“We don’t leave the house much anymore, you know.”
“Yeah, well. Just an idea.”
She stretched out the painful call for another minute or two before telling her mom she loved her, asking her to say hello to her father for her, and then hanging up. She set the phone down, then mimed shooting herself in the head. It had sucked—it usually did—but she could now check that box and be free for another week.
Delia arrived at two forty-five for her three to seven shift. Jenna filled her in on any happenings from the morning, then bid her farewell, left her with half a dozen customers, and headed home. She loved to cook, but tonight seemed like a good night to order in, and she was trying to decide between Thai and empanadas when she turned onto her street. The day was gorgeous—sunny and bright and rather warm for fall—and it was only in that moment she remembered that her new neighbors were moving in today.
That reminder came in the form of three cars filling up the driveway so she couldn’t get to her usual spot or her garage door. She sighed and muttered to herself, “Sure. Park wherever you want. Who cares?” Then she chastised herself. “It’s fine. They’ve probably got friends helping. Chill out, Jen.” She found a parking spot on the street a couple houses down, then walked back.
The right side of the house was bustling, if the sounds driftingout through the screen door were any indication. No moving truck—or truck of any kind—was there, so the big stuff probably got delivered earlier, while she was away. But music was playing inside, something smooth and jazzy, and peals of laughter from a couple of women carried out into the air. Jenna smiled as she slid her key into her own lock. Maybe her new neighbors would be fun. Friendly. People to hang out with.
Once inside, two little critters came running, and she bent to give them love. “Well, hello there, my kitties. How was the day? Everything go okay? No parties, right?” She turned to the tabby rubbing against her knee. “Wallace? You kept things calm, yes? Kept Gromit away from the internet? You know how he loves to shop.” She spent another moment loving up her cats, then headed into the living room where Arnold lay curled up in the donut bed on the floor. His hearing was barely there, so he rarely heard her come in the door, but as she got closer, she was pretty sure he could feel her footsteps through the floor, and he cracked an eye open. His tail began to wag, thumping against his bed, and she got down on the floor so she was face-to-face with him.
“Hello, my handsome man,” she whispered, kissing his head about twenty-seven times. “How was your day? Did you nap the whole time I was gone, you lazy man?” A few more kisses and then she stood and motioned for him to follow her. “Come on. Outside.”
He pushed himself up, taking his time, stretching and yawning, and she laughed at his slow pace.
“No, no, it’s fine. Take all the time you need. I don’t have anything to do in life besides wait to open the door for you.”
He finally meandered to the sliding glass door, and she let him out into the back yard.
A few books were in her bag, and she pulled them out, fresh copies of some new releases she wanted to read. She spread them out on the kitchen counter, trying to decide which to read first. They were nothing alike. One had the illustrated cover of a rom-com, with two characters dressed in colorful clothing next to a food truck. One was clearly a romantasy, with a dragon and a sword on the front. The third was a sapphic romance, the hands of two women entwined together in what was unmistakably a grip of passion.
Making a selection, she decided the sapphic book and a glass of wine on the front porch would be the perfect way to spend her Saturdayafternoon. She was just pouring the wine when there was a knock on her front door.
Not expecting anyone, she opened it to a pretty brunette holding Arnold in her arms.
“Is this handsome guy yours?” the woman asked. She was smiling and dressed in joggers and a long-sleeve shirt with the sleeves pushed up.
“Oh my God, yes. What—?” She reached out for her dog, confused.
“We left the sliding glass door open, and all of a sudden, we noticed this dog in the living room.” The woman’s laugh was soft and her eyes held kindness. Jenna liked her immediately.
“I’m so sorry. He’s pretty much deaf, and sometimes, he wanders without paying attention.” She dropped a kiss on Arnold’s head. “Are you my new neighbor?”
“That’d be my sister. I’m just here pretending to help.” She gave Jenna a conspiratorial look. “I’ll get her.” She held up a finger. “Hang on.” She scooted back inside, then returned a moment later, tugging another woman by the arm. “Thisis your new neighbor.”
Jenna could do nothing but stare.
“Hi,” the new neighbor said, holding out a hand, still just as gorgeous as the other day when Jenna had literally run into her on the street. “Sawyer Hall. It’s so nice to meet you. I swear I’m quiet. No kids or pets. I’m not into death metal music, nor do I have a penchant for construction or power tools.” Her voice trailed off a bit as Jenna stared at her. “Meaning I won’t be loud. Promise.”
It took another beat or two, but Jenna managed to pull herself out of it and nod. “Okay. Great. Hi.” She shifted Arnold to one arm and finally took Sawyer Hall’s still outstretched hand, shook it quickly. “Jenna Murphy.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Jenna.” Looking mildly uncomfortable now, Sawyer pushed her glasses up her nose with a finger, then jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Well, I’d better get back to it. Those boxes aren’t going to unpack themselves, am I right?”
Jenna managed another nod.
“Okay. Cool. Um…” Then she and the sister both went back inside.
Arnold still in her arms, Jenna watched their retreat, then stepped into her own house, shut the door, and leaned back against it as shereleased a slow breath that had the word “fuck” on it, stretched into one long sound. This had to be a joke, right? Her eyes were deceiving her. That had to be it. Sawyer Hall. The book blogger who had just trashed her romance bookshop—and the romance genre as a whole—could not be her new neighbor, could she?
Could she?
“Seriously, what are the fucking odds?” she whispered.
“Well, that was just fucking weird,” Sawyer said quietly as she shut the front door.
“Maybe she’s shy,” Courtney said, giving her a half shrug. “Or maybe she was worried about her dog.” She picked up a lamp, moved it to an end table in the corner, and set it there. “Which, by the way, was the cutest dog I’ve ever seen.”
