Chapter 1: The Button That Started It All

Jack wiped the sweat off his brow as he stepped out of his truck, the summer sun high and brutal. Landscaping in this heat wasn't ideal, but the job paid well—and he liked the view. Not just the yards he worked on, but the house across the street. Her house.

Penny's.

The woman had become an accidental routine for him. Every other morning, she'd emerge from her house in some curve-hugging ensemble—watering plants, checking the mailbox, or walking her tiny dog in slow laps that seemed designed to tease.

She was mesmerizing. A full-bodied goddess with a face that didn't need makeup and a laugh that stuck in his head. And that morning? She stepped out wearing a white blouse that looked one size too small.

Jack almost forgot he was holding a shovel.

"Morning, Jack," Penny called across the street, her voice light, syrupy, and far too casual for how she looked.

"Morning," he said, trying to play it cool while his eyes dropped for a second—to that open button that refused to stay closed right above her cleavage.

Penny noticed. Of course she did.

She walked across the street, barefoot on the pavement like it didn't burn. Her hips swayed just enough, and Jack swallowed hard.

"You've been busy this week," she said, stopping a few feet away.

He shrugged, eyes trained on her face now—mostly. "Trying to make some money before fall hits. You know, adult things."

She laughed. "And here I thought you were doing it just to make my mornings a little brighter."

Jack blinked. Was she flirting? Or just naturally that smooth?

"Well, if that's a perk, I won't complain," he said, grinning.

Penny tilted her head, amused. "Careful. That kind of charm could get you in trouble."

He leaned in slightly, voice lower. "With who?"

She met his gaze with quiet challenge. "Depends who's listening."

Jack swore the air between them thickened. Her blouse shifted slightly as she crossed her arms, pushing her breasts up—not on purpose, but the result was... criminal.

Penny glanced down and laughed softly. "This top used to fit," she said, tugging at the fabric in mock frustration. "Now it's just decoration."

"I wasn't going to say anything," Jack replied, voice rougher than he intended.

Her eyes sparkled. "But you looked."

"Would've taken a saint not to."

Penny paused, then uncrossed her arms and gestured toward her front porch. "You want water? Or lemonade?"

It was innocent enough. Maybe.

He followed her, pulse jumping with every step.

Her house smelled like jasmine and clean linen. The kitchen was cool, shaded, and full of soft light. She handed him a glass of lemonade, her fingers brushing his.

"You live alone?" he asked, then quickly added, "Not trying to be nosey."

"No, it's fine. I do. For a few years now."

Jack nodded. "That why you flirt so much with the guy cutting lawns?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I flirt?"

He smirked. "You're doing it now."

Penny turned away, clearly enjoying this game. "Maybe I just like talking to someone who doesn't bore me."

Jack stepped a little closer. "And maybe I like being looked at the way you do."

She didn't deny it.

"I have to say," he said slowly, "that shirt... it's dangerous."

Penny glanced down, fingers teasing the top button. "You think I wore it by accident?"

"No," he said, voice dropping. "I think you knew exactly what it would do."

She stepped around the counter, closer than before. Her perfume was warm, inviting. She didn't touch him, but she didn't need to.

"Maybe I just wanted to see how smooth you are, Jack."

He breathed out through his nose. "You want a demonstration?"

She chuckled. "Down, boy. You still have work to do."

He grinned. "So do you. That blouse isn't going to contain itself forever."

She let out a short laugh, then placed her hand lightly on his chest. "Maybe next time you stop by, I'll be wearing something worse."

"Worse?" he echoed.

"Smaller," she whispered. "Or... nothing at all."

Jack's throat tightened. "I'm going to be cutting your neighbor's lawn tomorrow. Around noon."

Penny smiled, eyes locked on his. "Then I'll be on my porch. Shirt optional."