Free Falling For A Redneck by Eve Langlais

Ignore it. But the persistent light tapper wouldn’t leave. Sidling up to the front door while trying to stay out of the line of sight of the windows flanking it, she peered through her wispy curtains to see a bulky figure on her front stoop. Oh my God, is it my stalker?
    The figure turned slightly , and she saw his face. Nope, not a stalker. Worse. Her next-door nemesis and starring actor in her newly awakened libido’s fantasies. Her hunky redneck neighbor, here at her door, as if her thoughts had called him. Maybe I have psychic sexual powers and my body has been sending out messages saying ‘I want you’. Marissa almost giggled. She always got silly when she drank martinis.
    Forgetting her state of dishabille, she flung open the door to confront him. “What do you want now?”
    “I was coming over to thank you again for watching my boys today. They really liked you.”
    “Yes, well, they’re not as bad as I expected,” Marissa lied. Truth was his boys were absolutely adorable, and she’d loved the time she spent with them.
    “I also wanted to apologize for what I said to you the other day.”
    “Apology accepted.” Marissa went to close the door, but a big black boot inserted itself in the gap and prevented it from shutting. Dirk pushed the door open, forcing Marissa to retreat as he practically forced his way into her house. His big body presented a looming presence that, even with her height, made her feel small—and ignited a fire in her nerve endings.
    She should have felt fear, especially when h e shut the door behind him, making the small space of her entrance seem even more confined—intimate. With her space compromised, she took another step back and hit the wall, the martini glass she held in her hand splashing again onto the fabric of her thin gown, making the thin fabric stick to the curve of her breast. His gaze followed the spill, and she could have sworn his eyes smoldered. Her breath hitched, and her nipples puckered, something he could clearly see through the thin fabric of her gown. His lips turned up in a half smile.
    Marissa used her free hand to pull her robe tight around her, trying to hide the effect he had on her body. An effect she just couldn’t control.
    “What do you want? Shouldn’t you be at home with your boys?” she asked, her voice coming out reedier than she would have liked.
    “The boys are in bed , and I’ve got the monitor turned on,” he said, pointing to a mini gadget clipped to his belt. “I want to talk to you. I said some pretty nasty stuff yesterday, and I feel real bad about it.” He couldn’t hold her gaze, and he glanced down at his booted feet. “It was wrong and rude of me to say the things I did. You have a right to your privacy and beliefs. I can’t say as I understand some of them, but I should at least be man enough to respect them.”
    “Oh,” she replied. Her usual icy disdain seemed to have fled her , leaving her speechless in the face of this most surprising apology. Feeling bolstered, even if by alcohol, she said in a rush, “I’m sorry too. I’ve had a rough week, and I’m afraid I lost my temper and said things, too, that I shouldn’t have.” The apologetic words felt stiff and strange even as they passed her lips but were so worth the widening smile he gave her, a masculine grin that made her tummy do a somersault.
    His eyes bored into hers. They burned with a smoky intensity that had her almost trembling like an untried schoolgirl. Her hands , shaky and slightly damp with perspiration, made her grip on her glass slippery. She put the drink down on the side table, watching the floating olives, giving herself a moment to regain her composure.
    When she looked up , expecting the electric moment to have passed, she discovered it hadn’t. He still eyed her with that intense gaze, and she couldn’t help an inexplicable urge to throw herself at him. To kiss his sensual lips. To feel his big body against hers. To throw caution to the