The Troublemaker Next Door

by Marie Harte

  “Oh. A picnic?”

  “A barbecue.”

  “I’d say I have to check my calendar, but not anymore. I’m free for the immediate future.” She paused. “Man, that doesn’t sound good, does it?”

  “You being free?”

  “Me whining about my job again. I’m done with that. I’d love to go to a barbecue. I haven’t been to one in years. That’s really nice of your parents.”

  “Good.”

  “I can’t answer for Vanessa or Abby, but if they’re not working, I know they’d love to be there.”

  “Great.” Good, great. She reduced him to one-word answers. He couldn’t think about more than her mouth, watching her form each word with those plump, red lips. She’d been so soft yesterday, and that brief kiss had given him some wet dreams last night. Hell, he hadn’t come in his sheets since he’d been a teenager. But this morning he’d had to dump his sheets in the washer before joining his family for church. Church—talk about a buzzkill. Yet here he stood, across from the object of his fantasies.

  “You okay, Flynn?” She frowned. “You look a little funny.”

  “Mike told me to leave you alone,” he blurted.

  “Why?”

  “Cautioned me not to screw over his neighbors, because he didn’t want to deal with a bunch of annoyed women.”

  “What do you mean?” She took a step back and bumped against the counter.

  He closed the distance between them and caged her between his arms. It gratified him to hear her breathing as raspy and uneven as his. “I know you hate men. That you had a crappy day on Friday. And that you have some things to iron out. I just wanted to thank you for yesterday. Nothing more than that. Okay?”

  She licked her lips, and he forced himself to keep an inch or two between them. Fucking her on the counter would have to wait, because her roommates would be back soon.

  “Thank me for apologizing? But you don’t have to—”

  “Yes, Maddie. I do.” She didn’t understand. He did have to, or he’d lose his ever-loving mind. His lips met hers, and he forgot his own name.

  Chapter 4

  Maddie could barely breathe. The feel of Flynn’s mouth on hers sucked away her breath, her reason, her ability to think. His lips felt a lot different than they had yesterday. Still firm beneath her, he now exuded some kind of attractant because she wanted nothing more than to wrap her legs around his waist and hold on for the ride. And that scent. He wore a subtle cologne, a hint of citrus and man that made her want to snuggle close and sniff him while she rubbed all over his kick-ass body.

  His lips teased, gentle yet persistent. He didn’t rush her, and to feel a man like Flynn exploring like he had all the time in the world turned her knees to jelly. She’d never before experienced a kiss that put her at the center of a man’s world. His concentration focused on her, on tasting her. With a slow swipe of his tongue, he coaxed her to open her mouth. When she did, he slid his tongue inside, grazing her lips and teeth. Then he stirred her entire body into a rhythmic beat. His tongue entered and retreated, as if he was making love to her mouth.

  She groaned, totally turned on, especially when he moaned and deepened the kiss.

  Her nipples hurt, hard and sensitive. Her body throbbed, and she swore she’d need to change her panties after this.

  Flynn let her go to get another breath of air. She drew in a deep breath seconds before he descended again, this time less careful, hungrier. Still, the aggravating man didn’t touch her with more than his mouth, and the frustration built. She wanted his hands on her, to cup her breasts, slide between her legs, and make her feel so good.

  It had been more than two months since any intimacies with Ben, and even those had been scheduled around his work or hers. Nothing spontaneous, and nothing nearly as good as this kiss from a man she’d just met.

  A large hand settled on her rib cage, and she trembled. She absolutely loved having her sides stroked. Trust Flynn to accidentally find a sweet spot.

  He gripped her tighter then released her, rubbing his fingers against her ribs with shocking potency. Then he broke the kiss, breathing hard. “Maddie. Holy shit.” He leaned his forehead against hers, and to her surprise, he shook like she did. “I didn’t mean to… That was… I just wanted to say thanks.”

  He pulled back, took his hand away, and placed it on the counter again. Not touching, but so close, he overwhelmed her with his size and strength. The pulse beat at his throat, and he swallowed hard.

  What could she say? “You’re welcome,” came out in a throaty whisper.

  “God, you’re beautiful.” He stroked a finger down her cheek then shook his head and stepped back. “I need to go. Some things to do before tomorrow. So I can count on you to show on Saturday at two?”

  She nodded, not sure she could speak again.

  “Great.” He winced. “I can’t think beyond good and great right now.” He didn’t make sense, but then, he didn’t need to. Not when he could kiss like that.

  Still bemused, she walked him to the door and waved when he left.

  Not sure she liked what she’d just turned into, Maddie forced herself to put on her shoes and go out for a walk. She locked the door behind her, tapped the key in her pocket, and lost herself in a muddied knot of sensation, images of a half-naked Flynn, and the uneasy notion that she’d somehow traded one obsession for another. Her work for the knockout plumber.

  She returned to the house a few hours later to find two very annoyed women waiting on the front step.

  “About freakin’ time.” Vanessa ripped the key from Maddie’s hand.

  “Oh, uh, sorry.”

  Abby scowled. “Locking the door is good. Locking it when the key’s not”—she lowered her voice—“in its hiding spot is annoying.”

  Maddie cringed. Her fault, totally, since she’d taken the spare key from the flower pot yesterday. She had no intention of explaining why she’d been so distracted this morning, so she fibbed just a bit. “I’m sorry, guys. My head’s not right. I can’t stop thinking about work.”

  Abby raised a brow. “Oh? I was thinking a handsome man with flowers turned your head.”

