by Emma Roman
Inside she wanted to scream. She didn’t like to be patronized or made fun of. It’d happened too many times before. Being the butt of a joke was never her kind of fun “Thank you. However, I can’t say the same about you.”
Well, I could, but I won’t.
She gave him a quick once over. He wasn’t outrageously handsome by any woman’s standard. She noticed he had wicked blue eyes and wondered if he wore colored contacts. His dark hair—— what she saw of it——was never combed, rarely exposed, and unfashionably long. His mouth was full and moist...kissable, but not hypnotic.
Still.
He chuckled, a devilishly masculine sound. “Now, you don’t mean that.” He folded his arms across a muscular chest she’d have to be blind not to notice. “Look into these baby blues and tell me your little heart isn’t going pitter patter.”
Jennifer’s brow wrinkled as she looked at her arrogant neighbor. “Excuse me?”
“Come on, sweetcakes. Admit it.” He ran his hand down the front of his body as if offering her a present and cocked a dark brow. “You know you want some of this.”
Balling her fists, Jennifer stepped off her porch, took off her left shoe, and threw it at him. It hit him square in that impressive chest. “Get off my property before I call the police. You’re insane. You hear me?”
At that precise, unfortunate moment, her friend Amy pulled into the driveway that separated Jennifer’s property from his.
“Hi,” Amy called, getting out of her car. She stopped and glanced at the two of them. “What’s going on?”
“Hey, Amy.” Mr. Holmes smiled broadly, waving like a ten-year-old. “How y’all doin’?”
Oh God, she hated his fake Texas accent; and he was pouring it on, thick as hand sliced bacon. She didn’t think he was even from around here.
Amy blushed, stroked her hair and then smiled shyly, batting her eyelashes. “I’m fine. And you?”
“Just discussing Jennifer’s attraction to me.” He wrinkled his nose. “Course, she won’t acknowledge it for the world.”
Amy laughed as she walked into the yard and picked up Jennifer’s shoe. Then she noticed the big pile Pooch had left. She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Uh oh, looks like someone has a mess to clean up.”
“I’m going inside to get a little green plastic bag right now, Amy.” He pleaded his case. “You know I’m not the kind of neighbor to leave dog poop on someone else’s lawn.”
While he turned and left, she and Amy entered into the house. “What’s going on between you two?” Amy asked, removing her jacket. “Hey, you should ask him to be your date on Valentine’s Day.”
Jennifer held onto the wall in the foyer as she slipped on her shoe. “I’d rather crawl on my hands and knees through crushed glass.”
Amy stopped and turned back to stare at her. “Wow, you’re really pissed.” Then she laughed. “Because that big old dog took a dump in your yard?”
Jennifer held out her clawed hands. “He does it all the time.”
Amy shrugged on her way to the kitchen. “Eric always cleans it up, doesn’t he?”
“In his own sweet time.” Jennifer sat at the kitchen counter shaking her head. “Why does the guy let his dog do that?”
“Probably to get a rise out of you.” Amy took out a can of diet soda, then turned and pointed at her. “Your face is as red as that dress I plan on wearing to Chasity’s party.”
Jennifer self-consciously rubbed her cheeks. “No, it is not. Stop teasing me.”
“Do you have any takers, yet?”
Jennifer’s stomach churned at the social ramifications if she didn’t attend the Valentine’s party, or worse——if she went without a date. Damn, she wanted to kill her ex. Shaking her head, she said, “Not yet.”
“You only have six more days.”
“I know,” Jennifer propped her head on her hand and blew a gust of breath loudly through her open lips. “Believe me, I know.”
“What about that guy from work? The one you mentioned at dinner the other night.”
A sour taste filled her mouth and she scrunched her nose at the thought. “You mean Jake the Snake?”
Amy sat beside her and made a face. “That doesn’t sound promising.”
“Yeah, well, office gossip has him dating two co-workers at once.”
“If he is, fire him. You’re the boss.”
