Sorry I missed you. I’m leaving for a few days for work, but I have your plate. Call me to discuss my ransom demands.
There was a phone number, but no name. However, she didn’t have to be psychic to know the strong, bold handwriting belonged to Asher. It was confident, sexy, and the whole darn note was oh so tempting.
Exactly like the man.
Four days ago, after her stop at Lift Your Spirit, she’d fumed through lunch with her mom and Glory, then made an impromptu visit to Mae’s house on the way home that turned into dinner, a movie with Ian, and girl talk over wine after her godson went to bed. She’d come home after midnight to find the yellow paper taped to her door and was disappointed to have missed him. Since then, she’d reread his note a dozen times, a smile tugging at her lips every time.
She’d resisted calling him so far, but her willpower was wearing thin. On the one hand, she didn’t want to encourage him. On the other, she wanted him bad enough to encourage the hell out him. He’d been right—the insane attraction went both ways.
The clock on her alarm clock ticked to 10:34 p.m. as her finger hovered over Asher’s name in her contact list. It was nothing more than a phone call. She could handle a friendly conversation with her neighbor. Better than face to face, right?
Right.
He’d said he’d be gone a few days, and tomorrow was Thursday. If she waited any longer to call, he’d be back and standing at her front door.
Or she’d be at his. If that happened, all bets were off.
The moment she touched the screen to make the connection, her heart rate doubled.
“Hello?”
The gravelly rumble of his voice over the line robbed her of her breath. Honor managed a quick inhale as an involuntary smile curved her lips. The question in his greeting meant her name hadn’t registered on his caller ID.
“I won’t pay ransom without proof of life,” she demanded. Or tried to. It was kind of hard to sound badass when she was smiling.
It only took about two seconds before his chuckle filled her ear. “Honor.”
Happiness warmed his sexy voice and strummed desire deep in her core. Well, damn. This wasn’t much better than face to face—and worse, she didn’t have the option of reaching out to touch.
That’s the point, dummy. Keep your hands off your neighbor.
“I gave up hope you’d call,” he said.
“Well, it is just a plate,” she teased.
“Oh, it’s so much more than a plate.”
It was an open invitation to see her again. While watching him walk across the street the other night, she’d declared her subconscious a genius. But to acknowledge that with him right now would be too encouraging. Even so, she was tempted.
The sound of rustling sheets sent her gaze back to the clock on her nightstand. “Am I calling too late? Did I wake you?” She wasn’t completely used to her new schedule, so it still seemed early to her.
“It’s all good. I have a sunrise shoot in the morning, but haven’t been able to fall asleep yet.”
Oh, boy.
That brought a familiar fantasy to the surface. Asher in bed. Shirtless. Covers riding low.
“The one good thing about a three a.m. wake up call is I’ll be home before noon,” he added.
“Three a.m.? That’s less than five hours from now. I should let you go,” she said, though genuinely reluctant to do so.
“Hell no. I want to hear your voice.”
Those words had her fighting a giddy grin while snuggling down into her pillows. He might not be able to see her, but he’d definitely hear it if she let it loose. “Where’s your shoot?”
“Pike’s Peak. I’m doing the photos for a new sales brochure for a local climbing school.”
“I love that area. Do you climb, too, or just stand back and take the pictures?”