The Troublemaker Next Door

by Marie Harte

  “You’re funny and smart, but you let a jerk like Kevin make you feel like a fool.”

  “Gee, Maddie. Thanks for ruining my day.” Abby frowned.

  “My point is, you’re one up on me in so many ways, but you’re not nearly as confident as you should be. Heck, I’m pretty happy about myself, and I don’t even have a job.” And just like that, her self-assuredness plummeted. Don’t panic. It’s just a minor setback, not a life-altering moment. I don’t think.

  Abby stood, grabbed her by the arm, and tugged her back through the house. She opened the front door and shoved Maddie outside. “Stop thinking about yesterday and go see if Flynn is over there. If not, at least thank Mike for us. It’s the right thing to do.”

  Grumbling at bossy short people who drank too much caffeine and developed attitudes like Vanessa, Maddie slipped on her shoes then walked the short distance next door. Like their house, this one had Craftsman-style architecture. A large porch with a hanging swing she envied, and pots of flowers all over the place. She’d never seen Mike outside tending to them, but then again, she spent most of her days from sun up to sun down at work. And for the past few months, she’d spent what little off time she had with Ben. That hypocrite.

  It was all fine and dandy for him to ask her to cancel her plans for one of his benefit dinners or a call he had to make to a hospital, or to rearrange her life to suit his profession. But God forbid she cancel a date because she needed to confer with a client. She wouldn’t compare interior design to medicine, but her career meant something to her, even if she wasn’t saving lives. Or treating athlete’s foot, she thought nastily.

  The door opened in front of her, and she blinked at a sleepy-eyed stranger wearing nothing more than tan shorts and a smile. “Well, hello there.”

  The clear charm earned a smile from her, even though she still hated men. She could hate an entire gender and appreciate a work of art, though, couldn’t she? He probably wasn’t a McCauley, unless this one was a honey-haired throwback. His hair stuck up in places, indicating a good case of bed head. Amber eyes full of laughter and speculation teased her to enjoy the moment. She didn’t know why, but his good mood seemed infectious.

  “I just wanted to thank Mike and Flynn for the plumbing work yesterday. I don’t want to inter”—he dragged her into the house before she could finish—“rupt.”

  “Just wait here. I’ll be right back.” He tore off down a hallway past the living room that looked like a bomb had hit it. Pizza boxes, soda cans, beer bottles, and peanut shells littered every available table and parts of the floor. Underneath the mess, she sensed the potential for a really nice house. But stereotypical man furniture took up too much space.

  A brown recliner, leather couch, and tan curtains accented with, gee, brown trim, cluttered the busy living room. Not to be outdone, the big-screen television sat on the far wall, detracting from the focal point of the room, which should have been a gorgeous stone fireplace.

  Just then, a groan shook a blanket, a few cans, and a pizza box that fell off the lump on the sofa. She hadn’t noticed the hand dangling from the couch until now. To her shock, a man unfolded from the furniture.

  No, not a man, a disheveled Adonis who blinked at her in shock. He wore nothing but a pair of low-riding boxer briefs. Every ridge of muscle in his abdomen and chest flexed as he took in a breath. Then he raised his hands to wipe his eyes, and she tried not to gape when his arms bunched and his biceps begged her to touch.

  “Maddie?”

  Flynn McCauley looked even better half naked than he had wearing jeans and a T-shirt. She tried really hard to remember how much she hated men. Just when she thought she could say something without sounding too out of breath, Colin McCauley walked through the living room looking barely awake. He wore Spider-Man underpants and rubbed his eyes, reminding her so much of Flynn that she smiled.

  “Hi, Colin.”

  He stopped under the archway to the kitchen, turned to stare at her, and screamed, “Girrlllllll!” Shrieking, he raced back the way he’d come, running with one hand covering his tiny butt.

  Deep voices sounded from the back rooms. What sounded like Mike and the guy from the front door.

  “Sorry about that. He’s in an anti-girl phase. We keep telling him it’ll pass.” Flynn hadn’t blinked yet. “Guess I should go put something on.”

  Not on my account. “Oh, right. I’m really sorry to bother you. But it’s noon, so I didn’t think—”

  “Noon?”