“True, but he’s too good at his job. That’s another reason I won’t date him. I can’t afford to lose someone that smart.”
Amy took a sip of the soda she’d retrieved from the fridge. Struggling not to make a face, she said, “Okay. You know, there’s always Maryann’s younger brother.”
Jennifer put her head on the counter and silently swore every dirty word she’d ever heard. “Sure, I could ask him. And afterwards, when everyone is through laughing me out of the party, we can go to the skate park together.”
“Okay, so he’s a little young.”
“He hasn’t even passed his driver’s test yet.”
Amy pursed her lips and looked away. “Yeah, there is that.”
Thirsty, Jennifer rose and went to the refrigerator. She wished there was something stronger, but in the end settled for a cold can of diet soda. When she turned back, Amy peered at the far wall like she could see her damned neighbor’s house. Jennifer did not like the calculating look on her friend’s face.
Oh, God, no!
Jennifer slammed the drink down so hard soda splashed onto the cabinets. She pointed her finger at her friend and tightened her lips. “Don’t you even say it. Do not let those words come out of your mouth.”
Amy shrugged and ran her index finger and thumb across her mouth to zip her lips.
“I won’t do it,” Jennifer insisted. “I won’t lower myself and beg Eric Holmes to take me to a party. I’d rather slit my wrists.” She swung around, yanked several paper towels off the roll and mopped up the counter and cabinet doors. “I’d rather die. I swear, I’d prefer them laughing at me so hysterically their damn heads roll off. I won’t do it.” She turned to face her friend and stamped her foot. “No, no, no.”
“Okay, I didn’t say anything, Jennifer. I know what happened after you and your no-good fiancé split. I’m just saying, desperate times call for desperate measures. That’s all.”
“I will never be that desperate. Besides, I’d rather they laughed at me than pitied me.”
“No one felt sorry for you after the break-up. This is the twenty-first century. Those things happen.”
“No, damn it, they don’t, Am.” Jennifer threw down the soaked towels and covered her face. “A ‘very best friend’ doesn’t have a six-month affair with the man you’re engaged to.”
Amy’s arms circled her and hugged her tightly. Amy was the only person who’d stuck by her through the nightmare and she’d always love her for it.
“It’s over now.” Amy released her and stepped back. “Let’s blow off that whole damned party.”
“We can’t do that. Besides, Tom is looking forward to taking you.”
“I know, but he’ll understand why we can’t make it.”
She was spot on. Tom Sanford would do anything to keep his fiancé from being hurt, uncomfortable, or laughed at. He was the nicest guy she knew.
“I said I’d go, and I’m going.”
“Then we’re back to Eric.”
Now that she wasn’t so angry with her neighbor the idea didn’t sound so preposterous, but she still didn’t like it. “Do you even know where he works?” Jennifer asked. When he moved in, she and Amy had taken over a plate of cookies and introduced themselves not realizing he was a bachelor. With a house that size, they’d assumed a large family would move in.
“Maybe construction or something like that.”
Jennifer nibbled her index finger. “He could be a drug dealer, judging by the way he dresses.”
Amy took a sip of her drink. “I don’t think so.”
Jennifer growled and Amy held up her ha
nds. “Hey, other than his dog taking the occasional dump in your yard, what’s the guy done?”
Jennifer thought for a moment. He didn’t make any noise, never played loud music, didn’t throw wild parties that she was aware of, and everyone in the neighborhood liked him...except her. “I don’t know if I want to take him to a party.” She looked at Amy. “Do you think he even owns a decent set of clothes?”
“He might clean up nicely.”
Her throat constricted and she twisted her mouth. “I doubt I can be that lucky.”
“Look at it this way, you’ll go to the party and a fairly nice looking guy will be accompanying you. No one can make anything out of that.”
Jennifer turned to her friend. “Do you think he’s that attractive?”
Amy’s eyes popped. “Hell, yeah.”
Jennifer didn’t see it. “Really?”
