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Love On Her Terms
Jennifer Lohmann
If only attraction always led to happily ever after…Mina Clements wants to grab life with both hands. With a fixer-upper and a fresh start in Montana, the graphic novelist is ready to do just that. Plus, having handsome handyman Levi Pardo next door could be a bonus… But even though sparks sizzle when Levi helps with her renovations, the widower’s in no hurry to fall in love again. Still, he’s much more than the neighbour who looks good swinging a hammer. He’s a man she wants to trust with her biggest secret—one that can either bring them closer or wreck the new beginning they both need.
If only attraction always led to happily ever after...
Mina Clements wants to grab life with both hands. With a fixer-upper and a fresh start in Montana, the graphic novelist is ready to do just that. Plus, having handsome handyman Levi Pardo next door could be a bonus... But even though sparks sizzle when Levi helps with her renovations, the widower’s in no hurry to fall in love again. Still, he’s much more than the neighbor who looks good swinging a hammer. He’s a man she wants to trust with her biggest secret—one that can either bring them closer or wreck the new beginning they both need.
Mina couldn’t hear over the beating of her heart and the rush of blood in her ears.
“Are you okay?” Levi said, his forehead creased in confusion over her sudden change of behavior.
“I’m fine.” Her voice sounded breathy and disjointed to her ears, but he only nodded.
Levi’s gaze had become intense with emotion during the time they’d been sitting on the couch. Intent had softened his jaw and, she saw as he set both their bowls on the ice cream table, his shoulders. As he sat back up, the coming kiss dulled the world around them.
He leaned in to her, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
“I’m sure,” she reassured him, her lie failing miserably.
But Levi didn’t seem to notice her failure. Or, if he did, he didn’t care. Every skin cell burned as he trailed his finger along her jawline. The panic beating inside her couldn’t hide the intensity with which she wanted his lips pressed against hers. The fear didn’t stop her from leaning in to him, from meeting him halfway.
Dear Reader (#u7bdb9760-fbfd-5cc9-b506-7280383145af),
Love on Her Terms is one of those books that was born from many places yet somehow came together perfectly. There’s no question this book is influenced by the many times I’ve watched the 1966 movie A Man and a Woman (my mom’s favorite). And for years I’d wanted to write about a young woman who moves in next door to a cranky widower. She brings new sparkle to his life, but she has a chronic illness, and my hero’s not sure he can handle it. Of course, the heroine’s illness kept eluding me. Then while ruminating on a different novel where the heroine has HIV, a friend asked on Twitter if there were any heterosexual romances where one character has HIV. I knew then that I had to put the two ideas together! Sometimes—okay, often—authors need a friendly push.
My heroine, Mina, is also a graphic novelist so I can’t resist recommending Scott McCloud’s Understanding Comics: The Invisible Art. It’s a wonderful exploration of the art form whether you’ve read comics and graphic novels or are new to the format entirely. Some of his theories made my jaw drop in awe. And seriously, if you do pick up the book and want to talk about it—shoot me an email! And for a real-life love story similar to Love on Her Terms, read Blue Pills: A Positive Love Story by Frederik Peeters. It’s Peeters’s graphic novel memoir about falling in love with an HIV-positive woman, who also has an HIV-positive son. As a librarian and book lover, suggesting books is one of my favorite pastimes, and these are two good ones!
Love on Her Terms was a powerful book for me to write and I hope it’s just as powerful for you to read.
Enjoy,
Jennifer
Love on Her Terms
Jennifer Lohmann
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
JENNIFER LOHMANN is a Rocky Mountain girl at heart, having grown up in southern Idaho and Salt Lake City. When she’s not writing or working as a public librarian, she wrangles two cats and a flock of backyard chickens (the dog is better behaved). She currently lives in Durham, North Carolina. She has one published comic strip, which you can find in a collection called The Durham Comics Project.
To Amy, Kirill and Yuri.
Thanks for all your support over the
past couple years and for bringing comics
and drawing into my life.
