JENNIE

"Stupid sweat glands." I fanned my armpits, taking a few breaths to calm my racing heart.

I was so nervous for this dinner with Lisa that I'd been sweating profusely for an hour. My hands were clammy, and I'd put on three layers of deodorant so far tonight. I hadn't been this nervous for dinner with someone since my first date with Kai in college.

I wasn't exactly sure why I'd invited Lisa over tonight. Maybe because she'd been so nice to me on the hiking trail. Maybe because I hadn't expected her to accept. But she was due at any moment, and I didn't want to be dripping when she arrived.

Thankfully, she hadn't come out of her cabin yet, so I had a few moments to breathe and cool down as I kept an eye on her house through the window.

It was Saturday so I'd spent the morning cleaning the camper. Then I'd gone to the local grocery store, where I'd questioned my menu choice at least a hundred different times as I'd wandered up and down all eight aisles.

Finally, I'd settled on a meal that i think she would enjoy: steak and potatoes. Though, I'd grabbed some chicken too in case she didn't eat red meat.

I'd come home and spent my afternoon in the kitchen. I'd prepped my favorite scalloped potatoes, which were currently in the oven. I'd cooked and shredded the chicken for my backup meal of barbeque sandwiches. But since scalloped potatoes went great with steak but were too fancy for barbeque, I'd made a homemade potato salad.

When I'd realized she might not like potatoes, I'd dashed into town for more groceries. I had coleslaw, fruit salad and corn on the cob crammed in my refrigerator.

It was when I'd finished cooking that the anxious sweating had started.

The only thing I was certain she'd like was dessert. I was going all out and making my famous skillet cookies.

I'd found these mini cast-iron skillets a few years ago. I would press chocolate chip cookie dough into the bottom and bake them until they were just past gooey. Then I'd top them with an enormous scoop—or two—of vanilla ice cream, drizzle them with chocolate and caramel sauce and dig in.

Even after Kai gave up sugar and processed foods, he'd indulge and split one with me.

Everyone loved my skillet cookies.

And even though my own skillets were in a storage unit until my house was remodeled, I'd found a skillet to use temporarily at a sporting goods store in Livingston a couple of weeks ago.

If Lisa didn't like sweets, I had no problem eating the entire cookie myself.

Life was too short to skip dessert on Saturday nights. And my curves wouldn't maintain themselves.

A loud gust of wind rolled over the Airstream, and I glanced out the window. The wind had been steadily picking up all afternoon, and the treetops weren't just slow dancing now, they were doing the polka.

Not wanting the camp chair I'd set up outside to go blowing down the mountain, I hustled out the door to fold it up.

"Hey." Lisa's deep rumble caught my attention.

I spun around to see her striding along the path between our homes. The chair slipped from my hands.

"Hi," I breathed, raking my eyes over sheer magnificence.

Lisa wore her signature tan pants—Carhartts, I think they were called. The sporting goods store in Livingston where I'd bought my skillet had racks and racks of those thick, canvas pants. Apparently, they were a staple in Montana wear because of their durability.

I knew from tugging them off her narrow hips that they were heavier than jeans. I knew from watching her leave my camper and still glossy with sweat, that they accentuated her incredible ass.

I tore my eyes away from her beefy thighs flexing beneath my new favorite brand of pants and forced them upward, over her flat stomach.

She was wearing a hunter-green Henley and had bunched up the long sleeves, baring her forearms. They were tanned and snaked with veins. Her biceps pulled tight at the thermal weave.

My gaze drifted higher to her face and I licked my lips. Not even my skillet cookies were as mouthwatering as Lisa Manoban.

The color of her shirt made the green in his eyes stand out and the gold flecks darker, more like copper.

My god, Head to toe, Lisa Manoban was magic.

Just the sight of her made my lady parts quiver and my heart do a funny flip. Even when we were in love, my heart had never flipped for Kai. I refused to think about what that meant.

Instead, I pictured Kai wearing Lisa's clothes and stifled a laugh. Kai would have looked like a fool in those clothes, an imposter portraying a rugged character. He lacked Lisa's natural grit and edge.

My neighbor's long legs ate up the distance between us quickly, and before I was ready to stop gawking, she was standing in front of me.

"Hi," I repeated. "How are you?"

"Good." She bent down for the chair I'd forgotten, folding it up and propping it against the camper.

"You're right on time. I'll get dinner started but I forgot to ask what you liked yesterday. Are steak and potatoes okay?"

She nodded. "Great."

"Okay. Would you like a beer or wine? I have red and white." Along with sparkling water, milk and three kinds of soda in case she didn't drink.

"Beer's fine."

Why did she keep grunting short answers? I was sweating again but smiled, hoping to put her at ease.

