Forbidden Neighbor: A Contemporary Romance Boxset (Forbidden Saga Book 2)

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Forbidden Neighbor: A Contemporary Romance Boxset (Forbidden Saga Book 2) Page 2

by Summer Brooks


  She stood behind me when I opened the door, and there he was.

  Blake Henderson. In all his glory. His chest was hidden behind the yellow roses and his smile was brighter than the flowers that he'd brought.

  But even with the seemingly chirpy smile on his face, he couldn't hide the awkwardness that peeked through his dark green eyes.

  "Jaz," Freya whispered, her hand on my shoulder, slightly pressing me to the side when she stood in front of me. "Hey Blake. How are you?"

  Um, awkward.

  "I'm good, Freya. And you?"

  I filled my chest with air and crossed my arms, waiting for the ex-love birds to be done with their pleasantries. Then, I waved my arm in the air when I saw our parents approaching the house.

  Blake turned around and everyone's attention was now at the bowls that were in Mom's hand.

  "Ruby," Blake hugged our mother, then our father. "Matthew. How are you two? It's been a while."

  Actually, no, it hadn't, but I cut him some slack and assumed it's just what he thought to say in a weird situation like the one he was in.

  "Are these for me?" Mom asked, looking at the yellow flowers.

  "Oh," Blake got all jumpy, handing her the bouquet. "Yes, of course they are."

  I laughed inwardly. Of course, the narcissist in Ruby Ashman would think that the flowers were for her.

  I let it go without spewing out a mean comment, though it's exactly what I wanted to do every time Mom said or did something that annoyed me. Maybe things would be different if she was more conservative with her mean remarks toward me.

  "Oh dear," she said, keeping the bowls covered with aluminum foil on our dining table. "This is a formal dinner, Jaz. You should have dressed the part."

  I groaned, looking at my sister, who was filling our glasses with water. She subtly showed me her hand, reminding me to pause and maintain myself, and I felt myself calming down at the bitchy comment.

  "Mom," she said. "You know you didn't have to bring all of this food. We could have ordered Thai... or something."

  "Dear, as far as I know, you're the only one here who likes Thai food."

  "Well, actually, I do too," I chimed in quietly, even raising my arm a little like I was answering a question in a classroom, just to annoy her.

  Mom ignored it, and rubbed Blake's back.

  "Blake likes chicken wings and barbecue ribs, so that's what I thought we should eat tonight."

  Freya shook her head but didn't say anything in response.

  Tonight was going to test her patience, which I knew she didn't have much of. Mom doted on Blake like he was her son, and Dad also pampered him like he was the son he never had.

  Perhaps it was all due to the fact that they'd expected Freya and Blake to get married. Maybe they were expecting them to still get together and it was their way to play their part in ensuring that it would happen.

  "How is packing coming along, Frey?" Dad asked her.

  "You know, the usual," she shrugged. "It's okay. Boring. Crazy."

  A lie.

  She hadn't even started yet. Her pretty dresses were still proudly hanging in her closet.

  "Lies," Mom blurted out. "You haven't started packing, have you?"

  Freya's lips were tight and she pulled her chair out and plopped herself next to me.

  Between me and Blake.

  "I'm thirty-two years old," she snapped. "I'll pack when I want to and however I want to. You don't need to worry."

  "I'm not worried," Mom said, placing the first chicken wing on Blake's plate. "You need to pack your entire life and if you still haven't started, then maybe you won't end up leaving, after all."

  "Ugh," Freya twisted her lips, then looked at Dad. "How do you put up with her?"

  "Freya!" Mom slammed her hand over the table. I squeezed my sister's hand under the table.

  "How's the grocery store going, Matthew?" Blake came to the rescue.

  I was certain that he knew all about the craziness in our family. After all, he and my sister had been together for five years. It would be weird if he didn't know about the drama that would always unfold when the four of us got together.