  “Yeah.” And she thought she’d slept in. “Rough night?”

  He glanced around him and frowned. “I guess. Man, when Mike sees this, he’s going to shit a brick.” He looked back at her and flushed.

  Good Lord, could the man be any more attractive?

  “Be right back.” He darted around the couch and disappeared.

  Mike appeared at the mouth of the hallway followed by the other guy and Colin. “Sorry about the noise, we—”

  He stopped dead at the sight of the living room. Before he could say a word, the guy behind him started talking.

  “Don’t blow a gasket. Flynn and I will clean it up. All of it.”

  “You’d better, Brody, or I’ll,” he paused, checked himself, and finished with a glance at Colin, “I’ll put you in time-out in the corner.” He added in a low voice, “In a body bag.”

  Mike, at least, wore jeans and a T-shirt with some cartoon characters on it, which were mirrored by his son behind him. They looked so cute, like a matched set. She couldn’t help grinning.

  “Not my fault. Today, Colin got to pick what I wear,” he said, seeing her smile.

  “It’s fair, because you never let me wear what I want to camp.” Colin’s mouth set in a stubborn line.

  Uh-oh. Family squabble. “I’d better go. Sorry for intruding. I just wanted to say—”

  “You threw away my favorite shirt.” Colin tilted his chin, the same way Mike had when he’d looked at Brody. In challenge.

  “Don’t go.” Brody magically appeared and gently nudged her away from the front door. “Want something to drink? Eat? I promise, the kitchen is clean.”

  “Are you herding me?”

  “It’s working, isn’t it?” He whispered, “Didn’t want you to see the drama behind you. Colin’s playing it up because we’re here. I knew the little guy wasn’t going to let that shirt go.”

  She walked with him out of the room into the kitchen and sat at the surprisingly clean table. This room she liked. Done in muted grays, blacks, and blues, the ceramic tiled floor and granite countertops definitely suited Mike. Now if she could get him to part with the rest of his furniture, or at least arrange it another way, it would look so much better.

  She couldn’t help designing, and then she remembered again that she had no job.

  “Who are you?” she asked finally. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

  “I’m sorry.” He held out a large hand. “Brody Singer. The unofficially adopted member of the McCauley clan.” Flynn walked into the room and Brody added, “And Flynn’s boss.”

  Flynn shot him a dirty look. “Try partner. Brody and I are the masters behind McSons Plumbing.”

  She shook Brody’s hand. “Madison Gardner. But call me Maddie.” She turned to Flynn. “And about yesterday…” She shouldn’t stay, not since she hated men. Hated what they looked like with those muscular chests. Hated the strong muscles of Brody’s thighs in those khaki shorts. Hated the way Flynn’s strong neck drew her attention to his broad shoulders. “I wanted to say thank you for fixing our sink. I didn’t get a chance before.” Her cheeks heated, but she couldn’t help it.

  Flynn sat down next to her and lifted her hand. He shocked her by kissing the back of it. “Sorry you had such a bad day. If you want, I can go kick your boss’s ass. It’s no problem at all.”

  He did seem pretty serious. So did Brody, nodding behind him.

  “Ah, no. That’s okay. I’ll handle it.”

  Brody took a seat across from
her. “You’re not going to still work for the guy, are you?”

  “I quit.” She swallowed hard, still coming to grips with the decision.

  “Good for you.” Flynn nodded. “I tell you, Brody and I worked for this real ass—dirtbag when we first started out. We learned as much as we could, then moved on. Luckily, I’m smart enough, and he’s pretty enough, that we hired on somewhere else before making a go of it ourselves. You ever think of that? Working for yourself?”

  Only all the time. “Yeah.”

  “Great. It’s hard, but if you’re bossy, like Brody is—”

  “You’re kidding, right? I’m bossy?”

  “Then it’s the best way to go,” Flynn finished. “I love being my own boss. Of course, it helps we have a kick-ass accountant to do our books. You have someone who could handle the financial aspect of things?”

