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A minute later he was skipping back into the room and wiping his wet hands on the front of his shirt.

Whatever. I gave up. The kid marched to his own beat, and there was nothing that was going to change that.

“Let’s go, guys.” I nodded at the door.

Herding the boys out the door, I caught the look of disappointment on Joy’s face. I hated I put it there, but she was better off.

“I’m still hungry,” JJ grumbled.

“I’ll take you to McDonald’s.”

That perked him up.

Now that I knew what I was feeding them, I just had to figure out where the hell we were sleeping tonight.

The clubhouse wasn’t an option. Not with three kids. McKenna’s, maybe?

I wasn’t sure, but wherever it was, it couldn’t be there.

Not with Joy right next door, being sweet to my nephews, and giving me ideas I had no business having about her.

Chapter Three

Joy

He was back.

And he was shirtless.

I took a sip of my steaming coffee, leaned back in the papasan chair I’d bought off Marketplace for twenty bucks, kicked my feet up on the balcony railing, and continued to enjoy the view.

I didn’t bother to pretend I wasn’t staring at him.

What was the point?

He came and went all evening, hauling truckloads of his stuff into the apartment next to mine, and somewhere between trip number three and trip number four, he’d lost his shirt.

Not that I was complaining.

Not. At. All.

‘Cause, oh boy… I was thoroughly enjoying the sight of his muscles flexing as he lifted box after box out of the bed of a newer black F-150 truck. I wasn’t a car girl, but even I could admit the truck was pretty badass. That went for the driver, too.

My eyes raked down the expanse of his sculpted chest, and I sighed. He was too hot.

Like, hot HOT!

It wasn’t fair.

It was also unfortunate that he couldn’t stand me.

Although I wasn’t exactly sure why. It wasn’t like he knew me or I knew him.

Since meeting him a couple of months ago, I think we’d had maybe three conversations, and calling them conversations was pushing it.

I’d say hello or ask how he was doing because I was a polite bitch like that, and he’d grunt and walk off, leaving me staring after him, wondering what the hell his problem was.

I frowned into my mug. Who gave a shit what he thought, anyway.