I dread the shameful heat that might accompany the spike in my heartbeat, but mercifully, it doesn’t come. Maybe letting go of my illicit connection with GentAnon last night truly will help me overcome my sickness. Maybe I can be worthy of Dane.
I just need to evade this creep so that I can go on my date with him.
“Well, hello, Peaches,” the stranger says, his Southern twang more pronounced that the softer Carolina drawl I’m used to. His pale blue eyes wander down the length of my body, pausing at the curve of my hips.
I have an awful suspicion about why he chose to call mePeaches, even though my butt is now firmly pressed back against the washing machine.
I shake my head slightly and gather my clean laundry to my chest, holding it between us like a shield.
“My name is Abby,” I say coolly. “And you shouldn’t be in here.”
He chuckles. “Don’t be like that,” he admonishes. “We must be neighbors. I’m moving in upstairs. Just checking out the rest of the building in between hauling boxes up to my new place. Too bad I’m not more presentable. I wasn’t expecting to meet a beautiful woman.”
He waves his hand in my general direction, and I notice the dull glint of a wedding ring.
“I don’t think your wife would appreciate you flirting with me,” I reply, speaking calmly and clearly despite my elevated heartrate.
I’ve dealt with skeevy men plenty of times before. But after the attack by the masked man, I’m flooded with adrenaline. Even though I’m not experiencing a disconcertingly erotic reaction, I still can’t seem to tap into my fight or flight instinct. As always, I’m frozen.
He’s blocking my way to the exit, and I have nowhere to go. Nothing but my words to talk my way past him. If I can manage to unstick my feet from the concrete floor.
“Oh, this.” He frowns at the ring, as though he forgot he’s wearing it. “Damn thing’s stuck. I’m separated. That’s why I’mmoving in here. Drove all the way up from Mississippi to get away from that bitch.”
Charming.
I suppress a contemptuous grimace and keep my features schooled to a polite mask. Provoking him when we’re alone in here would be stupid, especially if I’ll have to see him around the building for the foreseeable future.
I note the small beer belly that strains against his too-tight white t-shirt. His finger bulges around the constraint of the too-small wedding ring. I suppose he’s not in the same shape as he was when he first put it on.
“My name’s Ron.” His broad, bright white smile could be considered boyishly charming, and his tousled brown curls add to hisgood ol’ boyvibe. They peek out at the sides of his oversized baseball cap, and I wonder if he’s hiding a receding hairline. “Pleasure to meet you. I could really use a friend in the neighborhood.”
My new neighbor has an entitled air about him that I recognize all too well.
“I’m sorry to hear about your troubles,” I say, barely managing to soften my tone to something conciliatory. “I hope your move goes smoothly. But I need to get this laundry folded.”
He steps toward me. “I can help with that.”
I recoil from his grubby hands. “That’s okay. I’ve got it.”
He chuckles again and shakes his head. “I’m just being neighborly, Peaches. I’ll help you, and then you can help me. I don’t know the area yet. You can show me the best dive bar in the neighborhood.” He winks at me. “We’re gonna get real close. I can tell.”
My stomach churns, and sweat beads on my brow. The intensity of my fear response is out of proportion with the perceived threat.
He takes another step toward me, and his dirty hand fists one of my black work shirts.
The air in my lungs turns to solid ice, and my entire body locks up tight.
I want to tell him to leave me alone, but I can’t find the oxygen to speak. I’m so cold despite the heat of the running dryers in summer.
The door to the laundry room opens, revealing my white knight.
“Dane!” I say his name like a prayer, and his forest green eyes narrow on my creepy new neighbor.
Ron is in between us, my shirt still trapped in his fist. He turns his head to see who’s interrupted us, and his throat bobs when he takes in Dane’s thunderous expression.
Then his shoulders draw back, and his arms flex. He drags my shirt out of my arms and turns to face Dane.
“This your boyfriend, Peaches?” He asks, his twang heavy on the contemptuous question. He eyes Dane up and down, taking in his perfectly tailored, light blue shirt all the way down to his polished leather shoes.