Contents
COVER (#ud4c1f3b8-b1b6-5457-b894-f9bf35938a49)
BACK COVER TEXT (#u683cfcbb-91b4-5fe8-801a-471bc5fc6d21)
INTRODUCTION (#u8d9eff5e-e5ff-51ff-8474-a58bbc810cc6)
Dear Reader
TITLE PAGE (#uac375ed4-21ae-5546-ab20-554fccb495c0)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR (#uabd21910-039e-53d4-ad79-a3b6144ee23c)
DEDICATION (#u68effae7-ed3d-538a-904c-6bf4d9bae0ea)
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
EXTRACT (#litres_trial_promo)
COPYRIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#u7bdb9760-fbfd-5cc9-b506-7280383145af)
THE SOUND OF a heavy vehicle pulling into the driveway next door broke Levi Pardo’s concentration, forcing him to look up from the newspaper spread out on the kitchen table. A small, ridiculously young-looking woman was hopping out of the driver’s seat of a truck onto the narrow strip of grass between her driveway and his property. She’d parked too close to the lawn, which didn’t surprise him. He was amazed she could see over the dash and touch the pedals at the same time.
He looked back down at the horoscope he’d been reading, some bullshit about expressing what you’re feeling or else suffer the consequences. He didn’t believe in astrology and found the Missoulian’s particularly annoying, but he still read two signs, Taurus and Cancer, every day. Habit, after years of marriage. Even if Kimmie wasn’t around to care.
The woman moving in next door sure had a lot of energy, he thought, taking a sip of lukewarm, slightly oily coffee. He preferred to drink his coffee with flavored creamer, but he’d run out two days ago and hadn’t yet made it to the store. Through his kitchen windows he saw the woman bound to the back of the truck and, with more power than he expected from someone so small, throw the door up and open. When a car drove up and parked along the curb, the woman leaped across the lawn like a pronghorn to greet her new arrivals.
Levi needed another sip of caffeine just to keep up with her. Maybe the process of unloading everything from the back of the truck would slow her down.
He shifted his chair over a couple of inches for a better angle. The house next door had been empty for almost two years and, as far as he knew, was as run-down on the inside as it was on the outside. It had good bones, though.
So did she, he thought, as the woman turned her head and faced his window. Long, dark bangs and a fringe of hair around her chin framed high cheekbones, a sharply pointed chin and a nose that looked like something out of a marble statue in those travel books about Greece that Kimmie used to bring home, back when she was feeling good and planning their adventures. Before he’d seen his neighbor’s face full-on, he would have described her as cute. Short women were cute. Now beautiful was the only appropriate adjective.
Levi shook that thought out of his mind and turned back to his morning paper. He was about as interested in short women as he was in astrology.
* * *
TWO HOURS LATER Levi wiped down the kitchen counter, and, with the drape of a washcloth over the faucet, the second part of his Sunday ritual was done. Paper, first. Clean the house, second. It was midsummer, so he still had outdoor chores to do. He put sunscreen on his face and neck, covered his hair with a ratty Broncos cap, shoved his sunglasses on and went out to his garage for the lawn mower.
His ancient lawn mower, more Frankenstein’s monster than anything resembling the machines currently lining the entrances of home-improvement stores, clanged as he pushed it down the driveway.
Even with his sunglasses and ball cap, he had to squint against the harsh sun.
He was leaning over to start the mower when voices caught his attention.
“I just don’t get why you had to move here, of all places,” an older woman’s voice said, loudly enough that Levi could hear her, even though he couldn’t see anyone when he looked around. He could picture the woman inspecting the neighborhood of old bungalows in varying states of repair with her hands on her hips and a slight sneer on her lips.
Though Levi couldn’t understand what there was in this neighborhood to sneer at.
“Because the University of Montana offered me a job.” A younger woman’s voice this time, probably the bubbling one he’d seen driving the moving truck.
“So did the University of Richmond. If you had accepted their offer, you’d be near home.” The older woman’s voice again. Maybe the woman’s mother. They must have been standing just on the other side of the moving truck.
Levi let go of the lawn mower’s pull cord and folded his arms, giving in to the eavesdropping. He wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to get to know his neighbor, without the burden of going over and introducing himself.
