Shooting For Love - A Standalone Novel (A Suspenseful Bad Boy Neighbor Romance Love Story) (Burbank Brothers, Book #2)

by Naomi Niles

  Polo went crazy when he saw me. He tried to jump up into my arms, but his heavy backside held him down. I got to my knees and gave him a little love.

  “Hi, buddy,” I cooed. “I missed you today. Did you miss me?”

  He covered my face in kisses as I laughed at his enthusiasm. “I have so much to tell you, buddy. I got the job, though – which means I’m actually going to be able to afford to buy a few things for this place. What do you think of that?”

  I got to my feet and went to the bedroom to change out of my blazer and shirt. Then I walked towards the kitchen. “Come on, buddy, let’s get you something to eat.”

  I was washing out his bowl in the kitchen when I looked up and noticed that the man I was gawking at earlier was walking over in the direction of my house with his brother. “Oh God,” I said, freezing. “I think they’re coming over.”

  Chapter Seven

  Peter

  “Hello? Hello?” John called.

  “Dude,” I said with irritation. “Get your hand out of my face. I need to do this properly.”

  “Did you not see her?” he asked in amazement.

  “See who?” I demanded impatiently.

  He gazed at me in shock. “You’re kidding, right? You didn’t even notice.”

  “Notice what?” I asked. “What are you on about?”

  John sighed and shook his head at me. “The new neighbor just went into her house and trust me…she does not need to be one of my clients.”

  His eyebrows were raised in appreciation, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “She was pretty huh?”

  “She was pretty,” he nodded. “Very pretty. Do you still want to go over and introduce ourselves?”

  I shrugged indifferently. “Sure, why not? If you want, I’ll be your wingman.”

  “My wingman?”

  “Yeah, you’re obviously interested in the girl,” I pointed out. “And considering that whole spiel you made this morning about wanting to find a partner in life, I assume you’re on the market and looking.”

  He rolled his eyes at me. “That wasn’t exactly what I was trying to say.”

  “That’s what it sounded like.”

  “Well then you missed the point,” Jheohn said defensively. “I was just trying to have an open conversation with my brother.”

  I laughed. “Are we going over or not?” I asked as I rose to my feet.

  John looked me up and down for a moment. “You want to go over like that?”

  “Umm…yeah, why?”

  “You’re all sweaty and greasy and…gross.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “So are you.”

  “I was planning on having a wash and changing.”

  “Well, I’m not,” I said. “You go ahead though; I’ll wait till after you’ve changed and then we can go over.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” he sighed. “I can’t go over there in a shirt when you’re standing next to me sweating like a pig. It’ll look like I’ve dressed up for a reason; it’ll seem like I have ulterior motives.”

  “But you do.”

  John punched me in the arm. “No I don’t,” he said firmly. “I just have better manners than you do.”

  “I may be losing interest in this conversation,” I told John, rolling my eyes at him.

  “Fine,” he sighed, throwing his arms up in the air. “Whatever, let’s just get this over with and go over there.”

  “You want to pluck some flowers from the back garden first?” I teased.

  “Fuck you,” he responded, as he started walking towards her house.

  I caught up to him laughing. “And, you guys think I’m not funny.”

  “Because you aren’t.”

  “I’m freaking hilarious,” I insisted. “Don’t you forget it.”

  John ignored me and rang the doorbell. There was no sound and we exchanged a glance. “It’s an old house,” I said. “The bell probably doesn’t work anymore. Just knock.”

  John knocked twice and took a step back. We heard a little woof from the other side and then the door swung open. The smile slid off my face as I came face to face with the new neighbor.

  She was standing there in skin-tight jeans that hugged her hips and accentuated the length of her slim thighs. She was wearing a pale gray tank top that bared her shoulders and revealed just the slimmest touch of skin from her toned midriff. Her hair was a rich, dark brown and that had been twisted into a messy braid that draped over her shoulder carelessly. Her eyes were large, almond shaped, and the most brilliant green I had ever seen.

