Neighbors (2 page)

Two

Forty minutes later, the house smells of cookies. I dress in a pair of denim shorts and a pink T-shirt. Tracy is disappointed it’s not more revealing, but she doesn’t make me change. A fight with the curling iron produces a few bouncy blonde curls and Tracy insists on doing my make-up.

“You look
too conservative,” she says, using her hands to alter my T-shirt so that the v-neck shows more of my ample cleavage. “But it will have to do, for now.” “You’re lucky you’ve got a curvy body.” She would have preferred if I went for sex kitten appeal rather than the girl-next-door look. She reaches into my medicine cabinet and takes my perfume out. She squirts me twice. “I don’t want them remembering the smell of the cookies. I want them remembering you.”

Tracy
hands me the plated cookies. “Okay, your mission: find out what you can about those perspiring, hunky, hot men. I need to know which one I’ll be coming over here to drool over.” She giggles. Grabbing the door handle, she opens the front door and shoves me out onto the porch.

I turn
to her for support. With her hands, she shoos me forward. A sinister smile spreads across her face as she hides behind the door and eases it closed. I hesitate long enough to see her take her spot by the window to watch.

Silently reviewin
g all the different ways I can introduce myself, I inhale and convince myself that this is a good idea. The sun is at its highest point for the day and the birds are engaged in a wonderful melody. I square my shoulders and saunter toward the truck. The older man is shoving empty water bottles into a makeshift garbage bag. Break time is over for now, and the brown-haired hunk with the muscles has gone inside with another box before I even make it down my walkway. The blonde is in the back of the truck assessing what is to be moved next. The older man notices me. A smile appears on his face.

“H-hi. I’m Melissa Lamper
t, I mean Baxter. I live over there.” I point toward my brother’s house. Tracy dodges behind the curtains.

The man
proffers his hand for me to shake. I shift the plate of cookies and cradle it with my left arm in order to shake his hand. His grasp is firm but agile, as if he’s spent his whole life using them to create things. “Stuart Townsend.” The young, blonde man appears from the truck. His emerald eyes have a flicker of mischief. “This is Kyle.” Kyle reaches out to shake my hand, too. “And this is Dylan.” Mr. Townsend points behind me.

I turn
to see the hunk with the brown curls. They’re damp with sweat. A light coating of perspiration makes his shirtless form gleam. My heart speeds up and a warm feeling drizzles over me. I’m speechless and know I’m staring.
Well hello, gorgeous
.

Mr. Townsend breaks
the awkward silence. “Dylan is your new neighbor.”

Oh my god. My brain hiccups
. His puffy lips part and the ends of his mouth tug upward. His smile is awesome. And although he’s been working and sweating, he smells like clean cotton. I stare at his mouth.

“This is Melissa. She lives in the house across the street
.” The older man’s voice snaps me back. Dylan reaches his hand out to shake mine. When we connect, I feel it, a volt of electricity, throughout my entire body.

“Hello,
” I sound awkward. “I thought you guys might need some sustenance, so I baked you some cookies.” I hand Dylan the plate.

“Thank you.” His voice
is smooth and sultry. A tingle runs down my back. “I’m sorry about all the noise. We’re almost done.”

“Oh, no. Take your time.” I
look into his large, brown eyes. They’re intense…and dreamy. Any woman would kill to have lashes as long as his. My heart hammers against my rib cage and I have to remind myself to breathe. “Well, I’ll let you get back to work.”

“Thank
s again for the cookies,” Dylan says with another smile.

‘You’re welcome.” My cheeks are hot and I kno
w they must be a deep shade of red. With my spaghetti legs, I walk across the street. Before I climb the steps to my door, I glance back once more. An inappropriate thought flashes in my head.
I wonder what Dylan looks like with the rest of his clothes off
. The proper part of my brain scolds me.
Stop that.
The man hasn’t even moved in yet and already you’re having inappropriate thoughts about him. What if he has a girlfriend? Or a wife? Just because you’ve been alone for a while doesn’t mean you should fantasize about your new neighbor.
But… he is absolutely hot
.

Reaching for the doorknob,
Tracy flings the door open before I can grab it and she pulls me inside. “So, what happened? I couldn’t hear a word. You’re windows are too far away.”

“Tracy, he’s gorgeous.”

“Which one?”

I sigh
like a teenager in love. “Dylan.”

Three

Tracy and I sit in the living room, taking peeks out the window, until the truck is empty and Stuart and Kyle drive away.

