Neighborly Complications (Stories of Serendipity #1) (3 page)

BOOK: Neighborly Complications (Stories of Serendipity #1)
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“Yes?” She finally said, after waiting for him to speak. Her expression was guarded.

“I’m sorry. I wanted to re-introduce myself. I could tell you were embarrassed by yesterday, and I wanted to come by and try to start fresh. We can pretend nothing happened.”

He watched a blush creep from the top of her tank top, straight up her neck, and across her face before she spoke. “Okay.”

He held out his hand. “I’m Max. I live next door.” He tried to throw her his most charming smile. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Um…I’m Claire.” She shook his hand before rubbing it across her forehead, either to remove sweat, or as a gesture of confusion, Max wasn’t sure. She did offer a tight-lipped smile, and Max took that as a sign of encouragement.

“So, uh…Can I come in?” Max asked.

“I don’t have any place to sit, yet. Sorry.” She opened the door and gestured for him to enter. “Do you mind if I work? I need to get these windows covered.”

“Sure. No, you go ahead. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.” He shuffled in nervously. “Can I help you with anything?”

Claire looked around, patting the top of her head while she thought. It was cute. Max wanted to pat her head, rub her tummy, and lick everything in between…

“You can hold my ladder, if you want. I got it at a garage sale, and it’s a little wobbly.” She looked unsure of herself, as if she was questioning her own actions. He was anxious to reassure whatever it was she wasn’t sure about, so he nodded enthusiastically before walking over to hold onto the ladder.

She climbed up, holding a large piece of plywood as she did. She had incredibly balance, and Max appreciated the muscles in her biceps as she held the wood away from her body. When she reached the rung of the ladder she needed, Max realized with discomfort that if he raised his chin, her ass was inches away from his face. And what an ass it was…

He lowered his eyes and focused on the backs of her thighs, breathing carefully. He didn’t want to come on too strong, and pull her off the ladder and have his way with her right here. But that’s what he kept imagining. He inhaled deeply, and smelled her sweat. The air conditioning wasn’t working, and she was working on covering the windows so there wasn’t a breeze in this room. Her musky odor overwhelmed him, but he couldn’t get enough of it. It was almost as good as sex.

“Okay, can you help me? I can’t quite reach where this last screw is supposed to go.”

“Sure.” Max was relieved to switch positions. He was about to get himself into real trouble the way things had been going. After she came down, Max climbed the ladder and effortlessly screwed in the last remaining corner of the ply wood, before climbing down and handing her the drill. “There you go. Do you want me to do the rest?” He threw her a friendly smile, hoping she couldn’t see the lust in his eyes. Or his jeans.

“No, thanks. I can get the rest I think. That was just the tallest.”

“Hey, I’m a contractor. I remodel and build homes. If you need anything done, you can call me. I have references.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She looked at her feet, and Max suddenly felt awkward. She looked back up at him. “I really appreciate the help, and you coming over and stuff, but um…I’m not really…”

“Actually, there was something else.” There was something wrong today, and apparently she wasn’t going to clue him in. He decided to go ahead and ask. It couldn’t hurt anything. “I had offered to buy this house from the previous owner. I didn’t realize he was going to sell it to you. I just wanted to let you know that I’m willing to pay to get this house.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve always wanted it, you know. I’d offered a lot. I don’t know how much you bought it for, but…” He trailed off, realizing her face was turning red, and this time it didn’t seem to be from embarrassment.

“I didn’t buy it. I inherited it from my uncle, and it’s not for sale.” Her word were clipped, and the anger emanated from her in waves that almost shimmered.

Max took a step back. Realizing he’d overstepped some invisible boundary line, he tried to retreat. “I-I’m terribly sorry. My condolences. I didn’t realize he had died…”

She advanced on Max, and he started walking backwards toward the door. “It wasn’t unexpected, but it wasn’t pretty, either.” The satisfied glint in her eyes as he left wasn’t lost on Max. “I don’t think you should come back over.” She sighed, her anger turned to sadness. “I’m trying to start over here, and you’re not helping me.”

Max nodded as Claire followed him to the door. When he got to the porch, he turned to her. “I’m sorry, this didn’t go the way I planned for it to. Just keep my offer in mind okay? To help.”

