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respond, he added, “Your neighbor.”
    The door opened. Not all the way, of course, just enough to
reveal Grace standing there glaring at him.
    “Good morning,” he offered, his eyes dipping to take her in.
She was dressed in jeans and a black hoodie, but her feet were bare, aside from
the deep blue polish on her toenails.
    “Somebody painted over the peephole,” she muttered, running a
hand through her crazy hair. It stood up in wild layers that somehow made her
look younger. Or maybe that was the faded, smeared makeup. But he noticed that
her lips were still a deep pink color, even first thing in the morning. That
wasn’t lipstick. That was just the sweet shade of her mouth.
    “The what?” he finally remembered to ask.
    “The peephole,” she gestured at the door.
    “Oh.” He looked over his shoulder at his own door. “I guess I
never noticed.”
    “I guess you wouldn’t. Did you need something?”
    “No. I just wanted to check on you.”
    “Me?” Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”
    “Well, we’re neighbors. And I hadn’t heard so much as a door
shut since I saw you yesterday. I thought maybe Old Rayleen had sent you on your
way.”
    She started to shake her head, and then seemed to be caught by
surprise by a huge yawn. Her hand clutched the edge of the door and swung it
farther open. The place looked the same as yesterday. Not one piece of furniture
or sign of life. The kitchen was dark and quiet.
    Cole was craning his neck to look around her when Grace seemed
to realize what he was doing and narrowed the opening. But he’d seen enough.
None of her stuff was here yet.
    “Want a cup of coffee?”
    For a second, her dark, fathomless eyes flared with emotion.
Something close to lust.
    “It’s already brewed,” he coaxed.
    “Mmm.” She glanced toward his door, and he knew she was hoping
he’d offer to bring her a cup and leave her alone. Fat chance.
    “Come on. We can leave my front door open, since I make you
nervous.”
    “Ha!” Her laugh was rusty and gorgeous. “Why would you make me nervous?”
    Cole wasn’t sure he liked the emphasis she’d put on you, but he just smiled. “No idea. But I obviously
do.”
    “That’s not nervousness, cowboy. It’s called being smart enough
not to get behind closed doors with a strange man.”
    “Strange, huh? I hope you haven’t been listening to the stories
about me. Half of them aren’t even true.”
    “You wouldn’t know strange if it bit you on the ass,” she said,
but she waved him back and stepped into the hall with a small smile. “Are you
going to give me coffee or not?”
    “Yes, ma’am,” he drawled, tipping an imaginary hat before he
moved across the hall to open his door. “I was just about to have breakfast,” he
lied. He’d eaten almost two hours before, but she didn’t seem to have done much
shopping yet. “Will you eat bacon and eggs? If you’re a vegetarian, I can whip
up some toast.”
    She didn’t answer for a few seconds. Cole heard her close the
door softly as he headed for the coffeepot.
    “Bacon and eggs would be great,” she finally said. “And toast,
too, if you’re offering.”
    “Sure.” He poured her coffee and refilled his own cup. What the
hell. A little aching in his thigh was worth spending some time with her. He
didn’t have anything else interesting going on. And it wouldn’t be the first
time he’d endured aching for an attractive woman.
    Cole put sugar and milk out on the counter, tossed a pan on a
burner and grabbed the bacon and eggs. He felt her gaze on his back as he
worked. “Over easy okay?” he asked as he laid bacon on the cast iron.
    “Great,” she answered. “You look like you know what you’re
doing.”
    He glanced back to find her seated on a stool, hunched over her
coffee as if she was cold. Mornings were chilly up here if you weren’t from the
mountains. He reached past the fridge to turn up the thermostat. “We all take
turns cooking in the bunkhouse.”
    “Oh, the