“Which is exactly why I accepted the Montana job,” the woman said, too bright and cheery for someone who was arguing with her mother. “Montana. Just the word conjures up adventure. Moose. Grizzly bears. Cowboys.”
“Referring to grizzly bears as an adventure doesn’t make me feel any more confident about your decision. Grizzly bears kill people,” the older woman said.
“So does sitting, but you didn’t offer to drive the U-Haul while I rode a bicycle alongside,” the younger woman said smartly, while Levi bit back a smile.
“Don’t talk back to your mother,” a man said, a snap to his voice, which softened when he spoke again. “She’s worried about you is all. We both are. If something were to happen, you’ll be so far from home.”
“Franklin married the most organized and efficient woman on earth. If something happens to either of you, she’ll have flowers delivered to your room before you even get to the hospital.” A laugh underpinned the woman’s voice, though her humor had a sharp edge. Hidden, like the lid on a can of chili opened with a rusty can opener—familiar and domestic and safe, until you sliced a finger because you weren’t paying attention.
“You know it’s not us your mother is worried about,” the man said, the sharpness of his voice less concealed than his daughter’s. He sounded as if he’d cut himself on that can of humor before. “If something were to happen to you...”
“This is Montana, Mom, not the jungles of the Amazon. I’ll be fine. Promise. There are good hospitals here. And my health has been good for years.”
Levi shook his head. He shouldn’t be eavesdropping, especially not on conversations involving hospitals. Resolving to return to his decision that he wasn’t interested in short women, he gripped the pull cord and yanked until the ancient motor turned over, drowning out the conversation next door.
* * *
THE PROBLEM, LEVI THOUGHT, as he slipped a Pardo and Saupp Construction T-shirt over his head while looking out the window at the house next door, was that his new neighbor was always outside. It was hard to ignore a woman who seemed to think every beverage should be drunk on her front porch.
This evening, as she had for the past two weeks, she sat in the rocking chair with her feet up on the railing and a coffee cup in hand. The hems of her loose cotton shorts gapped. If he were at a different angle, he could follow the line of her skin down to her panties. She had nice legs. Not overly long, but shapely. He had no interest in women with thin legs.
She set her cup down and stretched her hands over her head. Her shirt lifted, and a little line of skin appeared between the elastic waistband of her plaid shorts and the bottom of her T-shirt. It was the type of movement he imagined her doing first thing in the morning, as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and welcomed the day. Intimate. Personal.
And he was staring out his window at her like a creep.
Levi jerked at the hem of his shirt, as if the movement could do anything to erase the image of his young neighbor with hair mussed by a long day. Not that that particular mental image was so bad, but he also imagined his hand slipping under the back of her shirt, her skin warm and soft on his cool palm and a glimpse of her face as she looked over her shoulder and smiled at him.
He reached up and closed the blinds.
He had to pick up his niece for soccer practice. Since he’d taken over coaching her youth soccer team two years ago, watching those girls tear up the field, fight, celebrate, fail and succeed had become the highlight of his fall. Solstice, his niece, seemed to have grown another three inches over the summer and would be all limbs. Helping her figure out how to manage all the new length in her arms and legs was a challenge he looked forward to.
* * *
THE NEXT FRIDAY, Levi climbed into his truck and looked next door with resignation. If he didn’t want to watch his neighbor move about his life, he had to learn to ignore her better. That and keep his kitchen blinds closed. Actually, all the blinds on this side of the house. Today she had come home from work, disappeared only long enough to change into shorts and grab a glass of what looked like iced tea. Now the ice in her tea was melting as it sat in the sun on her front porch while she was elbow deep in soil, shoving mums into the dirt. When she leaned forward, she stretched like a cat, her back long and her ass high in the air.
God, he definitely had to learn how not to watch her, because he didn’t want to shutter his entire house. He liked the sunlight coming in through the windows, especially the afternoon summer sun. The big, south-facing windows were one of the reasons he’d bought this house.
He shoved the gearshift into Reverse, looked over his shoulder with barely a glance at his neighbor’s ass, backed out of the driveway and sped down the street.
