Heartbreakers: Treat Her Right / Mr November

She was his life.

Wynn and Conan were arguing again when Zack opened the screen door. He stalled, uncertain what to do as Wynn poked the bulky bruiser in the chest and threatened his life.

Ignoring most of her diatribe, Conan said, “Ha!” then flicked her earlobe, hard.

Zack’s mouth fell open, seeing the physical byplay.

Before he could say anything, Wynn lit up like a live wire, clutching at her ear. “That hurt!”

“Well so does your pointy little finger trying to bore holes in my chest.”

“Bull.” She leaned in to him, nose to nose, and deliberately gave him another, harder prod. “You can’t feel anything through that layer of rock and you know it.”

Conan rubbed his chest, opened his mouth to say God-only-knew-what, then noticed Zack. He scowled. “You’re making a spectacle of yourself in front of your neighbors, Wynonna.”

Frozen half in, half out of the door, Zack just stared. Domestic troubles? God, he didn’t want to be involved in this.

Wynn rushed forward and took the tray from him. “Just ignore Conan,” she said, “he’s a bully.”

Conan ran both hands through his blond hair, which Zack noticed wasn’t the least bit frizzy, and growled. His eyes turned red and his face blue. “Wynonna, I swear I’m gonna—”

He reached for her and Zack, without really thinking, stepped between them. The tray in Wynn’s arms wobbled, but she maintained her grip.

“Look,” Zack said, not sure if the woman would need any help or not, “this is none of my business, but—”

Wynn rudely pushed her way around him. “You’re gonna what?” she taunted Conan. “What else can you do?”

Conan reached for her again, and Zack grabbed him. “That’s enough,” he roared.

Zack hadn’t had enough sleep, he was still disturbed by the calls he’d made the night before, and he had no tolerance for petty bickering.

And he absolutely, positively, would not put up with a man hurting a woman, not even a pesky too-big neighbor woman he barely knew and who looked like she could damn well defend herself.

Silence fell. Conan, with one brow raised, stared at Zack’s hand wrapped around his thick wrist. Zack had big hands, but still, his fingers barely touched.

Conan’s gaze shifted to Wynn, and he made a wry face. “A gallant in the making?”

Wynn set the tray down and rushed to put herself between the two men, facing Zack. Her fingers spread wide on his chest, pressing, restraining although he could have easily moved her aside and they both knew it. Wedged between the two of them, she was so close to Zack he felt her breath and the heat of her body. He twitched.

Wynn stared into his face with an expression bordering on wonder, patted him, and then said with quiet sincerity, “Thank you, but Conan would never hurt me, Zack. I promise. He just likes to needle.”

Conan, still caught in Zack’s unrelenting grasp, snorted at that. But he replied easily, “She’s right, you know. I might want to swat her every now and again, but I wouldn’t hurt her.”

Swat her? Zack peered into Wynn’s large golden eyes and imagined all kinds of kinky sexual play between the two of them.

He wasn’t sure if he was disgusted or intrigued, and his indecision on the matter was unacceptable. He frowned, feeling very put upon.

Then Conan continued lazily. “Wynn, however, has never shown any such consideration. She’s been kicking my ass since we were both in diapers.”

Wynn gave Zack an apologetic nod. “It’s true. Conan is such a big lug, he’s always let me practice up on him.”

Conan tugged on his hand, and Zack, feeling numb and rather foolish, and for some damn reason, relieved, released him.

Brother and sister?

“She’s so big,” Conan continued, “she’s always looked older than her age. When she was in ninth grade, college guys were hitting on her! She needed to know how to fight off the cretins. So I’ve been her personal punching bag for longer than I care to remember.”

Still with her hands pressed to Zack’s chest, Wynn glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Not that he feels it,” she said to her brother, “regardless of how he carries on.” Facing Zack again, she explained, “A steamroller could go over Conan and he’s so thick with muscle he wouldn’t notice.”

Zack inhaled and breathed in the scents of vanilla coffee, fresh blueberry muffins, early morning dew on green grass—and Wynn. She smelled...different. Not sweet. Not exactly spicy. It was more a fresh scent, like a cool fall breeze or the forerunner to a storm. His muscles twitched again.

Damn, but this day was not going at all as planned.

And he could only blame one very big, and somehow very appealing, woman. A woman who was not only his neighbor, but still touching him, still looking at him with a mixture of tenderness, humor, and...hunger.