  Any semblance of calm, indifference, or confidence that I’d had, disappeared at the sight of those intoxicating green eyes.

  “Hello,” she greeted warmly.

  “Hello,” John replied, offering out his hand for her to shake. “I’m John Burbank, and this is my brother Peter.”

  John glanced at me and she turned to me as well as though it was my turn to speak and I had missed my cue. “I… He… Uh… You’re welcome to the neighborhood,” I blurted out, like a complete moron.

  She had been about to offer me her hand to me to shake, like she had done with John, but I could tell that my absolute incoherency had stumped her. Her hand fell limply to her side, and I just stood there, wishing the ground would open up underneath me and swallow me whole.

  “Oh…thank you,” she smiled, after a small hesitation. “It’s so nice to meet you both. I’m Madison.”

  I could feel John’s eyes on me, boring into the side of my face. When it became clear I wasn’t going to meet his gaze, he turned back to Madison.

  “Well, we just wanted to come over and introduce ourselves,” John continued seamlessly. “And to let you know that we’d be happy to help if you ever needed anything.”

  “Oh, that’s so sweet of you,” she smiled, keeping her eyes firmly on John. “Andy told me the same thing last night, too. People in Fort Collins are so lovely. I should have moved here years ago.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” he smiled. “Peter and I are undertaking a few renovations on the house, but we’ll do our best to keep the noise down.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about that,” she said, with a wave of her hand. “I never minded a little noise.”

  I desperately wanted to say something so that she didn’t leave with the impression that I was a complete dolt who was incapable of stringing together a proper sentence, but I couldn’t seem to think of anything to say. And then I spied her dog in the corner. He was a chocolate-brown spaniel with large, round eyes and a silky coat. Instinctively, I leaned down a little and called to him.

  “Hey, boy,” I said. “Come here.”

  The moment I crouched down, the dog turned tail and bolted into the next room. I straightened up awkwardly only to realize that Madison was looking straight at me, her expression apologetic. “I’m sorry about Polo,” she said. “He’s a little weary of people.”

  “Polo?” John asked.

  “It’s short for Apollo,” Madison smiled.

  “Apollo the space mission?” he asked. “Or Apollo the Greek God.”

  Madison smiled. “The Greek God,” she replied. “I took a classics course one semester and fell in love with the names.”

  “I like it,” John nodded appreciatively, and I hated how charming he was being.

  “Thanks,” she replied, as her smile brightened at the compliment.

  “Well, anyway,” he said, wrapping up the meeting. “I don’t want to keep you.”

  “Thank you for coming over and introducing yourselves,” she said. “It really helps break the ice.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” John smiled. “So you won’t have any reservations about coming over and asking for help when you need it?”

  “Not at all,” she shook her head.

  “Great,” John nodded. “It was nice meeting you, Madison.”

  “And you, John,” she nodded, before she turned to me. “And you, too, Peter.”

  I gave her a tight smile that felt false
and then found myself walking back to the house with a hollow feeling in my gut. The moment we had reached the pile of lumber by the porch, John turned to me with wide eyes and a suppressed smile playing on his face. “What the fuck just happened to you?”

  Instead of answering him, I walked round the porch, went up the steps, and into the house where I was hidden from Madison’s line of vision. John followed behind me.

  “I… He… Uh… You’re welcome to the neighborhood,” John repeated, mimicking my dull tone and vacant expression. “Should I go back and tell her that English isn’t your first language?”

  “Oh God,” I said, banging my head against the closest wall I could find. “That was awful, wasn’t it?”

  “I’d love to lie to you buddy,” he laughed. “But I don’t think I can.”

  “Urgh,” I groaned in frustration. “I don’t know what came over me.”

  “Take a guess,” he laughed challengingly.

  “She opened the door and…”

  “And?”

  “You were wrong about her,” I said accusingly. “She’s not pretty – she’s fucking beautiful.”