“Have you looked at the guy?” Amy touched her arm. “I mean really looked at him?”
“Not my type.” She even cringed at the whining in her voice. She sounded like a stubborn five-year-old. “He’s so, so...” She struggled find the right words. “Crude and manly.”
Amy banged her fist on the counter. “I’ll take that any day of the week, baby.”
“You sound like a woman on the prowl.”
“I’m engaged, girl, not dead.”
“He’s not my type.”
“He doesn’t have to be,” Amy reminded her. “It’s just one night. Hell, it’s not like you have to sleep with the guy.”
Jennifer thought long and hard. Exactly how would this go down? “We could leave early. Bow out gracefully and let everyone draw their own conclusions.” A glimmer of hope bloomed in her chest. Maybe this wouldn’t be as insurmountable as she thought. She looked at her friend and wrinkled her nose. “You honestly think he’s cute?”
Amy slowly nodded. “Not cute, but hot, in a bohemian way.”
“Honestly?” Jennifer shook her head. “I don’t see it.”
“You’re telling me you’ve never noticed that gorgeous body? Those guns, that flat stomach, that chest and those shoulders? For Pete’s sake, woman, someone needs to take your pulse. Are you fricken’ breathing?”
Jennifer closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them. “Okay, fine. The man has a body, but nothing’s going on upstairs.”
Amy lowered her chin and stared up at her. “Seriously? You’re joking, right? The guy’s funny, handsome, and has a knockout body. What more do you want in a man?”
“He’s not that good looking.”
“The hell he isn’t. Don’t you just love that scruffy stubble on the lower part of his face? Big blue eyes, dark, wavy hair, great teeth, and an adorable chin.” Amy sighed dramatically.
Jennifer stopped with her drink half way to her mouth. “You know what his hair looks like? That it’s wavy?”
“I saw him out one morning getting the paper.”
The advantages of living across the street.
“I thought maybe he was bald on top or something.”
Amy fussed with her own hair. “No, it’s nice and thick with a touch of wave on top.”
“You sound like you like him more than Tom.”
Amy slid off the stool, grabbed her purse, a signal she was ready to leave. “You know better than that.” At the door she turned around. “You could do worse.”
2
Eric Holmes opened his fridge and took out a beer. Twisting off the cap, he took a long swig before reaching in the cabinet for a can of Pooch’s favorite food. Fighting back the anxious dog long enough to get the chow in his bowl, Eric petted him then went into the living room with his beer in hand. Taking out his Glock, he locked it in the gun case and dropped onto the couch.
His conscience told him to change clothes and run a few miles after such a hectic day, but his body just wasn’t up to it. He was coming down off an adrenaline rush and he felt like he’d gone twelve rounds with Manny Pacquiao.
Today, they’d busted up the drug cartel he’d been working on for six months. Well, it actually all went down at three o’clock in the morning, the busiest time for dopers.
Being in the Tactical Force Unit of the US Marshal’s office out of Dallas wasn’t an easy job, but he’d never taken the path of least resistance. It simply didn’t flow in his veins. Give him a good old-fashioned take down and he was a happy man.
Pooch finished his dinner and came toward him licking his chops. After putting down his beer, Eric rubbed Pooch’s ears until he was content and had enough attention. “You’re a good dog.”
Pooch barked.
“No matter what that mean lady next door says.”
Pooch barked longer and louder.
“It’s not your fault her yard is the perfect toilet, is it boy?”
Pooch slumped down on the floor and rolled over on his back, waiting for a tummy rub. “That’s a good boy.” Eric continued giving his dog exactly what he wanted. “You’re a good boy and a handsome dude.”
Pooch looked strange lying on his back with his ears flopped back, his eyes opened wide, with his lips drooping loosely, allowing his teeth to show. What a sight the mutt made. He patted the couch beside him and the dog jumped up and joined him.
“Don’t get too comfortable, dude. We have a mess to clean up in the neighbor’s yard.”
Pooch moaned and rolled over, exposing his belly again.