“Well, now that the show
is over, I’m going,” Tracy says getting up from the couch.

“Wa
it! Stay for dinner? I can order a pizza,” I suggest. “We can verbally bash your ex.”

“Nah.
After watching your new neighbor move in, I need to go home and take a cold shower,” she laughs. “They made me forget all about old what’s-his-name.” She uses her open hand to fan her face. I walk her to the door and promise to call her tomorrow.

Deciding that pizza i
s a good selection even without Tracy, I phone in my order.

“Twenty minutes
,” the guy on the other end says.

That’
s just enough time to jump into a quick shower. With five minutes to spare, I tie the belt of my bathrobe tight and twist a towel around my wet hair. A gentle knock prevents me from starting the blow dryer. The clock tells me that it has only been fifteen minutes. I grab my wallet and walk to the door while searching for a twenty-dollar bill.

“How much?” I say pulling the door open
.

“How much for what
?” His brown curls are a mess and he’s covered in dirt and dried sweat, but he is… unbelievably sexy. His eyebrow is arched. It’s very hot.

My pulse quickens and a small fire starts
deep inside of me. “Sorry.” I feel heat fan out over my cheeks. “I thought you were the pizza delivery guy.”

“
Oh, I didn’t mean to bother you. I just want to give you back your plate. Your cookies didn’t last more than two minutes.” His smile makes my insides turn to goo. “Thanks again. That was very nice of you.”

A small red hatchback pulls up to the front of my house. The pizza
delivery guy gets out of the car with the box of pizza in his hand. “Twelve fifty,” he says.

I trade
him the twenty for the box. “Keep it,” I tell him. I just want him to leave so I can stare at Dylan without interruption.

The delivery guy
gives me a wide smile. “Thanks.” He runs back to his car and takes off. The smell of pizza wafts through the air as I stare over the box at my unbelievably yummy new neighbor.

“Well, I won’t keep you from your dinner. I just wanted to return your plate. The cookies were d
elicious. Thank you. It was nice of you to welcome me to the neighborhood like that.”

I can’t take my eyes off of him, particularly his mouth. Feelings I haven’t felt in a long time start
to edge back.

Offering me my plate
, just inches from his dirty, sweaty body, my mind conjures an image of me licking cookie crumbs off his chest.
Stop that
, I silently rebuke. I know I should just take the plate and let him go, but I don’t want him to leave. Every one of my synapses sparks to life. I take the plate and place it on top of the pizza box.
How can I keep him here?
“Say, would you like to stay for pizza? There’s no way I’m going to eat more than two slices from this pie. And, it looks like you’ve been working pretty hard all day. I bet you haven’t eaten much.”

His large
brown eyes look into mine. “I don’t want to impose. I mean you don’t even know me.”

“Well, I’m going to have to get to know you, right?”
And the list of ways of how is increasing in my head.

H
is eyebrow arches again. Why is that so sexy?

Okay, okay. I don’t want to scare him off.
“We’re going to be neighbors,” I clarify, but I’m not sure if that explanation is for him or for me.

“Well, okay.” He crosses my threshold and walks
into the house. “If you’re sure.” As he passes, I get a sample of that great clean cotton smell again, this time mixed with him.

“Just make yourself comfortable while I
change.” I clutch the front of my robe closed.

“Thanks
,” he says and takes a seat on the couch.

After several
minutes of searching through the closet for something acceptable to wear, I opt for a red tee shirt and a pair of white denim shorts.  I know that Tracy would say it’s too ‘safe’ but it’s rude to leave him alone in the living room any longer while I try on different combinations of clothes. My hair is still wet, so I pull it into a ponytail and apply a little mascara and blush, just so I don’t look like the walking dead. Then I walk into the kitchen, grab two bottles of water, and some paper plates.

“Sorry for the disposable dishware. I don’t have any real plates. My ex-husband got them in the divorce.”
Mentally, I slap my forehead.
Don’t share that. You don’t want him to think you’re a loser.

“That’s okay. I use paper all the time, too.”
Ah, a bachelor
. I hand him a plate with a slice of pizza on it. “How long have you been divorced?”

Great, now he’ll think I’m a failure
.
Stupid, impulsive mouth
. “Just about eight months now, but it ended long before that.”

He
waits for more of an explanation.