  “Um, yeah.” Vanessa. But… working for herself now? She’d need to build clients, start padding her resume, find a place to set up shop, start advertising…

  “What do you do again?” Flynn asked. “I forget, something you said about designing, right? My aunt sells houses. Just the other day she was complaining about how much staging impacts a sale. Of course, I had to ask her what staging was, but when she told me, I was floored people will pay more for a house decorated the right way. I mean, it’s the same house either way, right?”

  A lightbulb clicked, and she wondered if she ought to hold off on submitting her resume to other designers. With a lot of luck, and a little bit of help, she could start working for herself sooner than she’d intended. Not designing. That wouldn’t do for the immediate future. But maybe staging…?

  “Thank you.” Hope sparking in her breast for the first time since the disaster had struck. Bursting with it, she leaned into Flynn, cupped his cheeks, and planted a kiss on his smooth, firm lips.

  No one moved or said a thing when she stood, waved, and left, brimming with positivity once more.

  ***

  Flynn couldn’t stop staring after her.

  “That was gross.” Colin made retching sounds, standing with his father right behind him.

  Brody grinned. “Hot dayum, son, you look like you just got walloped with a lead pipe.”

  “I feel like it.” And said lead pipe was growing in his pants. Holy shit. No question, he had to have that woman. If one innocent kiss had been enough to get him this hard, he could only imagine what it would feel like to be in bed with her.

  “Uh-uh. No. I know that look, and forget it.” Mike scowled.

  In front of him, Colin scowled as well.

  “You two are like bookends. One big, one small.” Brody mussed with Colin’s hair, and Colin slapped at him, until the two of them were mock wrestling. Colin gurgled with laughter while Brody tickled him.

  “Idiot.” Mike shook his head at Brody. “I mean it, Flynn.”

  “You’re not the boss of me.” Flynn grinned.

  Colin agreed. “Yeah, Dad. Only Grandpa and Gramma can tell Uncle Flynn what to do.”

  “Ya think?” Mike reached for his son and proceeded to show him who was in charge until he cried uncle. Literally.

  “He mean me or you?” Brody asked, watching the pair with affection.

  “Please. I’m the boy’s favorite. You all know it.” But his mind was on other things. “Okay, Mike. Quit playing around and call Mom. I want her to invite the neighbors over next week. Make it Saturday. Brody and I are clear that weekend.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, I am. And don’t mess with me on this, or I’ll go right back over there and give her a kiss I won’t walk away from. You get me?”

  Colin gagged again, but Brody gave him a thumbs-up.

  After being forced to clean up the living room by a man who’d lived like a slob the better part of his growing years, Flynn went home to change into work clothes. He and Brody had a job at three that ended up lasting a few hours, then he returned to his apartment and did a little cleaning of his own. Located downtown near the market, his place afforded him the opportunity to park his truck and walk to any number of shops for what he needed.

  Since he rarely spent time at home, more often at Mike’s, his parents’, or working, he didn’t have much more to do than dust and pick up a few odds and ends. He did some laundry and settled down to watch a movie. Something with blood and guns. And sex, which of course made him think of Maddie. Damn. He’d been a long time between women if just the thought of a date with her could make his heart race and his body come alive.

  Annoyed at his hard-on that refused to leave, he fast-forwarded past the sex parts and tried to focus on the mindless violence. Not long after, he drifted into sleep. Unfortunately, he dreamed of nothing but Maddie.

  ***

  Standing in front of her door the next day with a bouquet of daisies and praying his brother wouldn’t see him, Flynn waited with a sense of nervous anticipation he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Before he could knock, the door opened.

  Abby and a tall, beautiful blond stood staring at him in surprise. They were dressed in workout gear, showing off a nice expanse of sculpted legs. A nice way to break in a Sunday after a boring hour of church service.

  “Hey, Flynn.” Abby smiled. “Nice to see you.” She glanced at the flowers in his hand and her smile widened.

  “Don’t tell me. You’re the handyman.” The blond tilted her head, looking him up and down. Cool, assertive, and attractive. But she didn’t do it for him. Nor did the short brunette by her side.

  “Plumber, actually.” He held out his hand, not surprised when she gripped it with a firm shake. “Flynn McCauley.”

