What I Love About You by Rachel Gibson

during her divorce. She’d been pregnant and depressed and humiliated. Instead of medication, she’d been helped with cognitive therapy. She’d learned to disassemble overwhelming problems and break them into manageable parts.
    “Charlotte doesn’t know yet.” Blake lifted a brow, and she explained as she put away groceries. “Michael’s parents thought he was getting out last year. They told Charlotte he was coming home and got her all excited.” Although why she felt compelled to explain anything to the neighbor was a mystery. “The state of Idaho had different plans, and I was the one who had to tell her that he wasn’t coming home. She cried for three days. After that, we all agreed not to say a word until it actually happens.” Which was coming up so soon it made Natalie’s stomach tight. “What else did Mabel mention?”
    He didn’t answer and she turned from putting away a jar of peanut butter. His gaze was lowered like he’d been watching her butt. She supposed it was only fair that he look at her butt since she’d looked at his button fly.
    “That you were a prom queen.” He lifted his gaze up her stomach and breasts to her face. The difference between the two of them was that he got caught and was unrepentant.
    “That was a looooong time ago.” She picked up the box of mac and cheese and tore off the top. “I think the crown is still in a box somewhere.” She pulled out the powdered cheese packet, then dumped the pasta into the water.
    “And you were a cheerleader.”
    “Yeah.” She tossed the empty blue and yellow box in the recycling bin under the sink. It fell onto the floor and she pulled out the heaping bin. “That was a lifetime ago, too.” She obviously needed a container bigger than seven gallons. She pushed it down as much as possible, but it popped back up. Before she could try again, Blake was beside her. Towering over her as he put his big boot on top of the heap. He smashed it down like a trash compactor to half the size. Natalie was impressed. It had been a long time since she’d lived with a man and she had forgotten that they came in handy sometimes. Like for carrying in groceries and compacting trash. And for other things. Like for washing her back in the shower.
    He removed his big foot and said, “She mentioned you still wear your little outfit sometimes.”
    She looked up so fast a few strands of hair swung from behind her ear and got stuck to her lip gloss. He stood close; a hand’s breadth separated the front of his sweatshirt from her breasts. She looked into his eyes and the air between them changed. It got hot, charged with sexual awareness. “Mabel said that ?”
    He shook his head without taking his gaze from hers. “No. That’s just my dirty mind.”
    Was he coming on to her? If he was, what should she do? God, it had been so long that she didn’t know anymore.
    He lifted a hand and brushed her hair from her lip. The tips of his fingers touched the corner of her mouth and cheek, and she couldn’t breathe. Literally, her breath was caught in her chest. She tried to think of something to say. Something flippant, like his touch didn’t affect her. Like hot little tingles weren’t spreading across her skin.
    His hand slid to the side of her throat, and he lightly pressed his thumb into her chin, tipping her face up. “Do you have a man in your life, Sweet Cheeks?”
    A man? She shook her head and swallowed hard, past the clog in her chest. She fought an urge to turn her face into his hand and kiss his warm palm. “I don’t date,” she managed.
    “That’s what I thought.”
    He smelled good. Like the last time she’d been this close. Like mountain air and man. Whoa. Wait. What? How did he know she didn’t date? Did she look like a loner?
    He dropped his hand and moved closer. Closer until the tips of her breasts touched the front of his shirt. “You look like a woman who needs to date.” What did that look like? She stood completely still as he