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how. “Oh shit.” She climbed over a section of crumpled wire fencing and burst through a thick tangle of vegetation into a scene of mayhem and hysteria.

The new neighbor charged toward Elijah and flung his hands in the donkey’s face. “Shoo. Get out.”

Elijah reared, eyes rolling, ears pinned back. Abby grabbed a stout stick and rushed to defend her aunt’s traumatized donkey. “Stop! You’re scaring him.”

Bawling in terror, Elijah veered around the man’s waving arms and leaped over the crumpled wire fence. Georgia—all thirty pounds of short, snarling protection—stood between Abby and the crazy neighbor.

This mean man would not be getting any of the secret-family-recipe pound cake.

Holding the stick out like a sword, Abby snatched Georgia up one-handed and held her close. While she and the dog both trembled with reaction, Abby glared at her aunt’s new neighbor. “What is wrong with you? You scared that poor donkey half to death.”

The stupid neanderthal crossed his muscled arms in front of his wide chest. “Me? You’re asking what’s wrong with me? That big moose knocked me down!”

“Moose? Elijah is just a baby! He would never—”

“He stole my granola bar!”

“He stole…what?”

The man glanced at her stick. Like a warrior calculating his advantage in an armed conflict, he advanced, his expression fierce and his blue eyes so wild she could see the whites all around. “Your baby—who is the size of a moose, by the way—came onto my property, knocked me down, bit me on the ass, and stole a granola bar from my back pocket.”

Georgia trembled in Abby’s arms and growled in promised retribution should the man come close enough for her to reach.

Abby clutched the dog tighter. “I’m sorry if he hurt you. But you didn’t have to scare him.”

“Your ass is fine. Mine’s the one that’s been wounded.” He lunged forward and wrenched the stick from her hand, then tossed it aside, ignoring Georgia’s escalating growl. “And yet you’re planning to attack me with a stick?”

A hysterical giggle tickled the back of Abby’s throat. She bit her lips and patted Georgia. Laughing in the face of an animal-hating psychopath—maybe not the best move. “Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry. I hope your…” She smothered an irreverent snort. “I hope your ass will recover.”

His lips twitched, a quickly stifled smile. “I guess it will, eventually.” He let the smile have its way, and it transformed his face from surly to sexy. Straight white teeth and deep blue eyes contrasted with deeply tanned skin. His sun-bleached brown hair hadn’t been combed this morning; he looked like a man who’d just tumbled out of bed and wouldn’t mind getting right back in, given sufficient motivation.

Not that she was interested in providing any such motivation. Hadn’t she learned her lesson? Hadn’t losing everything—her job, her self-respect, and the child she’d come to love—hadn’t that experience taught her anything?

It most certainly had. She was done with men. Done.

He crossed unfairly muscular arms over unfairly toned abs. “Enjoying the view?”

Her face heated. “Well enough.” She couldn’t deny that she’d been staring. But her appreciation of his well-developed form was purely academic.

“Only fair, I guess.” He swept an appreciative glance from her bare feet to her heated cheeks. His blue eyes shining with humor, he trapped her gaze in his. “I bought this place for the view, but I didn’t know until recently what a bargain I was getting.”

“Oh?” She glanced down at her dirt-smeared attire, a getup not likely to inspire such a flattering comment. Had he seen her yesterday with her robe gaping open? Or worse… Had he seen her skinny-dipping last night?

Nah. It would be impossible to see through that thick hedge. As usual, Abby was letting her anxiety take over her mind and churn out scenarios of disaster. Disasterizing, Reva called Abby’s newfound tendency to imagine the worst possible outcome and then dwell on it.

Georgia wiggled to get down, and Abby obliged. The dog toddled over and sniffed the guy’s boots, then the hem of his jeans. Tail wagging, she returned to Abby and sat.

“Oh.” Georgia had introduced herself; Abby should do the same. Without Georgia in her arms, Abby became uncomfortably aware of her unbound breasts thinly covered by the sloppy tank top, but etiquette demanded that she step forward and offer her hand. “I’m Abby. This is my aunt’s place, but I’m in charge for the summer while she attends a summer internship to—”

Abby cut herself off. She was babbling, giving too much information that he didn’t care to hear. Another symptom of the overwhelming anxiety that had plagued her after one poor decision had derailed her entire life.

She tried again to act more like a normal person and less like a semihysterical nincompoop. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

He took her hand and smiled into her eyes. “I’m Quinn. Thanks for the welcome, unconventional as it was.”

His touch ignited something inside her: a tiny flame she thought had been extinguished. A flame that needed to stay extinguished until she gained some control over her own life. She withdrew her hand. “I’d better get back.”

She hobbled barefoot over the stick-covered ground toward the crumpled fence. Without the flood of adrenaline that had propelled her here, the skinned-up soles of her bare feet flinched at every step.

His hand at her elbow offered support. “Are you okay?”

She smiled up at him. “Yep, yep, yep. I always run around barefoot in briars. You should see the soles of my feet. Tough as shoe leather.” Her mind cringed at her runaway mouth. Shut up. Shut. Up.

He escorted her to the fence and helped her step over. Georgia slipped through a gap underneath.

“I’m very sorry that Elijah trespassed onto your property and knocked you down. I owe you a granola bar.”

He grinned. “Chocolate chip, please.”

From their respective sides of the fence, Abby stretched the crumpled wire while Quinn straightened the bent metal posts. Working together, they reattached a few fence clips, but most had been lost to the dirt. “This should hold for now,” she said. “I’ll fix it

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