  "It's going good, son," Dad answered. "But I've really been thinking about retiring. You know, selling it off, cashing out, and just enjoying life with the money? I haven't thought it through all the way yet, but I need to get on it right away. The daily struggles of running a big business are starting to take a toll on my old bones now."

  Okay, the business wasn't big, in no shape or form, but it was lucrative.

  Our family-owned grocery store, Green Apple Market, was the only big grocery store in Hinsdale. At least, in the heart of the town. That was the reason it was doing so well, and that’s why our family was better off than most families in town.

  "Interesting," Blake nodded, while Mom and Freya continued to give each other death stares that could lead to a wild fire.

  It was a good thing we had a firefighter in the house.

  Blake glanced at them both, probably concluding that it would be best to keep talking to Dad instead.

  "That sounds like a great idea, Matthew. Green Apple is a profitable business and I'm sure a lot of buyers would be interested."

  "Let's uh...hope so."

  Mom's eyes went wide and she flicked her gaze away from Freya.

  "Do you think you might know someone who's interested in buying? One of your friends? Lance, I think his name was?"

  "Mom," Freya cut in. "Stop."

  "Stop what? Hinsdale is a small town and Blake here is quite resourceful."

  Freya hid her face behind her hands that were clasped together as she exchanged silent looks with me.

  "I can definitely ask around," he said, stiffening. "My parents might know someone too. And it's a... it's a good business so it shouldn't be too hard for you to find a buyer."

  "Am I going to continue having a job at the store even after it's sold?" I asked, teasingly. I knew the answer would be an affirmative yes. Affirmative, yet unenthusiastic.

  "Sure," Dad said, then laughed. "Not sure why you think you wouldn't."

  "Oh dear," Mom reached for my hand. "Are you sure you want to continue working there though?"

  I sighed, pulling my hand from under hers.

  I worked as a cashier at Green Apple and my parents didn't approve of it. It wasn't the kind of job that they thought was respectable for someone as smart as me. Somehow, it was hard to believe that my mother thought I was smart, but then again, I thought she liked to tell people how smart I was just so that it would reflect positively on her.

  "You're too smart to work as a cashier," she said for the millionth time.

  "I told you...," I started firmly. "It's not permanent. I'm only going to be there till I find something that I really like."

  "You're pretty old to still be confused about your profession," she said, my fingers curling into a tight fist.

  "So, Matthew," Blake came to the rescue once again. "Similar to how you're on a hunt for a buyer, I'm looking for a seller. I don't have the money just yet, but I'm looking for an affordable house for my parents."

  "They're moving out?" Freya's brows shot up.

  "No," Blake said right away. "At least, not yet. Not until I gather enough money to buy them a house. I love having them around, but my mother has made it abundantly clear that she needs a place of her own, even if she hasn't said it in those exact words."

  My parents had huge smiles on their faces.

  Dad patted Blake's shoulder. "You're a good son."

  "It should always be the other way around, right?" Mom said. "Children should buy their old folks a house."

  "Are you regretting letting us live here?" Freya snapped, her patience starting to run out.

  "Is that what you heard?" Mom's eyes narrowed.

  The room went silent and I swallowed, staring down at my stupid chicken wing.

  "Blake, son, how about you come by...."

  "Okay, that's it," Freya slammed her g
lass on the table and pushed her chair back. Dad stopped mid-sentence when she did and we all looked at her, speechless.

  "I'm out of here. Mom, Dad, enjoy your time with your adopted son. I was planning on leaving next week but I think I'll just leave first thing tomorrow."

  "What?" I whispered, following her to the stairs, then up to her bedroom.

  I kept looking at the three of them who sat around the table, not knowing what to do or say.

  It wasn't until Mom said "she was bluffing" that I heard Freya throw something across the room.

  "What the fuck is wrong with her?" My sister yelled, not caring that they could all hear her downstairs.

  She had tears in her eyes and I pulled her in for a hug.

  "It's okay," I said, stroking her hair and getting her to sit down.

