by Lulu Pratt
“Good night,” she says.
Chapter 3
Sarah
On Saturday afternoon, Monica comes to pick up Lindsay.
“How was your night of freedom?” I ask her when she’s inside.
“So necessary. I really appreciate you being able to watch her. Life gets so busy, Larry and I end up living past each other.”
I nod. “Of course, I know how busy you are, and I love spending time with her.”
Lindsay comes into the living room with her bag, and Monica smiles at her daughter.
“Did you have fun, sweetie pie?” she asks.
Lindsay nods. “I did. We wrote letters to Santa, and I delivered mine.”
Monica looks at me when I sigh.
“Yes, she did,” I say. “She delivered it to the man next door.”
“What?” Monica asks, laughing. “Why?”
“He was dressed as Santa yesterday,” I say. “She put two and two together and got a number that was very far off the mark. Oh, and she included me in her letter.”
Lindsay grins, proud of herself. “I asked Santa for a man for Sarah. Just like you were talking about.”
“Oh, God,” Monica says, looking at me.
I nod, confirming it. Monica gives Lindsay a stern look, and the child’s smile fades.
“Was it wrong?” Lindsay asks.
Monica kneels so that she’s closer to Lindsay’s height. “Sweetie, Santa doesn’t live next door. It’s Sarah’s neighbor. Sometimes, people dress up like Santa for fun. Just like you sometimes dress up like a fairy, but that doesn’t make you one. Do you understand?”
Lindsay nods. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I thought Sarah wanted a man.”
This is exactly why I don’t want to talk about these things in front of Lindsay. She’s old enough to know what we’re saying, but not old enough to fully know what we mean. Monica sighs, running her hand through Lindsay’s hair.
“It’s okay, but next time you want to do something like this, you need to ask someone, okay? And you need to apologize to Sarah, not to me.”
Lindsay looks up at me with big eyes. “I’m sorry, Sarah,” she says.
“It’s okay, honey bunny,” I say to her, and it makes her lips twitch with a smile. “Now we know for next time.”
Lindsay nods and wraps her arms around my waist. I stroke her hair.
“So, you must write another letter for the real Santa when you’re home, okay Lindsay? Then you’ll get all your presents, and it’s not accidentally overlooked.”
Monica smiles at me. Lindsay picks up her bag, and we all walk out to the car. When Lindsay is in the car, Monica turns to me.
“I’m sorry about that,” she says.
I laugh. “Don’t worry. The neighbor came over, the one who got Lindsay’s letter, so I met him.”
“He did? And?”
I shrug, trying to look nonchalant. “His name is Graham. He’s really attractive… and he asked for my number.”
Monica laughs. “Something good came of it after all. Let me know the minute he calls you.”
I promise I will, and Monica hugs me.
She gets in the car, and when they back out of my driveway, I wave at them. Lindsay waves back at me. I watch the car as they leave. When I turn to walk into the house, Graham steps out onto his porch. He waves at me.
I lift my hand and wave shyly back at him. He rocks on the balls of his feet, jamming his hands into his pockets. He looks like he’s considering something before he steps down his porch and walks around to my driveway.
“I take it the little matchmaker has gone home,” he says.
I nod. “Yes, we’re safe for now. “
Graham chuckles, and I like the sound of it when he does. It’s smooth and deep, like velvet on my skin. In the light of day, his features are so much more striking. God, he’s hot. His eyes are a dark blue — the color of the ocean — and his dark hair is messy around his face in a way that only makes him look hotter. His jaw is defined, his nose is straight as an arrow, and thick dark eyebrows above his eyes make him look perpetually pensive.
“So, now that you’re free of your babysitting duties, do you want to go out tonight?”
He’s so straightforward it catches me off guard, but I can’t find a reason to say no to him. I don’t want to say no to him.
“Yeah, tonight sounds good,” I say, and I blush for no good reason at all. This seems to happen around Graham.