I don’t want him to think that I’m
a bitch too, and before I know it, I spill the details. “I caught him in bed with a colleague of mine. I’m an ER nurse. He’s a cardiologist in the same hospital. I worked a double shift and when I went to the lounge to catch a few hours of sleep, he was playing doctor with another nurse. I was so stupid to marry him. I can’t believe I fell for all of his crap.” Ashamed of my past, I look down at my pizza.

“Sorry,”
Dylan says.

I’m not sure if I’m more mortified that
I had just told a total stranger my business or if it was that I told my new, incredibly hot, neighbor, the one I’d probably be dreaming of tonight.

“What are you sorry for?”
I hope I can do some damage control.

“You seem like a nice person. I don’t like when nice people get hurt.”

His initial assessment of me makes me smile. It had been a long time since anyone considered how I felt. Once he slipped the ring on my finger, Greg didn’t care if I even woke up in the morning. “Thanks. But, I’m better off without him. He was secretive and controlling, and selfish. I prefer honesty, no matter what.”

He cocked his head, challenging
me to continue.

“He w
anted to know every move I made, what my hours were, who I was working with, if there were any new doctors in the ER, where I was going after work, that kind of stuff. In reality, he just wanted to know if the coast was clear for him to
operate
. The girl I found him with wasn’t the only time he was unfaithful to me. I learned about all of his indiscretions after I caught him. I’m glad he’s out of my life.” Wanting to get off of the topic of my poor choice in mates, I ask, “Are you married?”
Please say no. Please say no.

A smile appears on
his face. Two rows of perfect teeth part slightly. “No. I haven’t found the right girl yet. But, I’m looking.”

My shoulders relax.
Feeling awkward that Dylan knows so much about me now and all I know is that he just moved in across the street, he hadn’t found the right girl yet, and that I wondered what he looked like without any clothes on, I change the subject again.

“So what do you do
…for a living, I mean?”

“I’m in construction.” That explains the muscles. “I frame houses mostly, but I do other aspects of the trade. So if you ever need anything fixed, just
let me know. I’d be happy to help you out, especially if cookies are involved.” He flashes his wonderful smile.

A warm rush coasts
through me as I immediately think of my libido that needs fixing. “Thanks.” I look away, hoping he doesn’t see me blush. A few moments of silence pass before I ask, “What made you move to this little town?”

“My dad, you met him before, he and his new wife live in the area in one of the
bigger houses on the other side of the district. My brother, Michael, and I come to visit him a lot. I usually pass this house whenever I’m in the area. I’ve always liked it and when I saw the shingle saying it was for sale, I decided to buy it. I knew it needed a lot of work on the inside, but it has potential.” As he talks, I find myself staring at his lips. It’s distracting. I want to taste them, feel them on me, but I sit back on the couch and try to concentrate on what he’s saying.

His smile is suggestive
. “And I like a good challenge.” Still mesmerized by his mouth, I wonder how it would feel pressed against mine. His lips look soft and warm. “How about you? Why’d you move here?”

“Oh, well, my ex got
almost everything in the divorce – the house, the expensive car, the dishes. I didn’t want anything that reminded me of him. I’m renting this house from my brother. He said I could use it since he’s living with his girlfriend right now. But he could come back at any time and I’d be out on the street.” I laugh, hoping I sound funny. It’s a nervous laugh. “It’s fine for now, but I’ve been scanning the real estate section of the paper.”

“
You have a nice laugh,” Dylan says. His comment catches me off guard. My heart skips a beat and I feel my cheeks flush. “Well, if you need someone to take a look when you find something, I’d be happy to make sure it’s structurally sound. When you’re ready, of course.”

With a neighbor like him, I may never move
. Even if my brother moves back in, I might have to erect a tent in the backyard just so I can see Dylan every day. “Thanks,” I say.

Dylan
can’t hold back a yawn and I see that the physical part of his day is catching up to him. As he stretches, I admire the contours of his body through his shirt. I think about what it would feel like to have his sculpted arms around me.

“Well, I’d better get going. I still have to find my sheets and
towels and take a shower.” He stands up. “Thanks for the pizza and your hospitality,” he says, walking to the door.

“Sure, any time.”
Think of a reason to keep him here,
my brain begs.

“I’m looking forward to being neighbors.”
His tone is genuine.

I peer
out from behind my curtains to watch him walk the few hundred yards toward his own front door. His jeans make his butt look wonderful. I lean against the inside of the door and think about how much I like my new neighbor.