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Allison Stiles is the epitome of responsibility. Guardian to her two rambunctious younger brothers, she also runs a home daycare. While she doesn't have time for a vacation, she really needs a diversion.
Enter Eric Thomas, her new neighbor. Tall, dark and handsome and just what she needs to get her mind off her responsibilities, even if only for a short time.
Moving into the house he inherited from his uncle was not part of Eric Thomas' plan. Yet, starting a new business ties up a good portion of his capital, so he forgoes the fancy downtown apartment for the quaint Rogers Park neighborhood.
Now if he could just get his mind off his sexy neighbor and back on the business at hand.
At thirty-one, he was definitely getting too old to spend an evening schmoozing a potential client with expensive scotch. Not only would his wallet pay the price, but also his body and aching head.
The cry came again, louder this time. He swung his feet to the floor and reached for the alarm clock. Six-forty-two. What the devil?
Shuffling to the window, he fisted the blackout curtains and pushed them aside.
A man, most-likely ‘Mr. Hubbard’, was wrestling his screaming toddler into the house across the street. Once the door shut behind them, a semblance of order was restored.
Short-lived it would appear when the door opened again and a woman descended the four steps into the yard. She had a sign of some sort under one arm and wielded a sledge hammer in her opposite hand.
As badly as his head hurt, and as much as he craved the dark solitude of his bedroom, an outright laugh escaped him.
The woman, five-foot-two at the most, probably weighed less than the tool she carried. He gave her the once-over. Despite her diminutive height, her body was one luscious curve after another. He blinked and let go of the curtain’s edge, only to lift it a second time.
Long blonde hair cascaded across her slim shoulders, landing just above her narrow waist. Her hips flared out nicely, a shapely counter balance to her perfectly-rounded breasts.
His body stirred unexpectedly, but he dismissed the reaction as a regular early-morning occurrence. He let the curtain drop again. For all of five seconds.
Cursing his weakness for nicely built women, he pushed the heavy material aside for the third time. While he’d been doing his semi-best to ignore her, she’d made her way to the middle of the massive yard. Placing the pointed end of the wooden stake on the ground, she raised the hammer in the air and dropped the heavy steel head down firmly against the top of the stake. She repeated the hammering process another two times until the sign stood by itself.
Bewitched Day Care:
A Magical Place for Your Child
Cute slogan. The creative adman side of his brain acknowledged the catchy phrasing. Yet, all the practical side could see were the two words…day and care. Visions of screaming kids filled his thoughts, aggravating an already pounding head.
Mental note number two: move to the back bedroom, away from the street.
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