He smiles at me, and it’s a brilliant smile, making me melt.
“Dinner? I’ll pick you up at seven.”
I laugh. “You live right next door.”
“So, no excuse to be late, then,” he says and winks at me.
I laugh. That happens a lot around him, too, I realize. I don’t spend a lot of time dating or trying to find a man, but he makes me laugh a lot more than other men have. When he walks away, I watch him leave. He’s as hot from behind as he is from the front. He looks like he works out or something, but his muscles aren’t for show. He carries himself with a swagger to his stride, maybe a little arrogance, but it’s so damn attractive.
I turn around and walk back into my own house because he reaches his porch and catches me staring.
Why have we never spoken before? He’s so open and approachable now, making all the moves. It’s hot when a guy does that — I love assertive men. I’ve always assumed he was in a relationship, or there was some other reason why he kept to himself so much. Maybe we’ve just been living past each other. We were total strangers until last night, after all.
I’m nervous to go on my date. I go on dates now and then, mostly to satisfy Monica who always tries to set me up with someone, but they never end up being someone I like, and most of them seem to be intimidated by me. Graham isn’t like that.
Maybe it’s not the date I’m worried about, but where it will lead. I haven’t dated seriously since college. Jacob broke my heart when he cheated on me. He made me believe that it was my fault, that I wasn’t exciting enough for him. I had tried to be someone for him that just wasn’t me, and I learned that it didn’t change anything.
Now, I’m a lot fussier about what I accept in my life. Monica thinks I’m always looking for a reason to push away men, and she’s perpetually worried that I’ll be alone forever. I’m not worried about my own love life. I’ve still got plenty of time to see what’s out there and find the right man for me.
And who knows? Maybe it will be someone like Graham.
I shake off the thought. I’m not going to let my imagination and the immediate attraction I feel when I’m around him influence me. I need to keep an open mind about this and run him through the same list I use with all the men I consider. Besides, it’s only a date. I’ll see how it goes and take it from there. I must admit, I’m more excited than nervous to go out with him.
The most important thing right now is deciding what to wear.
Chapter 4
Graham
At six fifty-five, I pull my car out of my own driveway and into Sarah’s next door. I get out and walk to her door. When I knock, she opens almost immediately.
“You’re early,” she says, smiling.
“You’re ready,” I say, looking her up and down. Her light brown hair is pulled into a high ponytail, and she’s wearing a minimal amount of make-up. She closes a beige coat, and I glimpse a blue tunic-looking thing and leggings with boots. Everything about how she’s dressed is as laid back as it is classy, and I love it. She’s so different from other women.
“You sound surprised,” she says.
I nod. “I’m used to women fussing forever, and then they still don’t come out of the house looking as stunning as you look.”
She blushes when I pay her the compliment, and it’s exactly what I was after. I chuckle, unable to hold back my glee.
“Shall we?” I ask.
Sarah nods and reaches for a handbag behind the door. It’s a bag with a long strap that she hooks over her shoulder, complet
ing her look, and I know she can’t have much in a bag that small. She’s becoming more and more attractive by the minute. God, I want her. She’s so fucking hot that I can just imagine what she looks like beneath her clothes. But I won’t make a move until after dinner. A lady with class like Sarah needs to be wooed first.
“Did you drive here?” she asks with a laugh when she sees my car.
I nod and run around to open the door for her. “A lady shouldn’t have to walk twenty steps in the cold.”
“Thank you,” she says, smiling. “And might I add, you look pretty good yourself.”
I grin, closing her door before walking around to the driver’s side. I wore a dark pair of jeans and a light blue collared shirt, which I’m glad about now — we match. I chose to wear my black, double-breasted coat against the cold because everyone compliments me on it.
“Where are we going?” Sarah asks when I’m in the car.
“The Scott Place,” I answer, and I drive us there. It’s not too dressy, it has good food and even better views of the mountain — perfect for a dinner date without being overly romantic. I called ahead and managed to reserve a table, even though it was short notice.
