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“Oh, no, you’re not getting the best of me. Not this time.”
Maddie Summers aimed the knife at her rival.
“I’ve had just about all I’m going to take from you.”
She glanced across the kitchen table, then she licked her lips.
“Phil, you’re hard to resist,” she purred.
Maddie lowered the blade, intent on making the first cut.
“I’ll just eat the whole damned thing.” She sighed. “Mr. Conroy won’t get a bite.”
She tossed the butter knife down on the table next to Phil, the nickname for her favourite bakery treat, a crumb-topped pound cake, Philly Cream Cheese Loaf.
An oldies song drifted by her ears, its familiar melody a signal that she had a cell phone call. She recognised the number immediately. It was her neighbour from the other end of the block.
“Hi, Lucille. What’s doing?”
“That’s what I want to know. Did you meet our new neighbour, Mr. Conroy?”
“Just saw his car in the driveway. I figured I’d go over there now and bring him one of my welcome-to-the-neighbourhood goodie baskets.”
“Mmm... With that pound cake in it?”
Maddie imagined Lucille licking her lips. She grinned in response to the mental picture.
“You’re a good neighbour, Maddie.”
“Well, I hope Mr. Conroy thinks so. You know, I can’t make sense of all those crazy hours he works.”
“Mr. Conroy works at Republic Airport. He’s a pilot.”
Maddie glanced outside. Conroy’s car was still in the driveway. She looked over at Phil, sitting on her kitchen table. The urge to take a bite was strong.
“Gotta run. Otherwise, Mr. Conroy’s basket will be light. I just may eat Phil.” Maddie grinned.
She finished packing Mr. Conroy’s goodies.
Grabbing the basket, she walked outside into the bright, May sunshine, ready to do her neighbourly duty.
A few minutes later, Maddie stood outside Mr. Conroy’s front door.
She peeked through the window but didn’t see anyone inside.
She was about to put her finger on the doorbell again when it occurred to her that she might be disturbing Mr. Conroy’s sleep. Maddie spied a picnic table under the shaded carport. She walked over to it and placed the basket there.
When she turned around, her nose collided with white cotton and a delicious odour, like citrus, combined with the smell of clothes dried outside in the sun. Her eyes drifted upwards, settling on a masculine chin. Beard-shadowed and angular, the only thing that softened such a strong jaw was the small dimple set dead centre.
“Oh, excuse me. I—I didn’t think anyone was at home.”
“That’s all right.” The man grinned. He pointed at the basket. “What’s that?”
Maddie couldn’t tear her eyes from him. He was tall—over six feet. The T-shirt her nose had bumped against earlier stretched across a wide, muscular chest.
A silver and gold watch gleamed against the tanned skin of his arms. She had a ‘thing’ for a man’s arms. A fine smattering of dark hairs lined his, the play of muscle in his forearms prominent.
His feet were bare—nice long, narrow feet.
“Cat got your tongue?” He smiled, revealing a mouth full of white, even teeth.
Maddie’s hormones, the ones she thought had deserted her fifty year old body, returned with a vengeance. The little nubbin of flesh nestled between her thighs quivered.