More Than Neighbors: An Older Man Romance

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by Gabbi Wright




  More Than Neighbors

  An Older Man Romance

  Gabbi Wright

  Copyright © 2021 Gabbi Wright

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1 - Dina

  Chapter 2 - Lance

  Chapter 3 - Dina

  Chapter 4 - Lance

  Chapter 5 - Dina

  Chapter 6 - Dina

  Chapter 7 - Lance

  Chapter 8 - Dina

  Chapter 9 - Lance

  Chapter 10 - Dina

  Chapter 11 - Lance

  Chapter 12 - Dina

  Chapter 13 - Lance

  Chapter 14 - Dina

  Chapter 15 - Lance

  Chapter 16 - Dina

  Chapter 17 - Dina

  Also by Gabbi Wright

  About the Author

  Chapter 1 - Dina

  Who even imagines that they’ll be the girl next door? It’s more of a fantasy, isn’t it? And you’d think that the guy is supposed to be this hot twenty-something who mows his lawn shirtless, sweat dripping off his body from the hot summer sun.

  Well, that would be my fantasy, at least. But this is Boise, Idaho in January, so the guy next door, the other half of this equation, is going to be as bundled up as I am, because damn, it’s cold.

  I’m finally home from work on a Friday night, and I’m ready to start my weekend.

  As I pull in the driveway of my one-bedroom rental, I notice activity next door. The house has been vacant for most of the winter, but it looks like somebody has finally moved in.

  Maybe I’m just wistfully hopeful to meet a sexy guy. I mean, a hot and sexy guy could move in next door.

  A girl can hope, can’t she?

  But I don’t catch a glimpse of him, only the brief silhouette of a man behind the curtains that tells me nothing.

  Knowing my luck, it’s gonna be a noisy family that likes to blast loud music late into the night or leaves their cigarette butts and beer cans all over the lawn.

  But it could be someone sexy.

  * * *

  It’s the next morning before I actually see him.

  He’s not shirtless, he’s not mowing the lawn (obviously), and not at all like any guy from my fantasies.

  I open the curtains to let in the morning sun, a fresh cup of coffee in one hand.

  It’s been snowing on and off all week, but miraculously the sun is out today, melting away the last vestiges of ice hiding in the shade.

  That’s when I see him.

  He’s a big guy with a bit of a gut, and a short dark beard. Despite the January chill, he’s dressed in jeans and a dark t-shirt, no coat, as though he doesn’t feel the cold.

  Nope, not at all like the fantasy.

  He probably has a family too, the noisy kind.

  I watch as he moves from his large truck back to the house, carrying in boxes he must have missed the prior day.

  He notices me and smiles, managing a slight wave despite the box in his arms. He’s strong, and he’s the kind of guy that one would say is built like an ox.

  I wave back. He’s got a nice smile.

  Friendly, not young. No sign of anyone else. There’s no other vehicle, and unless they’re not here yet, I’m thinking he’s a bachelor.

  * * *

  I consider myself to be a fairly lucky girl. How many women my age can say they’re independent with an okay paying job and a roof over their head?

  Sure, my place is just a small rental in the suburbs north of downtown Boise. No, it’s not a very attractive place, but I have a roof over my head. And with the cost of living, at least I’ve locked in a good price for rent – for now. I signed a contract that states my landlords can’t raise my rent for a year.

  Even with my half-way decent job at a growing PR firm, I worry that I’ll need a roommate or two, just to afford a roof over my head.

  There goes my independence. Still, it beats moving back in with mom and dad.

  The neighborhood is nice, mostly, so I can’t really argue about the hand that fate has dealt me.

  Plus, this is Boise. This town rocks.

  * * *

  It’s been a lonely week. My best friend, Brooke, is off in Hawaii, with our boss, no less, and work is dreadful without her. Sure, our boss is fucking hot, and I’m jealous. He’d never been on my radar, though. He’s eye-candy, nothing more.

  If she were home, we’d be hanging out, maybe drinking too much while making fun of the women in Hallmark Channel romances.

  But Brooke wasn’t the only who hooked up at the holiday party last week. I also hooked up with a co-worker. And while it’s been fun for a few days, Gary’s not somebody I actually want to date.

  Plus, I made the unfortunate discovery that I only like him when I’ve got a few drinks in me.

  I can’t drink all the time.

  My cell phone buzzes.

  Speak of the devil. It’s Gary, from the office. It’s not the first message from him. He’s been trying to catch me since I left work last night.

  I’m so done with him. I told him before leaving work that I wanted space, that we were moving too fast.

  He doesn’t agree. I briefly consider blocking him, but not yet. I’m sure as hell not going to talk to him though, I said I needed space, and damn it, he’s going to give it to me.

  I wish I was in Hawaii with Brooke. Then after the vacation, I could ditch whatever boy toy when I returned to Idaho.

  My neighbor looks like he’s got it all figured out. The single truck hints that he’s not in a relationship either.

  I wonder if he’s happy, or if he’s looking for space, also.