“No back talk. You did it and now we have to clean it up.”
Pooch sat up and barked.
“And stay out of her flowerbeds. That wasn’t very nice.”
Pooch grumbled, hopped off the couch, and strolled to his bed, keeping his back to Eric.
“You can’t ignore it, Pooch.”
The dog collapsed in a heap and covered his ears with his paws.
After eating a microwaved dinner, Eric slipped on his jacket and went next door to clean up Pooch’s mess. While there, he used a trowel and straightened her pansies. He didn’t hold out a lot of hope that they’d bounce back, but he tried.
Looking at the light spilling from the interior of her house, Eric felt a strange longing in his chest. Home had never meant much to him. First the military, then the Police Academy, and now the Marshal’s Office was his family. Even with two older brothers and a sister, there’d been little warmth in the Holmes’ family.
Lots of pissing contests and knock down drag outs, but not so much familial love. What could a person expect from one parent who drank like a fish and another who was constantly high? Not much chance in that environment for any kid to grow up to be normal.
He noticed Amy had pulled into her own driveway across the street and behind her boyfriend’s SUV. He’d met him several weeks ago. Nice guy, completely devoted to the woman he loved.
After dropping Pooch’s little green bag of poop in the trash, he brushed off his hands, put the trowel on his workbench, and started to go inside. Time for another beer. It was still early, barely half past seven, when he heard Jennifer call his name.
He stopped and stepped out of his garage. “What’s up, sweetcakes?”
Jennifer stood there in a windbreaker, wearing those tight yoga pants all the women wore today. She had her arms crossed and her lips tight. Damn, she should lighten up.
“Stop calling me that.”
He shrugged not wanting a verbal battle after his long day. “Okay.”
“I’d like to invite you to a Valentine’s Day party.”
He glanced from Jennifer to her house and his heart sped faster than a race car and his pulse surged loud enough for him to hear. Slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans, he lowered his gaze. “I don’t do parties.”
He refused to glance up to see the hurt and disappointment in her pretty brown eyes he knew were liberally speckled with gold. His mouth dried up and his hands grew clammy.
No, I don’t want to take responsibility for that.
“I’m not asking you to marry me. I just need a date for that night. A f
riend of mine is...”
He held up his hands, turned and walked away. “No can do. Sorry, sweetcakes.”
Inside his kitchen, he closed the automatic garage door and slumped against the wall. He’d never let himself get in that situation again.
3
Stunned by his rejection, Jennifer felt like a total loser. She hadn’t expected him, of all people, to turn her down flat. To her own chagrin, she thought he would be flattered.
Boy, am I ever clueless or what?
From the edge of his driveway to her door seemed like the longest twenty feet she’d ever walked. Burning cheeks and a sinking feeling growing in her chest, Jennifer clenched her teeth and stepped into the house. Once inside, she leaned against the door and nearly cried.
She’d sunk low enough to invite him to a party on Valentine’s Day, and even he had turned her down. Damn, he’d been her last hope. Nothing left to do but hold a man at gunpoint and make him take her to the Valentine’s Day party.
The next morning, her neighbor announced his departure by slamming his car door, revving the engine of his souped up Charger, and capping off the show with a slight squeal of his tires as he peeled out of his driveway. Did he do that just to antagonize her or was he just an overgrown teenager?
After his rejection, she’d awakened this morning with a fervent desire to take up residence elsewhere to keep from coming face to face with him. Her confidence still stung from his rejection and she wondered how she’d ever survive the awkwardness that would surely develop between them.
Jennifer decided to spend the day at home catching up on several proposals she’d been working on. The thought of going to work and being remotely tempted to extend an invitation to Jake the Snake soured her stomach.
She’d kept busy most of the day, until late afternoon when the mailman came to the door. Checking her security cameras, Jennifer smiled at the thought of getting the new sweater she’d bought online. She stood on her porch and accepted the package when she noticed something moving out of the corner of her eye.