She had this odd look in her eyes, one I'd seen a couple of times over the last day. Her mouth turned down on one side, not a complete frown, but the beginning of one. Her eyebrows slanted together at the center, creating a deep crease above the wide bridge of her nose. And her eyes seemed to go in and out of focus, like she was being torn between past and present. The swirls of gold and brown and green dulled to a muddy mixture of all three.

I wanted to hug her.

But instead of wrapping my arms around those broad shoulders, I did the only thing I could think of to steal her attention.

I rambled.

"Did you ever see the inside of this house?" I pointed to my future home. "It was a shrine to the sixties. I'm having to remodel the entire thing because it looked like a psychedelic rainbow puked in there. I've never seen anything so hideous in my life."

She blinked, her eyes refocusing, and glanced at the house. Then she turned to my garbage heap by the Dumpster. "If those yellow cabinets are any indication, I'm glad I was spared the experience."

I giggled. "It's forever burned into my brain. For your sake, I'm glad too."

"How's the remodel going?"

"Slower than I'd like." I sighed. "But the crew has nearly all of the demolition done, so now they can start putting it all back together. Luckily for me, the house is structurally sound so they aren't having to fix a ton of fundamental problems."

Making it beautiful was tough enough. In addition to my floor-to-ceiling cosmetic updates, I was removing a few walls to open up the living room and kitchen area. And the master bathroom was going to be rearranged completely to give me more storage space.

It might be just me, but I liked to have an abundance of bath towels on hand. One day, I hoped to meet a guy who'd want to come over and occasionally spend the night. My future lover deserved plush towels after his morning shower too.

"Maybe after dinner you can give me a tour," Lisa said.

"I'd like that. Come on in." I led the way into the camper as Lisa followed close behind.

The moment the door shut behind her, the air turned heavy. My eyes landed on the couch and my cheeks flushed. Just yesterday she'd had me on that couch. Just yesterday she'd been inside me, making me lose all control.

When I looked over my shoulder, her eyes were locked on the couch. The colors burned bright and clear. They were electric. Her chest heaved with short, shallow breaths. Yesterday's escapades were fresh in her mind too.

Could Lisa be the one who used my spare towels? My brain screamed Danger! Danger! and I shut out the image of her emerging from my future shower, naked and dripping wet.

I cleared my throat. "Make yourself at home."

She blinked, then shied away from the couch to sit at the table instead while I went to the fridge and got out her beer.

With a quick flick of her hand, she unscrewed the top and tilted the dark glass to her lips. Her Adam's apple bobbed as she took one long pull.

I about combusted on the spot. Drinking beer was not supposed to be sexy. But the way she held that amber bottle in her large hand, the way her wet lips barely touched the rim, was scorch-the-earth hot.

"Need any help?" Lisa set her beer down, causing me to flinch.

"No, I'm good." I spun around for the fridge, busying myself by unloading the steaks.

Get a grip, Jennie. If I kept staring at her, she was going to think I'd just invited her over for sex. Maybe subconsciously, that had been the real motivation for my dinner invite.

Lisa's addicting scent filled the camper, and I frowned, knowing the food would soon drown it out. She smelled like wood and spice, something I rarely came across.

I went back to the fridge, getting out my potato dish just so my hands were busy. Her hair was a little too long. My fingers were aching to find out if the hairs were soft.

Yesterday's couch time hadn't been about learning or exploring. It had been all about relieving the tension and scratching the itch.

But the problem was, that itch was back, nagging me more than ever.

I turned on the oven and lit a burner on the stove, pushing away the urge to say screw the steaks, I'd rather screw Lisa. I got out a frying pan, ignoring the feel of Lisa's eyes dragging up and down my backside.

I'd worn my favorite cuffed jeans tonight, the ones that did great things for my ass and highlighted my slim waist. I'd also worn a simple black tank top with thin straps. The tank dipped low in both the back and front, showing off some skin.

"How do you like your steak?" I asked over my shoulder.

She ducked her head to her beer. Busted. "Medium rare."

I smiled and went about my cooking, occasionally glancing backward at Lisa. We'd make eye contact, instant heat sizzling between us, until one of us would find the courage to break away. When I went to set the table, I brushed her arm accidentally and she nearly came out of her seat.

The electricity between us was at ten thousand volts by the time I plated our meal and sat across from her. The room was so stifling with sexual tension, I was barely able to fill my lungs.

Every breath was a pant. Every heartbeat a boom. Every movement intensified the throbbing between my legs.

What the hell was going on? It was like years of repressed sexual desire had finally caught up with me. Sex with Lisa had awoken this intoxicating need for more and more and more. Not even the glass of red wine I'd had while cooking had mellowed it out.

