All the Way (Romancing Manhattan 1)

She stops when she sees me and glances around like she’s not quite sure how she got here.

“You have a pretty voice,” I say kindly.

“Thanks,” she says, and shrugs one shoulder. She’s tall, but I don’t know kids well enough to know if she’s tall for her age. Her eyes are sky blue, standing out against her olive skin and dark hair. “It’s my favorite musical.”

I nod, smiling. “Mine too.”

“Is that your house?” she asks, pointing behind me.

“It is,” I confirm. “Where do you live?”

“Over there,” she says with a sigh, pointing to the house next to mine. “But ours doesn’t have a pool or a playhouse like yours.”

I tilt my head to the side, watching her. “You must have had a look around, since I don’t think you can see all of that from your house.”

She shrugs one shoulder again. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Gabby!” A man comes running down the beach, a scowl on his face. “You know this isn’t our beach. You can’t just run off like that.”

Gabby rolls her eyes and then turns back to him, and as he gets closer, I immediately recognize him.

Finn Cavanaugh.

“I’m right here,” she says.

“Hey,” he says to me, and offers me a small smile. “Sorry if she was bothering you.”

Gabby rolls her eyes again, and I can’t help but laugh a little. “She’s not bothering me at all. We were talking about musicals.”

His lips twitch, and I’m reminded just how handsome Finn is. Scratch that. Not handsome.

Fucking hot.

Just my luck, he’s my neighbor.

Which I knew, I just forgot.

“How are you feeling?” he asks as Gabby twirls in a circle and dances away to sing and dance some more.

“Better,” I reply. “Not fantastic, but I’m finally rid of the crutches and cane, so I’ll take it.”

“You look good,” he says, and then clears his throat. “Any issues?”

Oh, you know, my parents are dead and have left me with a mess to clean up all by myself, my leg is killing me, and I’m pretty sure I lost my career, but nothing major.

“No, I’m good.”

He watches me for a moment and then nods. His hands are in his pockets the same way they were in his office two months ago, but this time he’s not wearing a suit. No, he’s in a red T-shirt and black cargo shorts with no shoes.

I had no idea the casual look could be sexier than the suit, but here we are.

“Your daughter is beautiful.”

He grins and glances at Gabby, then turns back to me. “She’s my niece. She’s staying with me for about a month.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

He frowns and looks down, and I feel like I’ve said the wrong thing, but the moment passes and he calls over to Gabby, “It’s about time for your horse-riding lesson, Gabs. We should go.”

“Fine,” she replies with a heavy sigh, and takes off running toward his house.

“She doesn’t like horses?” I ask.

“She does, she’s just been difficult lately, so very little makes her particularly happy. It’s a long story.”

“Well, I don’t want to keep you.” I step back and offer him a smile. “Oh, before you go, it finally clicks as to why you represented my parents. You’re the neighbor.”

“I’ve spent the past five summers here,” he confirms. “I liked your parents very much. Your dad asked me to update his will about two years ago.”

I nod. “Makes sense. Have a good day.”

“You too, London.”

And with that, he turns and jogs down the beach back to his own house, which is only about a hundred yards from mine. His shoulders are ridiculously broad, especially from behind.

And speaking of behinds, his ass is something to write home about.

Or something to grip on to while he fucks a girl silly.

I clear my throat and shake my head as I walk back toward my house. I must be feeling better if I’m undressing the sexy neighbor with my eyes. I’m not irritated with him anymore for asking me out on that day at his office. That doesn’t mean that it wasn’t inappropriate. Because it was.

But on a scale of one to house fires on the life-altering scale, that would be a negative fourteen.

I walk up the sandy path to the house, brush my feet clean, and walk inside through the screened sun porch to the kitchen. I brewed some iced tea this morning, so I pour myself a glass, add some lemon, and carry it with me to the library, where I’ve been working all morning on sorting books.

Mom loved to read. She has to have more than a thousand books in here, everything from outdated encyclopedias to paperback romance novels. Thrillers, true crime, interior design, and biographies are in there too.

And pretty much everything else.

I remember when we’d come here in the summer, I’d be playing at the beach or in the pool with friends, and Mom would be on the sun porch with a book and a glass of tea, absorbed in another world, but ready for us in case we needed anything.