He’d known tall women, hell, Mick’s wife Delilah was tall. But he’d never known such a...sturdy woman. Her open hands on his chest were nearly as large as his own. Her shoulders were broad, her bones long. Unlike Delilah, Wynn wasn’t delicate.

But she was sexy.

He needed some sleep to be able to deal with the likes of her. And he needed more time.

And most of all, he needed sex, because he knew when he started getting turned on by a loud, pushy amazon, it had been far, far too long.

TWO

GATHERING HIS SCATTERED WITS, Zack looked at both Wynn and Conan, then stepped out of Wynn’s reach. “I see,” he said, for lack of anything better. His brain was all but empty of responses. This had not been a memorable morning.

Wynn fought off a smile, at his expense. “I do appreciate your consideration for my welfare, though.”

The way she said it made him feel ten times more foolish. He could see why Conan thought she needed a good swat. At the moment, he wasn’t totally averse to the idea himself.

Conan saved the awkward moment by pouring the coffee. The rich aroma of vanilla intensified, but Zack could still smell her. She’d been working and her skin was hot, dewy with her exertions.

He growled low in his throat, hating his basic response to her.

Thankfully unaware of the source of his disgruntlement, Conan said, “Sit down, Zack. You look like we’ve wrung you out already. And I have to tell you, it’s only going to get worse.”

How in the hell can it get worse? Zack accepted the coffee and seated himself in a padded chair. Conan sat across from him, Wynn on the settee. Mustering a tone of bland inquiry, Zack asked, “How so?” while eyeing the golden brown muffin, bursting with ripe blueberries, which Conan passed his way.

Nodding to his sister, who had reverted back to frowning, Conan explained, “Mom and Dad are moving. They needed somewhere to stay for two weeks and since Wynn just got this place, I convinced them she was a better choice than me.” He flashed a wide, unapologetic grin.

Wynn huffed. “Not that I don’t love my parents, but when you meet them you’ll understand why I’m considering wringing Conan’s neck.”

Zack didn’t want to meet her parents. He hadn’t even wanted to meet her. With any luck, from here on out he’d successfully avoid the Lane clan altogether.

“But hey,” Conan said, and punched Zack in the shoulder, nearly making him spill the distasteful coffee. “I like it that you wanted to protect her. Knowing she’ll have a neighbor looking out for her makes me feel better about her living alone.”

Conan had fists like sledgehammers, and not enough sense to temper his blows. The muscle in Zack’s shoulder leaped in pain. He refused to show any weakness by rubbing it.

And he refused to become Wynn’s protector, though God knew with a smart and loud mouth like hers, she’d likely need a battalion to shield her from retaliation. But before he could find words to express his thoughts, Dani appeared. She hesitated, showing unaccustomed shyness, her soft-bristled brush clutched in one hand, the other on the screen door.

Setting aside his coffee, Zack held out his hand and she skipped to him. He put her on his knee and began brushing her silky hair. “Dani, Conan is Wynn’s brother.”

Dani leaned close to his ear and whispered loudly enough for the birds in the trees to hear, “What do I call ’em?”

Wynn answered for him. “Well, neighbors can’t very well stand on formality, now can they? So, if you don’t mind us calling you Dani, you can just call us Wynn and Conan. Deal?”

Dani twisted, stuck out her hand, and said, “Deal.”

Conan laughed and enfolded the diminutive fingers with his massive paw. Muscles flexed and rolled along his arm, yet Zack couldn’t help but notice that he was very gentle.

After Wynn shook Dani’s hand, too, Dani stated, “Your hair looks funny.”

“Dani.” Her habit of speaking her mind was often humorous, but this wasn’t one of those times.

She blinked at her father uncertainly. “It doesn’t?”

It did, so what could he say? He settled on, “You know better than to be rude.”

Far from insulted, Wynn laughed out loud and shook her head so more corkscrew curls sprang wild. “It feels funny, too. Wanna see?”

Dani looked at Zack for permission, and he could only shrug. Never in his life had he known a woman who behaved as she did, so how was he supposed to know how to deal with her?

Dani reached out, nearly falling off Zack’s knee, and put her fingertips to the bouncing curls. She gave a tentative stroke, and then another. Her brow furrowed in concentration. “It’s soft.” And then to Zack, “Feel it, Daddy.”