  A guy like that’s not really my type. I don’t mind the belly, but he looks old enough to be my dad.

  He’s the kind of guy I could call daddy.

  That thought makes me bite my lip. Last thing I need is to mess around with the guy next door. That would be somebody difficult to avoid when I decide I need my space back.

  It doesn’t mean that I can’t think about it though, nobody can take away the fantasies.

  Chapter 2 - Lance

  I only briefly caught a glimpse of my neighbor. She’s a pretty and young curvy thing, and though the window doesn’t give me a good glimpse of her, she’s everything that I find attractive. I love the curves, the shoulder-length brown hair, and an easy smile when she meets your eyes.

  I’m not looking for a relationship. I’m not a guy who finds relationships easy anyway. A part of me blames my twenty years in the marines. I toured with a lot of guys who couldn’t pull twenty, but I enjoyed it, enough so that when I left, I found myself not really fit for anything but violence.

  And what kind of life does that leave for me to offer? After leaving the military, I spent another ten doing independent work, things off the book, as a merc for hire.

  I’ve never gone looking for violence, but I’m good at it.

  Now, almost fifty, I just want to settle down. Maybe I missed the chance for a family. I don’t know if I regret that, it’s just who I am.

  But maybe I’m ready to let the violence go.

  * * *

  Around lunchtime, my doorbell rings, and standing there is my neighbor. She’ got a six-pack of beer in her
hands, which I assume must be a housewarming present.

  And she’s much more beautiful in person.

  “Hi neighbor,” she says, “Thought I’d be the first to welcome you to the neighborhood. I didn’t really have time to bake anything, but I thought you looked like you might not mind a cold beer.”

  “Not at all,” I reply, taking it graciously, “That’s the best gift I could’ve received. Wanna come in out of the cold and have one with me?”

  “I’d love to,” she says, and I step aside to allow her in.

  Up close she’s more attractive than I originally thought. She moves with a grace that works those curves with every step. Her hair frames a young and beautiful face, and I instantly find my thoughts going south.

  She can’t even be half my age.

  Young women like her aren’t interested in guys like me. She’s probably more interested in the college crowd.

  “The name’s Lance,” I say, popping open a cold one. I pass it to her and open another for myself.

  “Dina,” she replies, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Pleasure.” We clink our cans, and she takes a small sip as I take a long swig, emptying most of it in one go. “Can I offer you something? I’m afraid everything’s store-bought right now, I’m just getting settled.”

  “Oh no, that’s sort of the reason for my visit, isn’t it?”

  “I suppose so.”

  I wait for her to take a seat before I do. She chooses a spot on my sofa, while I sit in my recliner. “Excuse the mess,” I say, gesturing at an assortment of unpacked boxes, “I don’t have a lot of furniture. I’ve never really needed much. If I can handle settling, maybe then. We’ll see.”

  “The minimalism is nice,” she replies. “Where did you move from?”

  “Oh, all over, but mostly back east. Virginia, DC, down to Florida. I do a lot of odd jobs, protection, that kind of thing. Before that, the marines. I haven’t had a home in so long I don’t remember what it’s like.”

  She nods, thoughtfully. “And I’ve spent the last couple of years trying to establish myself. So many out-of-staters have been moving to Boise, the housing market’s skyrocketed. I think I might have missed the boat buying a home.”

  “Sorry, guess I’m one of those out-of-staters, aren’t I?”

  She laughs, and I find myself attracted to those lips. “That’s okay. I don’t blame you.”

  “Well, hang in there, things always have a way to turn around. If it’s meant to be, you’ll find yourself in the right place at the right time, you know? It’s one of the things you learn when you get to be my age.”

  “Are you buying this place?”

  “I am,” and though the place is humble, I can’t help by smile with a little pride. “It ain’t much, but it’s mine. And I like my neighbor, so that’s a win in my book.”

  She giggles, and I even laugh a little too. I have to remind myself that there’s no way a young woman like her has any interest in an older guy like me. But she’s responding to my sloppy flirting. I shouldn’t let that encourage me.

  She finishes her first beer while I’m halfway through a second. “Another?” I ask.

  “Oh no, I’m a lightweight. Two beers will knock me off my feet. I don’t want you to see me lose all my good sense.” She follows up with a wink.

  Is she flirting? I almost consider her a possibility, but she’s a neighbor. Getting mixed up with her right off would be a mistake.

  “And I’d better get going anyway,” she says, “So you can unpack. We’ll have to do this again.”

  “Yes, we will,” I say, walking her to the door. I watch her walk back to her house, and don’t look away until she’s inside. What I wouldn’t give to be closer in age to her, to be somebody that she would be interested in.

  A young girl like that, I’m afraid I’d break her. If anything, I tend to be a little rough.

  Chapter 3 - Dina

  I like what I’ve seen of Lance. He’s rough, and not just around the edges, there’s no doubt about that, but there’s a hint of sweetness, too. I’m definitely not interested in an older man. What would I do with somebody who’s been around the block a few times? I wouldn’t be his first rodeo.

  The experience would be intriguing though, wouldn’t it?

