I walked to a drawer and made sure to keep my body between it and Brody. Opening it, I had to push aside the 9mm Glock in order to reach a pad of paper I’d tossed in there and a pencil. Taking them back, I set them on the table. “Thanks.”
“Just call,” he said, writing his number down. “This isn’t a pick-up line. I want to help if you need it.”
“You seem like a really nice guy.”
He smiled and pushed the pad across the table to me. “I try to be. My mother did her best to raise me to be a gentleman.”
“You sure came to my rescue earlier. I packed that box with books.”
“I’m glad I stepped from my house when I did.”
Brody finished his coffee and stood up. “Thanks. It’s nice sitting here with you.”
I also stood and reached out my hand to him, shaking it briskly. “It was a real pleasure meeting you, Brody.”
“I’m a decent neighbor,” he said with a grin. “No loud music, no barking dog, don’t crank my stereo at three a.m.”
“Same here. Though I may get a dog soon. I promise, I won’t let it bark excessively.”
I accompanied him to the kitchen door, then walked beside him through the garage to my car. Glancing past it to the green lawns, sprinklers running to keep them that way, I hoped I’d moved into a safe, friendly environment.Lord knows, I need all the peace I can get.
“I’ll see you around, neighbor,” Brody said with a wink. “Take care.”
“You, too.”
He crossed the patch of lawn that divided our properties to a reconditioned, late model Ford truck. Turning, he waved, then got inside. The pickup started with a roar. Black smoke puffed from its exhaust. He backed the truck from his driveway, waved again, then drove down the street to vanish.
The mid-summer day suddenly seemed empty without his presence.
***
Unpacking after a move was always a bitch in my opinion. I unboxed pictures and set them aside for later hanging, tossing each empty carton into the garage for later disposal. My hands and mind busy, I nearly forgot about Brody until I heard his oil burner pull into his driveway.
Nosy, I swiped my sweat-wet hair from my neck and entered the smaller bedroom and the window that faced his house. Parting the curtains, I watched as he seized grocery bags from the seat to carry into his home. The way he moved held me rapt. Muscles knotted and bunched under his shirt. His long legs and tight ass in his jeans caught my breath in my throat.
“Jeezuz, that man is fine,” I muttered. “Too bad you’re sworn off all the male gender.”
If Brody knew I watched, he gave no sign. He never glanced once toward my house, much less the window I stood at. His groceries carried inside, he shut his door and didn’t come back out. I sat on the narrow bed, thinking of him naked, erect, and wondered what he’d be like in the sack. Dominate and cruel? Tender and giving? Was he the type to take his own pleasure without giving back? My pussy tingled with persistent lust as I pictured Brody sharing my bed.
Or me sharing his.
“Knock it off,” I snapped, standing. “He’s your neighbor. Sure he’s nice, hotter than a rocket launch, but hands off. You don’t need the shit getting involved again would bring.”
Forcing all erotic thoughts of Brody from my mind, I went into the large bathroom to put away medicinals, hair care products, soaps, shampoos, my toothbrush. I carried the empty boxes to the garage, then poured myself a cold iced tea. My parents’ friends had left the house fully furnished, as they had moved into a furnished condo near the beach. Thus, I’d filled a U-Haul trailer, pulled it behind my car, and unloaded only my personal shit.
Which was still a lot of shit.
Sitting at the table, I drank my tea and cooled myself by flipping my shirt back and forth. The house was air conditioned but needed servicing before I used it. The Pattersons, my folks’ friends, said they’d pay for it. I hadn’t had the time to find a repair person yet, however.On the honey-do list for tomorrow.
In the front sitting room, I sat on the leather sofa and gazed out the big picture window. Behind the houses across the street, a decent view of the tall mountains rose. The sun began to set behind them, reminding me how late the hour had gotten. With a sigh, I stood to get my laptop. I needed to check for any client messages.
Sitting back down, I logged into my computer. As I’d warned my clients that I’d be out of touch for a time, I still had several messages, all needing to know when their projects would be completed. I answered them all, wondering why the wordsI’m moving, I’ll be unavailable for a weekhadn’t sunk in.
“They’re all me-me-me, I guess,” I muttered, then opened my e-mail.
I read the usualCall me when you get settled, and I’m worried about youfrom my mom, a note from the Pattersons reminding me to have the furnace checked, send them the bill. Ideleted a few spam e-mails, then puzzled over one addressed to me, but under a name I didn’t recognize.
Half-afraid it was a virus, I clicked on it, anyway.