Zack nearly choked. “Uh, no, Dani...”

Conan must have had a wicked streak, because he taunted, “Ah, go ahead, Zack. Wynonna won’t mind.”

“Wynonna will loosen your jaw if you don’t stop calling me Wynonna!”

Dani laughed. Zack was a little bemused to realize his daughter recognized the lack of threat in their repartee while he’d been alarmed by it.

“My name’s Daniella, but no one calls me that. ’Cept Dad sometimes when he’s mad.”

Wynn gave a theatrical gasp. “Your father gets mad at you?” she teased, holding one hand to her chest. “Whatever for? Why, you’re such a little angel.”

Dani shrugged. “Not all the time. Sometimes I get into mis...mis...”

“Mischief,” Zack supplied, “and don’t make me sound like an ogre to our new neighbors.”

She beamed at him. “He’s the best dad in the whole world.”

“Much better.” Zack smiled and kissed her soft plump cheek. “She has her moments, and if angels can be rowdy and rambunctious, then the description does fit.”

Conan laughed, but Wynn gave him another of those tender, intent looks. He frowned and turned away.

“You don’t really fight with Conan,” Dani told Wynn, as if Wynn might not be aware of that fact herself.

“I would never take a chance on hurting him,” Wynn boasted. Then, pretending to share a confidence, she added, “Besides, he’s my brother and I love him.”

Dani sat back against her father’s chest and crossed her arms. “I want a brother.”

Zack choked.

Conan handed him a napkin, again staving off the awkward moment. “If you want to hear the real joke about Wynn’s hair,” Conan said, “then you should know that our father is a coiffeur.”

“What’s that?” Dani asked.

“A coiffeur,” Wynn explained, “is just another word for a hairdresser.”

Again and again, they took him by surprise, Zack thought. “That’s...interesting,” he remarked, and gulped down more of the awful vanilla coffee.

Wynn chuckled. “The fact that I won’t let him touch my hair makes him crazy. Which is why I won’t let him touch it, of course. Every time he sees me, he wails like he’s in pain.”

“And when she says wails, she means wails.” Conan sipped his own coffee before setting the cup aside. “My dad is likely to be the only flaming heterosexual you’ll ever meet.”

Zack stared. Flaming heterosexual? Did these two know any normal or mundane conversational tidbits? Couldn’t they go on about the weather or something? Together, they were the strangest people he’d ever met so he had no doubt the parents had to be beyond odd as well. He kept silent.

His daughter did not.

“Does that mean hairdresser, too?” Dani asked.

Wynn quickly swallowed her bite of muffin. “No, Dani, that means he likes to dress in silk and lots of gold chains and he has this enormous diamond earring.”

Oh Lord, Zack thought, and wished he could escape.

“Our mother, on the other hand, is the original hippie. She’s into all things natural and doesn’t wear any jewelry at all except for a plain wedding band.”

“But,” Conan interjected, casting a sly look at Wynn, “she loves my father enough to let him keep her hair trimmed.”

“Daddy would have a heart attack if I asked him to do my hair now. You know that. Besides, he likes to have something to gripe at me about.”

“Does your mom’s hair look like yours?” Zack heard himself ask, curious despite himself.

“Heavens no! I got my hair from some long-deceased ancestor.”

Conan leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner. “And believe me, we’re all beyond grateful that he is long deceased.”

Wynn shoved at him. “My father’s hair is brown and sleek, and my mother’s hair is blond like Conan’s, but longer—all the way to her waist.”

Dreading the answer, Zack asked, “When are they supposed to join you?”

“Next week,” she mumbled, sounding despondent and resigned. “And I was so looking forward to living on my own.”

“You lived at home until now?” As Zack asked that, he finished brushing the tangles from Dani’s hair, smoothed it back and expertly wrapped the covered band around it, securing it in place. She bobbed her head a bit, making the ponytail bounce, then smiled and kissed him again. Zack gave her an affectionate squeeze—and noticed the silly smiles on his neighbors’ faces.

He now felt conspicuous, all because he’d fixed his daughter’s hair. It was no big deal, nothing elaborate, just a ponytail. And it wasn’t like there was someone else to do it. Anything his daughter needed, he supplied. Except female company, but he was working on that.

“No,” Wynn said, still looking too soft and female and approving, which for her was a gross contradiction. The contrast...intrigued him.