I park the car, and we walk into the restaurant. When she takes off her coat and scarf, I get to see her figure unobstructed for the first time. She’s wearing a long, dark blue tunic that doesn’t cover her ass as much as it frames it. Her slender legs are clad in leggings, which are tucked into knee-high boots, and her neckline is scooped just enough to leave everything to the imagination. And my imagination is going wild.
We’re taken to our table. The restaurant has wooden floors, a big stone fireplace and one entire wall consists of windows that look out over the mountain.
“This view is breathtaking,” Sarah says. “I can never get enough of it.”
“Yeah,” I answer, but I’m staring at her. When she looks at me, she blushes. God, I love it when she does that.
“So, what do you do?” she asks once we’ve ordered our meal.
“I’m in construction,” I say. It’s not the full truth, but I’m not lying. I don’t want her to know that I’m her landlord, so I keep it off the table completely. I don’t want our business relationship to interfere with the personal one we’re creating. I will tell her who I am, if this goes any further and it’s necessary at all, but for now, I like being just the neighbor who is taking her out for dinner.
“How about you?” I ask.
“I work in the front office at a local school. I love kids, but I don’t think I have what it takes to be a teacher.”
“What do you do in the offices?” I ask.
“I answer the phone, book buses for school trips, send notices to parents and guardians, deal with sick notes, and so on. Basically, I’m aware of what’s going on at the school on a day-to-day basis. It’s a great job for me as I’m a complete dork.”
I smile at her. “A sexy dork.”
Yes, I’m complimenting her because I want to see her blush and get shy. She’s adorable when she does it. Adorable and fuckable.
She tells me a bit more about her life, and I force myself not to stare at her mouth the whole time. Her lips are perfect — not too thick, smooth and beautiful — and the way she moves them when she speaks makes me want to kiss her. Before the night is over, I’m going to kiss those lips. And do more if I can.
After dinner, I drive her back to her place. We get out, and like a gentleman, I walk her to her door.
“Thank you for a great night,” she says. She’s standing close to me, and the atmosphere is charged. I want her so badly. I run my fingers along her hair and through her ponytail and move in for a kiss.
She doesn’t reject me. Instead, she closes her eyes and lets me kiss her.
The moment my lips touch her, my cock hardens in my pants. She kisses me back, allowing me to slide my tongue into her mouth. When she slides her arms around my neck, I pull her against me, and she gasps. I’m sure she can feel my dick. Because my dick can feel her, and I’m so fucking eager to get her out of her clothes.
“Do you want to come inside?” she asks against my lips, and I nod. I want nothing more than I want her right now.
My phone rings, vibrating in my pocket between us, and she steps back, breaking the kiss. Dammit.
“I’m sorry,” I say, pulling out my phone and looking at the screen. It’s one of my tenants. I can’t ignore it. “I have to take this. Just a moment. I’m sorry.”
She nods, and I press the phone against my ear, turning away a little. It’s Mrs. Reeves, and she’s in a panic about her heater not working.
“I’ll come have a look tomorrow first thing,” I say.
“Can’t you do it now?” Mrs. Reeves asks. “What happens if the weather turns cold tonight?”
I sigh, glancing over my shoulder at Sarah. I would much rather be fighting the cold by rubbing my body against hers, but I can’t neglect my tenants.
“Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I say.
When I hang up, Sarah is hugging herself against the chilly wind.
“I have to go. It’s a work emergency.”
“On a Saturday?” she asks.
I nod. “Joys of being in construction. I’m always on call.” I feel a little guilty about the white lie, but I don’t know how else to put it.
Sarah nods. “I understand,” she says. “You’ll call me?”
“Of course,” I say and kiss her again. “Get inside, sweetheart. It’s freezing.”
