As a member of the Delta Force team stationed down here in the wilds of Alabama, each person had their own way of dealing with the stress of their jobs. Some guys drank, others got into drugs when the stress was too much. Zeke lost himself in the science of baking and Derick grew things. Whenever he started to get into his head too deeply, he sank his bare feet into the rich earth, enjoying the feeling of dew on his toes, and running his hands over the plants that produced fruits and vegetables. He’d planted fruit trees in the front yard. He also grew strawberries, tomatoes, corn, beans, green and yellow squash, pumpkins, butternut and spaghetti squash, eggplant, bell peppers, banana peppers, jalapeno peppers…he had dozens of plants growing in his backyard. Hell, he was a freaking farmer according to his friends, Mike, Zeke, and Joe, his fellow officers on the team.
But his vegetable garden helped him cope with the stress of his job.
So, what the hell was he going to do about the stress of his pretty, new neighbor? Even as he glanced over at her house, there was no movement. But he knew. Derick could feel her eyes on him. The lights were off in the house this early in the morning, but she was there. And she was awake.
How the hell had she snuck over here to put these jars on his porch? Damn, he was impressed with her stealth. There weren’t many people, hell, there weren’t any people, who could get by him. Except her, apparently.
Derick bent down to pick up the three bottles of sauce, looking at them carefully. He hefted one in his hand, as if testing the weight. But in reality, he was using his peripheral vision to see where the little woman was in her house.
Nothing. No movement. No lights, no shifting of the curtains. Not a damn thing.
She’d learned well, he thought, gritting his teeth.
Bringing the jars of sauce inside, he put them in the fridge, then went back outside, still hoping to see the woman. Nothing.
Getting into his truck he backed out of the driveway and headed into work, sifting through the various ways he might catch a glimpse of the enticing woman.
Pulling into his normal parking space next to the warehouse on the military base, he looked around, noticed that one of the teams was gone. He didn’t know where they had gone, but he knew enough about the world situation to make a pretty good guess.
Grabbing the baskets from the back of his pickup, he carried his duffle as well as the fresh produce into the warehouse, dumping the vegetables onto the kitchen counter, then headed over to the workout area to join the others.
“What did you bring today?” Mike called out.
Derick pulled his shirt off and grabbed one of the jump ropes to warm up. “Stuff,” was all he said.
Mike, Joe and Zeke, the only three on the teams that had arrived so far, chuckled.
“A man of few words,” Mike teased. Derick didn’t respond as he sped up the jump rope, feeling his muscles engage.
“Tomatoes. Some squash. Gotta get ‘em off the vines early or it gets tough and stringy.”
Zeke nodded as he hefted the weights over his head. “I brought some fresh bread in today too.”
Derick smiled, shaking his head. “Rough night for Abby?”
Zeke grunted. “She had leg cramps last night. It always freaks me out when that happens.”
Hence, the freshly baked bread, Derick thought.
Derick started considering surveillance options. What time had his lovely neighbor dropped off the jars of pasta sauce? And how in the world did he know that she was lovely? He hadn’t even seen her face because of the sunglasses and the ridiculous hat that she’d pulled down over her face.
Yes, surveillance equipment was essential. But would that be an invasion of her privacy? And what about the challenge? He sort of liked the idea of trying to catch her off guard by himself. Technology was a good idea, essential even, when he and his team were out in the field. He’d never put his team in danger by ignoring the value of technology.
But this was his home. His oasis from the chaos of the real world. No, he’d avoid surveillance equipment and figure out what she was up to on his own. Smiling, he tossed the jump rope off to the side and went over to the weights. Grunting, he lifted and listened as the others around him talked. Mike’s wife, Lexie, was home with their one year old daughter. Abby was pregnant with their first child. Mike had been married for about a year and a half now, while Zeke had been married for about six months.
Prior to their weddings, marriage had never occurred to Derick. He preferred his solitude. He craved it.
But he had to admit, there was a certain appeal to the idea of coming home to someone special.
He paused, as he pictured a petite brunette in his house, cooking pasta and beaming at him as he walked through the door.
“You okay?” Mike asked.
Derick grunted with a nod. “Fine,” he replied, and picked up a heavier weight, forcing himself to focus on the moment, on lifting and getting stronger. Unfortunately, he struggled to focus. His thoughts lingered on a cute butt in baggy jeans, wondering what color underwear his secretive neighbor wore.
Chapter 3
Okay, at least she recognized the strawberries. Carrie glanced down at the bag again, tilting her head to one side as she wondered what the other stuff was. It was long and red and…it smelled like grass. Had her devil-neighbor given her some sort of weird grass?
She glanced quizzically at her neighbor’s house, but Carrie knew he’d already left for work. She had no idea what he did for a living, but assumed it had something to do with the military since the Army base was so close by.
Picking up one of the stalks, she examined it, smelled it, and gingerly tasted it. The bitterness twisted her tongue. “What is this?”
Scooping up the whole bag, she brought it into her kitchen. Taking one of the strawberries, she rinsed it off, and took a bite. “Oh my!” This was the best strawberry she’d ever tasted! “You must have an odd relationship with Satan,” she muttered as she stared out the kitchen window at her neighbor’s house, “but you grow amazing fruit!”
With a smile, the first smile she’d experienced in a long time, she grabbed another strawberry and headed into the living room. “Okay, where to start?” she asked the empty room. There were some holes in the walls that needed to be fixed, everything needed to be sanded down and re-painted, and the floors should be sanded and refinished. “Oh boy,” she whispered.
Heading to the family room where she’d stored her tools, she grabbed the power sander. For the rest of the day, she sanded down the walls, the banister, and the woodwork, making everything smooth and even. Carrie patched up the damaged wood with wood filler, and sanded it down again.
She also wrote a note, which she wrapped around one of the red stalks, and went back to her neighbor’s house, being very careful not to step on any of the flowers he’d planted, where she left red stalk and note, then hurried back to her house before her neighbor arrived home.
When his big, black pickup truck pulled into the driveway, Carrie was upstairs in one of the small bedrooms, pretending to read a book. In reality, Carrie was spying on her neighbor, fascinated by the huge brute.
With stealth and caution, Carrie peered out the window, her back against the far wall, all the lights in her house off. She’d learned this trick a long time ago and smiled when her neighbor picked up the red stalk, read the brief note, then glanced over at her house. He stared long and hard, obviously trying to see her. With a smile, she pressed her shoulders back against the wall, knowing he couldn’t. Even with the summer sun setting late these days, he wouldn’t be able to see into her house. She felt safe this way. And safe was a pretty nice feeling.