  John’s smile softened. “Wow, look at you. Peter Burbank: smitten.”

  “I’m not smitten,” I objected immediately.

  “Doesn’t look that way to me,” John said, raising his eyebrows. “Seems like she had you at hello.”

  I could have argued, but what would have been the point? John knew as well as I did that Madison had affected me more than any other woman I had ever come across. And, I didn’t know a thing about her.

  “I’m going to get back to work,” I said with finality.

  “Just like that?” John asked.

  “Just like that,” I nodded.

  “Maybe you should remove your shirt before you get out there?” he suggested. “At this point, the only thing you’ve got going for you is that body. She already knows you’re not very bright.”

  I pushed past John and went back out to the pile of lumber sitting by the side of the porch. I tried desperately not to keep glancing over at Madison’s house, but it was hard to do. Because all I kept thinking was how was I going to get another chance to see her?

  Chapter Eight

  Madison

  I walked into Whitney’s beauty salon feeling optimistic and confident. The fact that Kameron hadn’t contacted me since his ominous text the day I arrived in Fort Collins significantly contributed to my good mood. Lola greeted me with a nod and a smile as I walked in.

  “Where’s Whitney?” I asked.

  “In the back,” Lola replied. “She’ll be out in a minute.”

  The moment Lola finished speaking, Whitney stepped out of her office in a red mini skirt and a white, off-the-shoulder blouse. The purple streaks in her hair clashed with the red of her skirt, but somehow, it was an attractive clash that drew the eye.

  “Madison!” Whitney cried, coming forward and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “You ready to get to work today?”

  “Definitely!” I said, with enthusiasm. “I’m really excited!”

  “Good,” Whitney nodded. “‘Cause I am, too, and I’ve realized that getting excited is against Lola’s moral principles.”

  I laughed. “Is that so?” I asked, turning to Lola.

  She rolled her eyes and flipped through the magazine in her hand. “I’m the Yin to Whitney’s Yang,” she retorted. “She’ll come to appreciate my calm and unhurried manner.”

  Whitney rolled her eyes and sank into one of her chairs. “Since we don’t have any appointments yet, why don’t you take a seat and we can get better acquainted?”

  “Sure,” I nodded, with a small pang of unease. I liked Whitney, but I had a few skeletons in my closet and I wasn’t willing to share them with anyone yet. So instead of waiting for her to start the conversation, I jumped in first. “How long have you lived in Fort Collins?”

  “My whole life,” she replied. “I was born here, went to high school and college in the state. I’ve never really been far from home.”

  “I assume your family lives here?”

  “My parents do,” Whitney nodded. “I have an older sister, but she relocated to Texas after she got married, so we visit her every so often. Frankly, I can’t stand Texas, but it’s important to my parents that we meet for important occasions.”

  “Christmas and Thanksgiving?” I asked. “That sort of thing?”

  “I wish that was it,” Whitney sighed, as though she had a burden on her shoulders. “There are also birthdays, anniversaries, and the occasional Fourth of July. My family likes to celebrate shit.’

  I laughed. “They sound like a fun bunch.”

  “They grow on you,” she said fondly. “But it takes about eighteen years. My parents were pedantic about family meals and such. We could never miss them and Lucy and I had to be at the table at meal times or there would be hell to pay. Mom thought eating together as a family was really important.”

  “Wow,” I said, feeling a small pang of jealousy. “Is it still like that?”

  “Well, I don’t live with Mom and Dad anymore,” Whitney replied. “But Friday dinner and Sunday lunch is always at their house and I have to be on time or I get a hundred calls from Mom. It’s gotten a little better now that the salon is open, though; they’re a little more understanding when I’m late.”

  “They must be proud of you.”

  “Like you wouldn’t believe,” she laughed. “I’ve been talking about opening up a beauty parlor since I was thirteen years old. I don’t think even they believed I was serious. So when I finally did it, they were thrilled to get on board.”

  “They sound like amazing parents,” I sighed. “You’re really lucky.”