And it appeared I wasn't the only one in this predicament.

Lisa's beer bottle had long since been drained, and she'd almost polished off her second. Her hand was gripping her steak knife so hard, I worried it would snap in her fierce grip.

"Enjoy."

She nodded, cutting into her steak and forking a bite. I cut into my own but froze as she lifted the bite to her mouth and chewed. Her jaw flexed. Her lips moved, just slightly.

Chewing? Chewing was sexy now? I recrossed my legs, concerned I wouldn't make it through this meal without a spontaneous orgasm.

I set down my fork and knife, closed my eyes and took in a long breath.

If we were going to survive this meal, I needed a distraction. We needed to move past the chemistry and into something more like friendship.

"So you design furniture," I said.

She nodded, still chewing.

"Do you like it?"

She nodded again.

"Good. It's important to love your job." I picked up my utensils and went back to my steak. "I love my job. I work for Jisoo Park. Her wife Rosé runs the bar in town. Do you know them?"

Lisa shook her head. "I don't get into town much."

Why did that statement not surprise me? "They moved here a few years ago from Los Angeles. That's where I met her Jisoo. This is actually their camper. They weren't using it this summer and let me borrow it."

Jisoo and Rosé had tried to convince me to stay in their boathouse until the remodel was done. But once I'd bought my property, I hadn't wanted to delay living here for a single minute. I'd planned to find my own camper to rent for a few months, but once Rosé got wind of that idea, she'd insisted on me taking the Airstream. When I'd asked to pay them for using it, Jisoo had threatened to fire me if I brought it up again.

"Jisoo and Rosé are two of my favorite people on the planet," I told Lisa. "Jisoo has a charitable organization called the Park Charity. I've been working as her assistant there for years."

"What kinds of charities?" she asked before diving into the potatoes. A small hum of appreciation came from her throat.

"Their portfolio is varied, but since they were founded in Los Angeles, they dedicate a lot of resources to inner-city programs. Jisoo's got a soft spot for children's charities, so over the last few years, she's really focused on pulling more of them."

And now that she was living in Montana, more of those charities were being added from the West Coast. For decades, the Park Charity had been city-centric, but Jisoo was expanding their reach. I was proud to say that my efforts were helping to make us known nationally.

My job was my pride. It was my passion.

Helping various charities get up and running made my pulse race. I loved weeding through proposals and pitching the ones I felt most strongly about to Jisoo. It was empowering, being in the inner circle, helping make decisions that would put a vast fortune to good use.

Nothing went on at the Park Charity that I wasn't privy to. But seating myself at Jisoo's side had taken work. A lot of hard work.

And while I'd been climbing my ladder, Kai had been climbing his. He'd landed his starring role on Broadway the same year I'd been promoted to work with Jisoo.

Ever since Kai and I had separated, I'd been carefully inspecting my failed marriage. Had he ever looked at me like I was the very oxygen keeping him alive? My subconscious was whispering no.

I wanted the look.

"This was delicious. Thank you."

Lost in my own introspection, I hadn't noticed that Lisa had finished her plate. "You're welcome."

"It's been a long time since someone cooked for me."

"My pleasure. It's nice not to eat dinner alone."

Even though we hadn't visited much, just her company was nice. Especially once the sexual tension had eased.

I'd spent months eating alone in LA. I'd avoided restaurants for fear of running into Kai or his family or our former friends. He'd convinced them all I was depressed, and that was the reason why I'd filed for divorce. Whenever I ran into an old acquaintance, they'd say hello, then spend the next ten minutes convincing me to give marriage counseling a chance.

Kai loved me, after all.

Everyone seemed to have gotten memory loss about Kai kissing his costar.

The press had scandalized him, but it had blown over quickly. His costar was soon seen on the arm of another Los Angeles elitist. And Kai had made a public apology for his infidelity that the media had eaten up like candy.

At times, it had felt like all of them was judging me for not running back into my grieving husband's open arms.

It had been easiest to stick to my apartment after that. I went to work. I went home. On occasion, I'd go see my parents or my brother. But they were busy with lives of their own, so I'd spent most evenings at my dinner table for one.

And though I loved being in Livingston, there were lonely nights here too.

Rosé and Jisoo would have me over for dinner every night, but I was trying not to wear out my welcome. I often ate lunch with them when I went down to work with Jisoo. If Rosé was at the bar, we'd often take breaks and eat with her there. But they needed their family time, so even when I was crashing in their boathouse, I'd leave and eat dinner alone.

"I'm a slow eater," I told Lisa, though she'd probably figured that out already.

"I inhale my food. Take your time."

As I ate, she looked out the window and over to my house. Then she inspected the camper from her seat. What she didn't do was make eye contact.

