The Hunk Next Door by Debra Webb, Regan Black Read Free Book Online

She needed to realize he wasn’t a threat to her, even if he couldn’t tell her outright that he was her best asset.
    Mrs. Wilks bustled in and the scent of warm chocolate-chip cookies tickled his nose. But the scent of Abby, as she strolled past him in the narrow hall, brought his entire body to high alert. She’d let down her hair and the glossy blond mane smelled of flowers warmed by sunshine. While he didn’t understand the science behind fragrances, he appreciated the effects.
    That scent took him back to the garden behind the orphanage, where he’d first discovered the satisfaction of working with his hands.
    “Poor Abby here hadn’t heard about the Hamiltons, what with everything she’s had on her mind,” Mrs. Wilks was saying. Making herself right at home, she put the plate on the table and removed the foil, revealing a pile of thick, perfectly browned chocolate-chip cookies. Then she spotted the beer on the counter. “Tell me you have milk? Or even coffee?”
    “Both,” he said, grinning.
    “Good boy.” Mrs. Wilks beamed up at him, her steel-gray hair swinging as she turned to the chief. “Which do you prefer, Abby dear?”
    “Milk, please.”
    Mrs. Wilks arched a brow and gave a soft, speculating hum. “Your stomach must be a bother with all this extra stress.”
    When a blush crept into the chief’s cheeks, Riley tried to distract Mrs. Wilks. “Have a seat,” he encouraged, pulling out the nearest chair. Mrs. Wilks claimed the seat. Riley reached for the next chair and smiled at the chief.
    “No, thanks,” she said, obviously in police chief mode. “Mind if I look around?”
    “Abby,” Mrs. Wilks scolded, “at least have a cookie before you go investigating.”
    Riley smothered a laugh while he filled three glasses with milk. “Aside from a suitcase and my laptop, I promise you it’s just the way the Hamiltons left it.”
    “I’ve told her everything they told me,” Mrs. Wilks said. She arrowed Abby a knowing look. “She just doesn’t know how to relax.”
    Abby threw up her hands in surrender and took a seat.
    Riley joined them, taking the one remaining chair and being careful not to bump Abby’s knee with his.
    “A body gets tired of the cold,” Mrs. Wilks was saying. “If I had family in Florida, I might do the very same thing.”
    “I’m not sure I could let you do that,” Abby said, choosing a cookie. “Who would bake for me?”
    “You know your way around a kitchen, young lady, don’t even pretend. What about you?” She turned a sharp eye his way. “Do you need me to bring over a casserole?”
    He grinned at the older woman again. “I can manage. Thanks.”
    “More than beer and chips, I hope.”
    “Yes, ma’am.” He broke a cookie in two and stuffed one half into his mouth. As he chewed, he watched the way Abby dunked her cookie in her milk glass. Deliberate and methodical, he found it oddly endearing. “The cookies are perfect, Mrs. Wilks. Thanks for bringing them by.”
    “Good company makes everything better.” She looked around the kitchen. “What did the Hamiltons want you to do here?”
    “A little of this and that,” he replied. “There’s some minor repair work I’ll take care of first.”
    “That rotted wood under the sink, I hope. Abby, do you remember what a mess that was?”
    Abby bobbed her chin, her mouth full of cookie. Riley smothered a laugh. “I was just debating tile or vinyl. Any thoughts, ladies?”
    As Mrs. Wilks launched into a full report of which families on the street had made which type of upgrade, Riley caught the chief watching him.
    He arched his eyebrows and her gaze abruptly returned to the glass of milk in front of her. “Another cookie?” He nudged the plate her way.
    She shook her head and pushed back from the table.
    “You don’t have a preference on the flooring?” he asked.
    The look she sent him was cool at best. “No. You should go with whatever the owners want,” she replied, taking her glass to the