  Whitney’s smile grew thoughtful. “Tell me about your family,” she said.

  I tensed immediately, but I decided that evading the question would only fuel her curiosity. “To be honest, I didn’t really have parents, at least not good ones. My father was a drifter who left when I was a baby, and my mother was an alcoholic who made some bad choices. I don’t really have contact with either one of them.”

  “Oh,” Whitney said, with wide eyes. “I’m sorry to hear that. What about your brother? You mentioned you had one yesterday.”

  “I do,” I nodded. “His name is Victor. He’s a couple of years older than I am, but I’ve always felt like the older one.”

  “How so?”

  I hesitated for a moment. “He…takes after my mother,” I said slowly. “He has a habit of making bad decisions.”

  “Is that why you moved closer to him?” Whitney asked, and I realized that she had absorbed every bit of the conversation we’d had the day before. I had forgotten that I’d even mentioned Victor.

  “It was,” I nodded. “Not that it did much help – for either of us.”

  Whitney was looking at me questioningly, but that was not a conversation I wanted to have on my first day of work. Thankfully, I was spared from having to explain further when the bell above the entrance chimed as a client walked in.

  “Hello.”

  “Welcome,” Whitney greeted, as she jumped from her chair and walked over to the silver-haired woman. “My name is Whitney. How can I help you today?”

  “Well, I was just passing by and saw the new salon. I thought I might take a look and see what you have to offer.”

  “Well, you’re in luck,” Whitney said. “Given that we just opened, I’m offering all walk-ins a ten percent discount.”

  “Really?”

  “Really,” she smiled.

  “Well in that case, I could do with a haircut. My grandkids are coming into town tomorrow, you see.”

  “Fantastic,” Whitney nodded. “Madison, would you like to take this client?”

  “Oh, sure,” I replied in delight, walking up to the new client and shaking her hand. “I’m Madison. Please, take a seat, ma’am.”

  “Oh, I hate that ma’am nonsense,” she said. “It makes me feel old. Call me Berta.�
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  “Berta it is then,” I nodded, as I secured her shoulders with a cover up. “Now, what kind of cut would you like?”

  “Short,” Berta replied readily. “And make it…fashionable and high flying.”

  Whitney and I exchanged a smile. “You got it,” I said.

  “Are you the owner?” Berta asked Whitney inquisitively.

  Whitney nodded proudly. “I am. And, Madison’s here my new employee. This is her first day.”

  “Not cutting hair I hope?”

  I laughed. “Don’t you worry, I have plenty of experience cutting hair. This is just my first day working for Whitney.”

  “That’s a relief,” Berta joked. “Are you new in town?”

  “I am,” I nodded. “Brand new actually.”

  “Madison just moved into the house in Forest Hills,” Whitney offered up conversationally.

  “Next to the Burbank boys?” Berta asked immediately.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Man, those boys seem to be famous in this town.”

  “Such wonderful boys with such a tragic story,” Berta said, obviously keen on narrating the tale.

  I had to admit I was curious about them, especially after my meeting with Peter and John the day before. John had done most of the talking. He had been polite and friendly, but it was Peter who had left a lasting impression on me. Both brothers were handsome, but it was Peter that I found myself drawn to. There was just something about him.

  “I met them yesterday actually,” I offered. “Well, two of them, at least.”

  “Oh?” Whitney said with interest, and Berta’s eyes perked up, as well.

  “Which ones?” Berta asked.

  “Peter and John,” I replied.

  “Peter!” she said fondly. “He’s a wonderful man. You know he’s helped me out quite a few times over the years.”

  “How so?” I asked with interest.

  “I had some problematic neighbors one time,” she explained. “Lots of noise, loud parties, it was chaotic. I lodged a noise complaint with the police, and Peter came over to see to it. He walked over and had a talk with the boys there and sorted it out for me. He used to patrol the neighborhood when he was a rookie cop and brought Raoul back on three different occasions.”