  With my friend out of town and hiding out from my holiday party fling, there’s not a lot of things to do to hide from my housework. I keep myself busy doing all of the chores I’ve put off all week, like dishes. That’s another reason why I went with beer. I didn’t have any clean plates or bowls to use for anything else.

  And the beer’s been in my fridge since before Thanksgiving.

  When I look back out the window, he’s not out there, of course. He’ll be unpacking, not gardening, not at this time of year. Certainly not mowing the lawn without his shirt. His property will need a little work. It’s been neglected since the end of last summer.

  I don’t know why that thought turns me on, the idea of watching him work and sweat.

  It’s supposed to be the twenty-something man with abs like a jock.

  No, I don’t have any interest in older men. What would I do with all of that experience?

  My cell buzzes with a text.

  It’s Gary again. That guy doesn’t give up.

  If he keeps this up, I’ll definitely chase after an older man. Especially if guys my age are gonna go all stalker on me.

  I almost don’t check the message. Something tells me I should, and when I check my messages I groan.

  Great, he’s coming over.

  I quickly text him back.

  I’m sorry, I can’t see you anymore. I told you I’m seeing somebody else.

  The phone rings in my hand.

  “Hey Gary,” I say.

  “I don’t believe you,” he says, immediately on the offensive. “How could you meet somebody so quickly? Just talk to me, we can work things out.”

  “We were never an item. It was just a kiss and some fooling around. I was drunk.”

  “Give me five minutes, I’ll convince you otherwise.”

  “But my boyfriend…”

  “What boyfriend?”

  “That’s the reason it’ll never work out between us, because I’m in love. There, it’s out. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, I thought we could move on and still be friends, but you’ve got to accept this. We’re not a thing, we never were.”

  “I’m just a few blocks away, maybe I can meet this boyfriend.”

  “What?” I hang up on him. Oh shit. The last thing I want is a confrontation with Gary. I made a mistake hooking up with him. I knew he’d be clingy.

  Curse you, booze goggles, why do you always do this to me?

  I have to think fast. I needed a boyfriend, like now.

  But who do I have to choose from? And this urgently?

  There’s Lance…

  Would Gary even believe that?

  Would Lance even go along with it?

  Damn it, it’s my only option.

  I rush outside, knowing I only have minutes to pull this off. If Lance says no…

  I knock and try to act like this is a perfectly natural visit. No stress at all.

  Lance answers a few seconds later. “Hey,” he says, “Back already? I’m afraid I’ve already drank half the beers.”

  “I’m sorry to bug you” I say, “But I’ve got an unusual request.”

  “Sure, anything.”

  The way he responds gives me hope. He sounds like I can literally ask him for anything.

  “There’s this guy I work with who can’t take no for an answer.”

  “Oh, that’s no problem. I can convince anyone to change their mind. Where is this guy?”

  “He’s on his way. That’s why I thought…”

  It’ll be my pleasure. He’ll never bother you again.”

  I hesitate to tell him the rest, the part about him being my boyfriend for this deception. As I start to, Lance glances over my shoulder toward the
road. When I look, sure enough, Gary’s pulling up in front of my house.

  “I’ll take care of this,” he says, and heads over to meet my co-worker.

  I follow, admittedly a little scared; after all, I work with Gary. I don’t want Lance to destroy him or anything. A little fear would be nice, because how else is he going get the message?

  Gary exits his vehicle and tries to ignore Lance altogether. Of course, that’s an impossibility, the man is at least twice Gary’s size.

  “Dina, we need to talk…”

  Lance steps full on in his way. Only then does Gary actually acknowledge the large man.

  “Excuse me” Gary begins.

  Lance crosses his massive beefy arms. “I don’t think so” he says. “The lady doesn’t want to talk to you.”

  “Who are you supposed to be, her dad?”

  “If I need to be.”

  Gary tries to side-step around the man, but Lance moves easily to block him again.

  “I don’t have a fight with you,” Gary continues, and hollers to me, “This is between you and I. Want to ask your ‘dad’ to get out of the way?”

  “Tell you what,” Lance interrupts, “Since you don’t understand what I’m trying to get through to you, I’m going to give you to the count of three to get back in your car and drive away.”

  “Or what?”

  I take a few hesitant steps toward the two. I wonder if I’m going to need to break up a fight. I’m thinking in Gary’s going back to work on Monday missing a few teeth, and eventually I’ll feel bad.

  Eventually.

  “One.” Lance says, not bothering to explain. I’m close enough to see his mouth twitch in a smile. He’s enjoying this.

  “Dina?” Gary asks.

  I shrug.

  “Two.” Lance cracks his knuckles.

  “This guy?” Gary asks, and his voice cracks. He licks his lips as if he can already taste Lance’s knuckle sandwich. “This guy’s your new boyfriend?”

  Lance starts to say three, and Gary winces. He’s probably thinking he delayed a little too long, and now is regretting his life choices.

  Lance turns and looks at me, the unspoken question in his eyes. The look that says, boyfriend?

 

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