Her face seemed to soften a little. “Okay. I will.” With that, she stepped inside and shut the door.

He turned to walk home, muttering under his breath. “Shit.” Once he got there, he realized that he’d forgotten to tell her she needed drapes for her bedroom window.

Chapter Three

C
laire had spent the last four days getting the house ready to work on. She had cleaned, scrubbed, boarded up windows, and basically done all the crap that she hated. But it was done, and today she was ready to get down and dirty with the treasure hunt.

The prickly sensation she’d felt the day she fell into the well had returned a few times and Claire wondered about it. Sometimes it was just a feeling of being watched, other times it was like she’d walked into a spider web. There was also the chill factor. Certain rooms gave her chills, like the front living room and one of the smaller bedrooms upstairs. Nothing was particularly foreboding, though, so she dismissed it as an overactive imagination in an ancient house.

She swiped her bandana across the back of her neck to wipe away the prickles and determined a plan of attack for finding the mythical treasure.

She spent a couple of hours with a rubber mallet pounding on all the walls, looking for possible hollow panels. Then she searched the attic, which was completely empty. She was climbing down the ladder from the small hole, when she heard a knock at the door.

On her way to the door, she stopped in her tracks when she tripped over a box that she’d stacked up against the wall. As she looked around the room, she gazed with disbelief at the ring of boxes in the middle of the floor. Somebody had unstacked them and made a complete circle in her living room. Feeling a strong sense of unease, Claire gulped as she pushed them back up against the wall. The knock at the door sounded again.

Claire was surprised to see Summer, the girl from next door, holding a giant basket. “Hey! I brought some housewarming stuff! Are you busy?”

“Um, not right now, but I don’t have any chairs, yet. I’m going shopping later this week.” She motioned to the porch steps, not really wanting to go back inside at the moment. “Thanks. You didn’t have to, you know.” She told Summer, after taking the basket from her.

Almost as soon as they sat down, the delivery truck from the home improvement megastore pulled into the driveway. Finally, she was going to have some appliances!

“I need to get them started. Can you hang out for a bit?”

“Sure.”

“Ms. Dunlap?” A man in his late forties, with stringy black hair that was way too long to be professional, walked up to the porch. Two younger men in their twenties stood behind him. One looked like a skinhead, bald with gobs of blue tattoos on his arms: spider webs and skulls and swastikas and other disturbing stuff. The other had really long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and a tattoo on his neck that said, “Frenchie.” Claire noticed Frenchie and Skinhead ogling her and it made unease slither up her spine.

“Yes, let me show you guys what needs to be taken out and where to put everything.”

They followed her into the kitchen, and Claire showed them what to do, but couldn’t shake a creepy vibe from the two younger guys. They seemed awfully interested in her. Fortunately, after she gave instructions, they got busy.

Claire went back onto the porch to find Summer fiddling with the basket.

“Okay, gimme. I love presents.” Summer laughed as she handed over the basket. As Claire opened it, she was astounded at the generosity of the woman from next door. She pulled out a bottle of wine, a packet of goat cheese, some crackers, a couple of really good looking books, and a bottle of bubble bath.

Of course, it also reminded her of all the presents she’d had to return, unopened, with lovely little cards that said, ‘Thank you for thinking of us on this special day, but we’re not getting married anymore. I apologize for the inconvenience.’ As if returning a gift was an inconvenient as cancelling a wedding.

“I’m sorry. I don’t bake, or I would have brought cookies or something.” Summer shrugged in a gesture of helplessness, interrupting Claire’s depressing thought.

Claire was overwhelmed with the thoughtfulness of the gifts. “No. This is perfect. Thank you.”

Frenchie and Skinhead brought the old stove out and put it in front of the truck, then got the new stove out and took it inside the house. The girls silently watched them work, each in their own thoughts. Finally, when they had gone back inside the house, Summer broke the silence.

“So, have you talked to Max much?” She enquired.

Claire suppressed a tremor, whether it was from revulsion or attraction, she really couldn’t say. Max himself was really attractive, the idea of a Max in her life, not so much. “Not really. He just helped me out that one time, and then the other day he came over to tell me he’s a contractor and wants to buy my house.” She tried not to sound bitter, but honestly. She had thought he was coming back over to flirt a little bit, not offer business propositions. Not that she was interested in his flirting, she reminded herself. But the memory of his hot breath on the back of her thighs almost got her panties wet again, just thinking about the way the experience had affected her that day.