  "She's so fucking annoying," Freya continued, and all I did was nod. "You're literally the only person in the family I like."

  "That's flattering," I chuckled. "I think Dad isn't too bad either."

  "Yeah, he's okay. Mom, though."

  "Um-hmm."

  "How do you take it? All the garbage she says to you? She's so much nicer to me, and I can barely handle her."

  "With you, she isn't....mean. She's just more fond of you, I guess. I don't know."

  I shook my head and asked her if she really meant what she said.

  "About leaving tomorrow morning? Yeah, I think I'm going to do that."

  I frowned. "I was looking forward to spending this week with you. You're always so busy with your health-conscious clients and it would have been a nice stress-free week for you. For us. I mean, with everything, considering."

  She shook her head.

  "It works better if I leave early, anyway. I have all of these interviews lined up in Chicago next week and I would really like to get settled in a week early. I was just procrastinating. It's scary, but this has given me the nudge that I so badly needed."

  I rubbed her back while she wiped her tears, then stood.

  "Okay, I'm going to pack now. I think you should go back down. Give Blake some company. He shouldn't have to sit with our parents by himself."

  I shut the door behind me when I left with a pit in my stomach.

  The idea of being in this town or just being away from my sister in general made me uneasy. I'd been doing okay, thinking that there was still one week to go.

  Perhaps, like our mother, I too was hoping that Freya would change her mind about leaving. But now the whole thing had gotten that much more real.

  She'd pulled out a suitcase in front of me, and had already started laying her clothes over the bed.

  "There they are," Dad smiled, then tilted his head. "Where's Frey?"

  "She's actually packing, and she's actually leaving."

  Blake slid his hands into his jeans pockets and stood.

  "I think I should get going. This has been uh... wonderful."

  "You don't have to lie, Blake," I said, as my parents glared at me.

  "Why don't you see the young man out, Jaz," Dad said. "Your Mom and I need to go speak to your sister."

  "Yeah," I chuckled, and approached the door. "Good luck with that."

  4

  Blake

  Jaz led the way out and barely looked at me while we walked outside.

  "That was, uh....," I smirked, not knowing how to finish the sentence.

  "Dramatic?" She giggled, finally making eye contact with me.

  The girl was ten years younger than I was and I'd known her since she was a teenager. From what I knew of her, she'd always been a shy girl.

  Completely the opposite of Freya, who wouldn't care if she had to stand naked on the rooftop and yell, making an utter fool out of herself.

  But not Jasmine, or Jaz, as I had grown to call her, mainly because that's just what I always heard other people say.

  "Yeah," I sighed. "Well, I hope, uh... that your folks figure it out. They always do."

  I didn't mean to say that last part. In a way, it sounded like I knew of all the drama that conspired within those four walls. And I did, because Freya told me everything about her arguments with her parents.

  I used to even get involved back then, but it wasn't my place anymore to even mention any such thing. It was weird to think about how quickly you need to change things around to fit the current scenario.

  That was probably the worst part about a breakup. Changing all of the habits that had become ingrained over the course of a relationship.

  "You must think we're all crazy," she shook her head as we stood outside the house.

  "I don't. There's plenty of drama in my family, too. That's just what happens when you're close to family, I guess. Maybe we're all lucky."

  "You want to...," she stopped mid-sentence and looked at her house next door. "You want to keep walking for a while? I just don't want to go back in there right now."

  "Oh sure," I shrugged and we walked together in silence until I found something to say.

  "How do you feel now that your sister's leaving? You're going to be all alone in that house."

  "Yeah," she answered, overwhelm spreading across her face. "Maybe I should move into a smaller place and let you have this house. You know, since you're on a hunt for one for your parents?"

  "That would be nice of you," I rubbed her shoulder, not meaning for it to come across as something that it wasn't. It was just a friendly shoulder rub, but I cleared my throat when she stared at my hand and blushed. I could've sworn that it was a blush, at least. I quickly withdrew, feeling awkward for the tenth time that evening.

