucily. “It could be fun. We could—”
“No.”
“Jason…”
He grabbed her shoulders and squeezed them hard. “I’m not playing that game.” “But I know for sure you played with Martha the other day!” she protested. “And she said—”
“I don’t care what Martha said.”
She pursed her lips tightly, her hand coiling around the plush devil’s throat as she pressed it to her chest. “Why?” She was squeezing the devil so hard Jason feared the toy’s eyes might just pop out any second now. “Why won’t you play with me?”
He sighed wearily. Dealing with her was unbelievably draining. “Can’t you stop looking for trouble for once in your life?”
“I don’t look for trouble, you do,” she said willfully. “I don’t ask you to follow me around. You do that all by yourself.”
“I’m saving your ass!” he protested.
“My ass doesn’t need your precious saving!”
And Jason had already decided that even if it did, he’d save it no more!
When she drew in a deep, miffed breath in a failed attempt to tranquilize herself, her nipples brushed against his chest and he could almost swear she did that on purpose, just to rile him. Jason had never noticed when her breasts had grown, but one day there they were—shouting for attention—and trying not to gape at them had always been exhausting. Her father, being a close family friend, had charged Jason with the noble task of looking out for his youngest daughter, since they’d been friends as kids, and Jason had found he’d taken the task far more seriously than he should have.
Penelope Judd was hardly predictable.
She was quite a little rebel and had been so her whole life. Trouble was as much a part of her as every living inch of her body, and she seemed to love it. The fact that she was reckless, though, didn’t mean she was careless. Oh no, Miss Disaster cared about a lot of things. She cared about trash and shopping and making Jason’s life miserable.
She was a very caring person when it came to all that. Very thorough and…dedicated. Shopping. There’s a word Miss Disaster understood. To her, it was an art form, a much needed “therapy”, which she happened to need often. A couple months ago, right out of the blue, she’d gone shopping for ten hours straight, only to decide to send all her purchases to charity out of damned remorse for spending so much. Jason had wisely suggested she just send the freaking money to charity. Did she listen? Oh no, because if it wasn’t weird or complicated, it wasn’t something Miss Disaster would understand.
Trash.
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