She had almost fallen right off the ladder he was holding.

“Yeah, well, he has had his eye on this house forever.”

“You know him well?” Claire suddenly hoped she hadn’t offended Summer. She had been so nice today and thought that she might be a good friend to have. If she had made her mad by being critical of Max, then…

“We’ve known each other for ages. He’s pretty handy to have in the neighborhood.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty handy too, and I only have living expenses, so I don’t think I’ll be able to hire him.” It seemed a shame too. He was really good-looking. It might cheer her up to have him working in her house, all sweaty and shirtless and stuff. She shook the thoughts out of her head. She didn’t want to go there. It wasn’t going to happen.

“He’s pretty good with the barter system, if money’s an issue,” she offered helpfully.

Before Claire could ask for clarification, Frenchie and Skinhead came back out to get the washing machine and took it inside the house. Claire thought she saw Skinhead wink at her, and it gave her the heebie jeebies.

Tearing her gaze away from the creepy guy, “Barter system?” Her mind immediately turned towards erotic favors that would be pleasurable to both parties, and she ducked her head to hide the blush that had suddenly flamed her cheeks. She hoped the other woman didn’t realize where her mind had gone.

“Trade stuff. I do his laundry.”

Claire laughed at the unexpectedness of the other woman’s answer. “Laundry?”

“Yeah, he comes over and unstops my toilet; I do his wash for a week or two. It depends. Sometimes I cook; sometimes I’ll weed his flowerbeds. Once I did all his dishes for a month. That was for a roofing job.” Summer said pensively.

“So, he’ll work for chores?” Claire was astounded. “Does he not know how to clean his own stuff?”

“Of course he does, but he’ll let someone else do it, if they don’t have any money. And he says he likes the way my detergent makes his shirts smell, so there you go.”

“That’s just plain weird.”

“Hey, it works.” Both girls laughed together, and Claire realized that she was enjoying Summer’s company. It seemed like a long time since she had laughed like this with another person.

It occurred to her that Summer may share her own attraction to Max. Not that she would do anything about it. He was pretty, sure. But he was an asshat. Still, Summer was her first friend in this strange town, and she didn’t want to step on any toes.

“Is there anything between you guys?”

Summer gave her a blank look, then burst into gales of riotous laughter. “Oh god no! Even if my tastes did run toward ruggedly good-looking men with a unrestrainable need to get into other people’s business, I’ve known him way too long.” Her voice quieted, and her laugh stopped abruptly. “Besides, Max has had…problems.”

Frenchie and Skinhead come to get the dryer. Frenchie smiled at Claire. She wondered what it was about these guys that made her skin crawl. They were really creeping her out.

“So, what’s his story?”

Summer looked at Claire sadly. “It’s not mine to tell. You’ll have to ask Max.”

“Why does he want this house so bad?”

“I don’t know exactly. It’s just that he’s always talked about what he would do to it, if he could ever buy it. He’s talked about it since High school. Then he moved away for a while.” Summer’s voice took on a strange faraway quality and sort of faded away. But then she said, “But when he moved back here, his passion for the house re-ignited, I guess. He wants to run a bed and breakfast out of it.”

“That’s my plan.” Claire said simply.

“Really?”

“Yeah, if I can get enough money to fix it up. I’d like to open a bed and breakfast. I have no idea if I can do it, though. Like I said, no resources.” But it would keep her busy, that’s for sure. If pouring her heart and soul into making this old run-down house a b and b couldn’t keep her traitorous mind off what could have been with Tom, nothing could.

“How did you buy the house?” Summer asked.

Claire looked at Summer. Something about the openness of her face encouraged her to be honest. She didn’t seem like the kind of woman to gossip much. Plus, Claire had to admit, she liked her. “I inherited it from my uncle. I suppose, if worse comes to worse, I could take out a mortgage against it to fix it up, but I’m trying not to go that route yet. I’ve got something else I want to try first.”

BOOK: Neighborly Complications (Stories of Serendipity #1)
10.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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