  "Actually," I began. "Maybe it won't have to be too long before I can gather the funds. Your dad offered me an incredible opportunity."

  "Really? When? During dinner?"

  I nodded. "Yeah, he offered to loan me money if I joined Green Apple as a manager."

  Jaz's mouth opened wide and she placed one hand on the side of her waist.

  "That... That is pretty funny."

  "Why is it funny?"

  "You do know that I work there, right?" She narrowed her eyes at me. "So you'll technically be my boss if you joined as a manager."

  "You'll still remain the owner's daughter," I reminded her. "Guess that technically means that you will be my boss."

  "Guess I can't argue with that," she said with a half-smile, then pointed at a bench outside a children's park. "Want to sit here?"

  Jaz ran her fingers through her hair when I sat next to her under the street light.

  She looked me over and swallowed.

  "You think you'll have enough time, though? I mean with your other job and stuff."

  I shrugged a shoulder. "Nothing in life comes easy and if I want to do this for my parents, then I need to put in the extra effort. Besides, your father is quite generous. He's only asked me to work for him over the weekends and that's just how I plan on repaying him for the loan over time."

  "You're such an amazing son," she said with a smile.

  That wasn't the first time I was hearing these words that day. Amy, too, had told me the same thing.

  "It's what any son would do."

  "Not really," she replied quickly. "I'm serious. You're an exception. And it's just sad that..."

  She looked away, staring in the distance. "That my sister never understood. I mean, I think you guys were just having problems for a while but she could have been more understanding. Freya can be a little strong-headed sometimes."

  "Sometimes?" I raised a brow and laughed.

  "Yeah, okay all the time."

  She ran her hands over her thighs, her eyes wandering in all directions but in mine. She was adorably clueless to how cute she looked when she was this visibly awkward.

  I didn't know what it was. When I knew her as my girlfriend's sister, she was always more open, easy-going and just free-spirited. But she wasn't like that tonight.

  Maybe, it was the fact that we no longer had the thread that pulled us together. Or maybe it was because I was now seei
ng her from the perspective of a single man.

  Who knew, it could be both.

  I liked the mystery, and her innocent vibe.

  Innocent, as in literally.

  Freya never held back her tongue. She told me that her younger sister was a virgin, and how ridiculously picky she was in terms of men.

  "You know, I think she's a lesbian,” she would joke.

  Well, it would be a shame if Freya was right about that, because in my opinion, any man would be lucky to have her.

  I wondered if it really was her innocent smile that was attracting me toward her, or was it the fact that I was ready to explore something new, now that I was done with my long and toxic relationship?

  One thing was for sure. I was feeling the urge to scoot closer to her, to place a hand on the side of her face, and taste her lips.

  My body was aching for it.

  It was the perfect moment. We were alone under the moonlight and the stars.

  We could both use the distraction from our inner monsters, to let go and give into our desires.

  But did she desire me?

  Well, why else would she offer to take a walk with me at this hour, alone and in a town that was so small that gossip traveled at the speed of light.

  You're such a narcissistic asshole, I thought to myself, and yet that didn't stop me from feeling myself harden.

  Jaz tucked her hair behind her ears and stood.

  "It's getting late. I think we should get back. I feel kind of guilty leaving my sister by herself to deal with everything. She was really upset."

  Something came over me and I asked the next question without giving it much thought.

  "Are you sure?"

  I wanted her to say no, and to sit back down so we could talk.

  Hell, I actually would settle for just talking and no touching, and just like her, I didn't particularly want to return to my home. There was always plenty of drama that unfolded in my living room, as well. I just needed some peace and quiet, and the company of this amazing woman who I was suddenly realizing I never really noticed.

  "Yeah," she responded, shattering all my hopes.

  I was pretty sure she now thought that I was a creepy older guy who was more interested in sitting next to her than going back home to his family.

 

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