I can’t see if she blushes again at the pet name because she turns away from me. I wait until she’s inside before I leave her house, getting into my car and driving to Mrs. Reeves, who rents a place on the other side of town.
Chapter 5
Sarah
With Christmas around the corner, shops have extended hours, and Sunday is the best time to go shopping with Monica and Lindsay. I’ve already taken care of my gifts, but Monica falls behind every year.
When I get to Monica’s house, Lindsay is hyperactive and excited.
“I don’t think she ever calms down,” Monica says. “I’ll be glad when school starts up again.”
I nod. Working with children throughout the year and experiencing Lindsay first hand gives me no illusion that having kids is easy. For some reason, they always have so much more energy than adults do.
We head to the mall, and when we get there, Lindsay runs ahead to look at toys. It gives me alone time with Monica.
“I went on a date last night,” I say.
Monica looks surprised. “Is this with the guy next door? Well, you move quick.”
I laugh. “It’s not like that. After you and Lindsay left, he came out and asked me out to dinner. It’s not like I was doing anything else.”
“And? How was it with Sexy Santa?”
I shake my head. “That’s the worst thing to call him.”
“But it’s true,” Monica says. “You told me he’s hot.”
I can’t argue with her about that. Graham is extremely attractive, and it’s not only his looks. Everything about him turns me on, from the way he carries himself with authority, to his arrogance in assuming I will love everything that comes out of his mouth. And I do.
“So? Tell me. Did you…”
I shake my head, feeling embarrassed. Monica and I always talk about everything, but I still get shy when she asks me about doing the dirty.
“He kissed me,” I say. “I have to admit, he’s a really good kisser.” I don’t add that I wanted more to happen, that more might have happened if he wasn’t called away.
In a way, I’m relieved that it didn’t go further. I know I would have given in and let him fuck me. It’s never a good idea to move that quickly, and even though I really want him, it might be a good thing that I’m not getting in too deep, too quickly.
We change the topic and shop for a while. Monica manages to buy Lindsay gifts without her knowing. I think it’s a mother’s superpower to be able to do that
right under her child’s nose.
We go to the food court for lunch and sit at one of the tables in the middle. They have a kids’ area with jungle gyms near our tables, and Lindsay runs there before Monica can stop her.
“I’ll get her to eat later,” Monica says. She turned her attention to me. “Are you nervous about this guy?”
I nod. “You know how I feel about relationships. Obviously, I’ll try, but no matter how long it’s been, heartbreak is heartbreak, and it’s difficult to forget.”
Monica nods. “I know Jacob did a number on you, but if you don’t risk a little, you might never find happiness.”
I know she’s right.
“I think what gets me is that I actually like him. Usually, the dates I go on suck ass because the guy doesn’t really make me feel much of anything.”
“You like him?” Monica asks. “That really is a first. You’ve never said that about any of the other guys after Jacob. Even when you said that you’d give them another chance.”
I shrug. Every time someone has tried to set me up, I’m willing to give the guy a chance. There must be something to love about everyone. A lot of the guys I have been out with are perfectly nice, but I’m always waiting for that spark. Sometimes, I think that I’m just dreaming. I started to wonder if love at first sight and butterflies in the stomach and fate even exist. I was starting to think that I’m expecting the kind of love you read about in books when it’s just not real. But with Graham, I feel something along the lines of what I always hoped would be out there. A part of me is happy that I held out instead of settling if there is a possibility that I could find love like that. A part of me is terrified that I will fall head over heels for this guy, only for him to break my heart again.
“What do you want to do?” Monica asks.
“I don’t know. I think I want to give it a chance. I want to see where things go. I’m just not a hundred percent sure.”
“What’s making you hesitate?” Monica asks.
“Well, after dinner, when he dropped me off, he kissed me, and it might have gone further.” I blushed, glancing at Monica. Her eyes are glued to me, and I can’t read her expression. “He got a phone call, and he said he had to leave, claiming it was a work emergency.”