No, it did not!

“At twenty-eight,” she continued, oblivious to his inner turmoil on her femaleness, “I’ve been out of the house for a while. But I had two roommates, and they were both awful slobs. I’m sort of what you’d call...”

“Fanatical,” Conan supplied, toasting her with his coffee cup. “She likes to keep an immaculate, organized house. Drives me crazy.”

“Dad’s fatical, too,” Dani told them. “Mick and Josh tell him he’ll make a good husband for some lucky woman some day.”

“Is that right?” Amused, Conan eyed Zack.

Wynn drank more coffee, cleared her throat as if embarrassed, and finally put her cup aside. “Well, I can’t stand having things thrown just anywhere. Busy people need to be organized.”

Since Zack felt the same way, he could empathize with her. Other than Dani’s toys, which he left scattered around so Dani wouldn’t feel stifled, he liked to have a place for everything and everything in its place. He kept the house clean and once a month a service came to do a more thorough job, getting the baseboards and the ceiling and the air ducts—all the places he seldom had time to tend to.

The idea that they might have something in common was a little alarming, so he didn’t belabor the point.

Dani slid off his lap to sit beside Wynn. She situated herself in the exact same pose as the neighbor, shoulders back, spine straight, head tilted just so. Except that Dani’s legs hanging over the edge of the padded settee didn’t even come close to touching the ground, while Wynn’s not only touched, they folded so sharply her knees were practically in her face. Zack shook his head. He’d never seen legs so long. Or so nicely shaped.

Dani gave Wynn a toothy grin, then picked up her bowl of cereal and dug in.

“Conan falls into the slob category.” Wynn handed Dani a napkin almost without thought. Zack wondered if she was around children often, then decided it didn’t matter to him one iota. “Which is probably why my folks decided to spend their two weeks with me. It’s far too easy to get lost in his cluttered apartment. He keeps newspapers around for weeks, and there’s always something rotting in his refrigerator.”

Zack couldn’t stop his shudder of revulsion. Watching him, Wynn nodded in perfect accord. “It’s disgusting,” she confirmed.

To change the subject, Conan asked, “What do you do for a living, Zack?”

Both he and his sister stared at Zack with expectant expressions.

Dani answered for him, saying around a mouthful of cereal and milk, “He saves peoples. He’s a hero.”

Settling back in her seat, Wynn slowly nodded. “Mmmm. I can see that.” She eyed Zack up and down...and up again, letting her gaze linger here and there. He felt that interested gaze like a lick of fire and wanted to groan.

“Your dad,” she said, “has all the right makings of a hero. Big, muscular, handsome and kind.” And then with an impish, very intimate and inviting smile, “I’m glad he’s my neighbor.”

* * *

It was the most curious sensation, Wynn thought, as if her heart had started to boil the second she’d seen him. Then, when he’d held his daughter on his knee and patiently brushed her hair, her heart outright melted. She’d never felt anything like it. She’d never seen anyone like him.

And she was all but bowled over with a mixed jumble of emotions.

Dani herself caused part of the effect; Wynn couldn’t imagine a more adorable little girl than the one sitting primly beside her, milk on her upper lip and her riotous hair neatly contained in a bouncy ponytail. The child had an impish demeanor that proved she was both smart and precocious.

Most of the effect, though, came from Zack Grange. Wowza. She hadn’t believed one man could carry such a sizzling emotional and physical wallop, but Zack did. He stood the smallest bit taller than she, maybe an inch at most. Which meant he must stand a flat six feet. Her height, however, apparently didn’t distress him.

No, before he’d recalled himself, Zack had looked at her with male appreciation, and she liked it. A lot.

She wished she hadn’t worn the bulky sweatshirt with the stretched out neckline and the hem that hung midway down her shorts. Her upper body was as toned as the rest of her, and she wondered how he’d look at her there.

When she’d first dressed, the early morning air had carried a nip, but she was nowhere near cool now. In fact, she felt a little overheated. Maybe downright hot.

She guessed Zack to be around thirty, given the age of his daughter and his overall physique. It was his physique that had her doing more than her fair share of ogling. The man was put together just fine.

He wasn’t a muscle-bound behemoth like her brother, but lean and toned, with an obvious strength that was partly innate male, partly specialized training. His chest was wide, his shoulders wider. He had narrow hips, long straight legs and large, lean hands and feet. There was no fat on his middle, no slouch in his stance.