My table in the RV was small, technically a four-seater, but only if two of those four people were small children. And Lisa was a big one. Her knees came well past the halfway mark, and as I shifted slightly, our knees touched. Beneath us, our feet were close. Her tan boots were within a mere inch of my wedge sandals.

Testing the distance, I moved my foot ever so slightly. The second our soles touched, her eyes snapped to mine. The heat from earlier came back with the force of a blazing wildfire.

It wasn't a look of utter devotion and worship, but this look from Lisa was a close runner-up.

Any second now, I was expecting her to rip the table between us off its hinges and out from between us. Her eyes bored into mine, holding me captive, then skimming down my nose and to my lips.

The intensity of her stare made me dizzy. My tongue, acting on its own volition, darted between my lips and licked the bottom swell.

Lisa's eyes flared before her long lashes drooped, hooding her lust-drunk gaze.

My heart was missing beats. My fingers ran across the edge of the table, unable to hold still. But Lisa sat rigid and stiff, moving only to breathe and flick her gaze across my lips.

I wanted her tongue on my mouth, not her stare. I wanted to feel it sweep inside and have her for dessert.

My breath hitched when her foot next to mine twitched. It came up my bare ankle, and though the sole of her boot was rough, she used the slightest touch. The friction shot tingles straight up my leg, past my knee and right to my core.

Was she playing footsie with me?

I tested her, lifting the toe of my sandal up her ankle. She didn't pull her foot away.

Any other day, any other man, I'd laugh at this situation. We were playing footsie and it was utterly erotic.

Having sex with Lisa again would only complicate things. My body was all in, but there was a tiny warning bell ringing in the back of my mind.

Was this just a rebound? Was I transferring feelings from Kai to this person, simply because she was here?

No.

This wasn't a rebound or some kind of revenge fuck. This was pure, unfettered attraction. This was two people whose chemistry was explosive. This was me wanting Lisa. And her wanting me right back.

If we agreed this was casual, then what was the harm? Awesome sex between neighbors didn't have to get messy. When I'd moved here, I'd hoped to eventually find an easy relationship. So it had happened a little sooner than expected.

If we set some ground rules, there was no reason Lisa and I couldn't enjoy one another's bodies.

"I have dessert." Our feet kept playing beneath the table. "It's this huge chocolate chip cookie in a cast-iron skillet. I put ice cream on top and then drizzle chocolate and caramel sauce over it all."

"Sounds fucking incredible." Her gravelly voice made my core pulse.

"They are. I'll make one for us." I didn't make a move to get up. I was too busy enjoying the feel of a rugged's work boot kissing the soft skin of my ankle.

We both knew this conversation wasn't about the cookie.

Her boot went higher up my calf. Heat pooled between my legs and I spread them apart.

"I'm not looking for a relationship," I told her.

She nodded. "I'm good with casual."

"No expectations?"

"Not from me."

"Okay," I whispered, reluctantly taking my foot away from her so I could slide out of my seat.

I cleared my plate to the sink, but before I could turn and get Lisa's, her heat was at my back. She reached around me, setting her empty plate on top of mine. Then she pried the steak knife and fork out of my hand, dropping them into the sink with a clank.

My heart raced. My breathing stopped. My hands shook with anticipation of what she'd do next.

Slowly, deliberately, she lowered her mouth toward my neck. Her breath hit my skin first in a warm whisper before her soft lips pressed onto my bare skin.

Then came her hands, drifting slowly up my arms from my wrists. Her square fingertips glided over my forearms and the sensitive skin on the undersides of my elbows. Nerve endings ignited and singed as her trail continued up my biceps.

By the time her hands made it to my shoulders, I was trembling. I lost my balance and swayed backward into her hard chest.

The moment we collided, her movements changed. Gone was the slow, torturous caress. Her large hands gripped my shoulders before sliding palms across my collarbones. Her fingers dug into the tops of my breasts, kneading them until I was on fire.

"Lisa," I moaned, so close to coming from her lips and hands alone.

But before I reached the peak, Lisa spun me around, hoisted me up in her arms and carried me down the short hallway to my bedroom.

She tossed me onto the blue quilt and came at me with the same ferocity as she had yesterday on the couch. But this time, we savored. We worshipped. We discovered.

Lisa Manoban was a master with her hands, among other appendages. She had sensitive nipples and liked it when I tugged them between my teeth. Her hair was soft and threaded perfectly between my fingers.

And despite our first go on the couch, the woman had stamina.

Long after the sun had gone down, Lisa and I shared a big cookie. Then she got dressed and went home.

I watched from the doorway as she navigated the path home in the moonlight and laughed to myself, muffling it with a hand.

Of all the neighbors I'd had before, and there had been many, Lisa was far and away my favorite.