  “Vanessa Campbell. Nice to meet you. We’d stay, but we’re already behind schedule.”

  Abby made a face. “Yeah, late for a date with death.”

  Flynn smiled. Abby looked pathetic, Vanessa impatient. A lot like him and Cam when his brother started nagging him to exercise. Luckily, the autocrat had been too busy with work lately to obsess about training. “I feel for you, Abby.”

  “I’ll probably drop dead of a heart attack. Flynn, if I’m not back in an hour, call 9-1-1.” She groaned when Vanessa grabbed her by the hand and dragged her into the front yard.

  “A little warm-up, then we’ll stop and stretch.” Vanessa rattled off a bunch of tidbits about lactic acid and muscle memory while Abby griped and complained.

  “Good luck,” he called after the pair, then turned to see Maddie walking down the stairs.

  The woman wore nothing more than a pair of well-worn shorts and a T-shirt that molded to her curves not constrained by a bra. Thank you, God. She really did have a killer rack. He could just imagine holding those breasts in his hands, feeling their softness as he thumbed over her nipples. Her hair was mussed, and she barely caught a yawn. When she saw Flynn, she stopped in her tracks.

  “Morning. Or should I say, afternoon?” When she continued to say nothing, he asked, “May I come in?”

  “Sure.” She turned around, raced back up the stairs, and yelled, “Be right back.”

  “O-kay.” Flynn walked inside and shut the door behind him. He’d spent the first few years of his life in this house. Something about the open airiness of it had always screamed fairies and pixies to him. Not that he’d ever tell his brothers he imagined fairies had lived in the garden, but hell, he’d been all of four. Then Cam had started walking, and they’d moved a few blocks over into a bigger spread. But he’d never forgotten his fondness for this place.

  He shook his head when he saw his impression from Friday remained the same. Everything seemed so tidy. How could people live like this? No clutter, no mess. It was like Mike’s, but without the funk of dirty socks and little kid smell.

  “I had to change.” She sounded out of breath when she found him in the foyer again.

  “Sorry to put you out.” He smiled, wishing she hadn’t changed a thing. But with or without a bra, Maddie looked incredible. She’d brushed her hair, and he wanted to touch
it, to see if it felt as soft as it looked. Her shirt still clung to her curves, but left more to the imagination since she’d put on underclothes.

  “What’s up?” She shoved her hands in her back pockets.

  He forced himself to keep his gaze level with her eyes. He offered her the flowers. “These are for you. Not only for that apology yesterday, but for freaking out my nephew. I don’t think a girl has ever seen Colin in his Spidey shorts before.”

  She flushed and laughed. “He hit a really high pitch as he raced from the room. I hope he’s not too embarrassed.”

  “Nope. We McCauleys can handle a lot. Look at me. I’m not too scarred after you caught me in my briefs.”

  The pink on her cheeks deepened. “They weren’t exactly briefs.”

  Pleased she’d noticed, he continued, “And hey, I surprised you this morning. I guess we’re even.”

  She clutched the flowers. “I guess we are.”

  Silence settled between them, one fraught with a tension Flynn could only describe as sexual. He would have been content to stare at her all day. She had a darker complexion than he would have expected on a redhead. Not pale, her olive skin turned a delightful pink when she was embarrassed. Her face could have graced any of the magazines stacked neatly on her coffee table, yet her nose had a smattering of freckles at the bridge that stopped her short of perfection.

  And her eyes… He was drowning in them, caught in the amber color that looked gold one minute, deep brown the next. He wondered what she saw when she looked at him. Did she feel the attraction? Was his interest flattering, or was he one more creep like all the rest who no doubt fell at her feet when confronted with such beauty?

  “I should put these in water,” she said in a husky voice that made him want to take her in his arms and carry her upstairs.

  “Yeah.” He cleared his throat and followed her into the kitchen, unable to look away from her curves. Man, that ass just begged to be held. “Ah, so the reason I stopped by. My mom and dad are having a picnic next Saturday and wanted to invite you guys. Think you all could swing by around two?” He hadn’t confirmed the date or time yet, but he knew his mother wouldn’t say no, and whatever she wanted, Dad agreed to.