Light brown hair, bone straight and disheveled from being roused out of bed, complemented gentle, intense blue eyes. His brows and beard stubble were darker, his jaw hard and stubborn.

But it was when he looked at his daughter that his gorgeous blue eyes held the most impact.

Only seconds after seeing Zack, she’d wanted him. The man exuded raw sexuality tempered with gentleness and caring. A highly potent combination.

Being around him felt...comfortable, in a dozen different ways.

With an acquaintance not quite an hour long, she knew enough to respect him. She’d already learned that he loved his daughter, was a natural defender of women, and showed politeness even when rude neighbors pulled him from a much-needed sleep.

She sighed, earning a strange look from both men and Dani.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, wishing she could crawl over onto his lap now that Dani was no longer in it. But a big hulking girl like herself didn’t sit in laps. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time a man had held her. “So what title applies to your heroic deeds, Zack?”

He rubbed his hands over his tired eyes while explaining. “I’m an EMT paramedic. Dani thinks Mick, Josh and I are all heroes. Actually I believe she has Mick’s wife, Delilah, in that category now, too.”

“They’re heroes,” Dani insisted with a child’s love and devotion.

And Zack responded, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, sweetheart.”

“So you drive an ambulance, huh?” Conan leaned forward with interest. “Who do you work for?”

“The fire department. Josh is a fireman there. We’ve known each other forever.”

Wynn tipped her head, recalling the other name he had mentioned. “And Mick? What does he do?”

“Mick is a cop. His wife, Delilah Piper-slash-Dawson is a—”

“Novelist!” Conan finished for him, surging to the edge of his seat with excitement. “Are you kidding me? You know Delilah Piper?”

“Don’t forget the ‘slash-Dawson’ part or Mick will have your head.” Zack grinned, showing even white teeth and a dimple in his left cheek. A dimple! Wynn’s melting heart thumped so hard, she nearly missed the rest of Zack’s explanation. “Since she and Mick married, he’s been understanding about her name already being well known. He’s proud of her career, but insistent that those of us who are familiar remember she’s a married woman now.”

“Possessive, is he?” Wynn asked.

And Conan said, “Are you nuts? She’s Delilah Piper.” He snorted. “I’d be possessive, too.”

“You always are,” Wynn said with a shake of her head. Her brother drove his present girlfriend crazy with his possessive, overbearing ways.

“I take it you’re a fan?” Zack asked.

“I just finished her newest. That scene at the river was incredible.”

“I can get your books signed for you if you want.”

Wynn watched in disgust as her muscle-bound brother looked ready to get up and dance a jig. She glanced at Dani, and they shared a woman-to-woman smile. Dani even shook her head and rolled her big blue eyes, causing Wynn to chuckle.

While the men continued to work out the details of the books, Wynn turned to Dani. “So you’re close to Josh and Mick and Delilah?”

“She wants to be called Del, only Mick won’t. I think it’s jus’ to tease her.”

“And Mick and Josh?”

“They’re fun. Josh has lots of ladies, but he says none of ’em are prettier than me so he can’t marry ’em.”

“Smart man.”

“Yeah.” She nodded with a look of pity for the poor unwed Josh and the not-pretty-enough women. “Dad wants to get married, too, but he’s gotta find a wife first.” Dani scrunched up her face, studying Wynn.

Wynn squirmed under such close scrutiny. From a child! Luckily, Dani whispered to her father that she had to go in to the potty. After she went in, Zack returned to his conversation about Del Piper, keeping Conan enthralled.

Wynn looked at Zack. So, he wanted a wife, huh? Or was that something Dani had misconstrued?

How in the world was it that he hadn’t already remarried? A man like Zack probably had women by the dozens. But then...she rethought that and shook her head at herself. Zack was very dedicated to his daughter, and she knew EMTs worked long shifts, sometimes up to sixty hours a week. That wouldn’t leave him much time for dating, much less cultivating a lasting relationship.

He must have felt her gaze, for he glanced at her while Conan waxed poetic about Ms. Piper’s remarkable talent. Their gazes met and held and Zack frowned. He glanced away, then back again. Wynn blinked at him, feeling soft and hot and excited.

She stared, knew she stared, and couldn’t seem to help herself. Zack shifted, glaring at her then crossing one ankle over a knee.