  Maddie concentrated on thinking about work and work only. Fred, remember what he did to you. “Yeah, about that. Flynn came by to invite us all to his mom and dad’s next week. Barbecue on Saturday. He also gave me flowers. Said he felt bad about what happened to me on Friday.”

  Abby started to soften. Vanessa wasn’t moved.

  “Yeah, whatever.” Her cousin huffed. “Next time, moon around town after the key’s back in the pot.”

  “Oh, ease up, hard-ass.” Abby took Maddie and ushered her inside. “So what did your wandering thoughts tell you to do?”

  The three of them walked through the house and pushed through the back door. They sat on the porch, staring at the masses of flowers and vegetables. A few butterflies appeared, and the scent of honeysuckle relaxed Maddie enough to share what she’d tentatively planned.

  “Something Flynn said yesterday had me thinking.”

  “I’ll bet it did.” Vanessa wiggled her eyebrows.

  “Get your head out of the guy’s pants.” Maddie frowned, inwardly telling herself the same thing. “After the initial panic of losing my job, I thought about all the places I’d send my resume, hoping Fred wouldn’t blacklist me before I could find something else. I’ve always planned to one day run my own firm, but not yet. I don’t have enough in savings, the clients, or the plans vested to start my own firm.”

  “But…” Abby encouraged.

  “But then Flynn mentioned staging.” At Vanessa’s blank look, she explained, “You know, when someone wants to sell a house but their furniture makes the place look too small or too ugly? Then stagers come in and move the furniture around. Sometimes, depending upon how involved they get, they can paint the place, rent and position new furniture, all to make it more appealing to home buyers.”

  “Oh right. I watch those shows on TV all the time.” Abby
nodded.

  Vanessa frowned. “Don’t Robin and Kim already do that?”

  “Kind of.” Maddie needed to call them, to see what her friends thought of the idea. “Our firm—I mean, Hampton’s Designs—used to use them to rent furniture and stage it when we sold ideas to clients. Kim and Robin mostly purchase the furniture in their warehouse for rentals. But I’d be designing with it.”

  “That’s actually not a bad idea. You can still do interior decorating, but with so many people trying to buy and sell nowadays, you hit a decent market. Now you just need to figure out how much it will cost to do business, and to see what your competitors are up to.”

  Trust Vanessa to have to throw in some suggestions. Give the woman an inch, she’d run over you by a mile. And with her big feet, she’d hurt you when she finished.

  “Thanks.” They sat together enjoying the sunlight.

  Vanessa, not surprisingly, had to ruin it. “So the flowers…”

  “Yeah, the flowers.” Abby leaned closer. “How come Flynn didn’t bring me any? I was the nice one. I didn’t say anything about men being pricks and hating them all.”

  Vanessa laughed. “Nice. No wonder he seemed so scared at the door.”

  “He wasn’t scared.” Maddie glared. “It was very thoughtful of him to bring flowers. And the invitation wasn’t just to me, it’s to all of us.” When Vanessa and Abby exchanged a glance, she snapped, “What?”

  Abby answered, making no effort to hide her grin. “Your lips look a little bruised, Maddie. And Flynn didn’t just bring you cheapo carnations. That’s a date bouquet if I ever saw one.”

  “You write fiction. What do you know?”

  Vanessa had to chime in, “She knows plenty. Remember, she listens to those bozos every Friday night, for their ‘man talk.’ Personally, I think she gets off on the voyeur aspect of spying.”

  Abby blushed. “I listen. I don’t look.”

  Vanessa shrugged. “Whatever. So Abby, is Flynn dating anyone right now?”

  “No, he’s not dating anyone right now, you big-footed heifer. He broke up with his last bimbo over a month ago.”

  “Perfect.” Vanessa clapped her hands and smiled at Maddie. “Now you can be his bimbo.”

  Maddie wanted to slap her cousin silly. Instead, she counted to ten before she answered. “You’re hilarious. Ha ha. I’m not a bimbo, and I’m not into men right now. Or women,” she added before Vanessa could add another obnoxious comment. “I don’t want to date anyone.” Yeah, hormones, listen up. No more men. Kisses or no kisses, he’s not my type. He’s too good-looking. Too muscular. Too everything. “Remember, I broke up with Ben too. I didn’t just lose a job. Besides, I have too much at stake right now. It’s going to take all my energy just to get this job thing going.”

  Vanessa nodded. “You do have a point, and it’s nice to see you behaving rationally about it. Research, planning, talent. You can definitely make a go of it if you do it right.”

  “Thanks, I think.”

  “No, that’s a compliment.” Abby nodded. “She said the same thing to me when I decided to stop working for other people and work for myself. At first she called me nuts for quitting my day job to write. Because let’s face it, how many wackos out there with a blog are writing right now? I’m a wacko, and I write. But I had a vision.”

  “And another job or two to back you up,” Vanessa said drily. “You segued into your own business before you ever considered writing full time. Now you make ends meet, barely, mind you—”

  “Thanks so much.”

  Vanessa continued. “But you’re smart about it. You’re dedicated to your work, and it shows. And now you’re venturing into, well, I won’t say virgin territory, but those smutty books are making you some serious cash.”

  Abby’s lips flattened. Oh boy. Not this argument again. “They’re not smutty books, Vanessa. They’re erotic romance. Not dirty, not porn, not smut. It’s about love experienced through sexual connection. Something you wouldn’t know much about.”

  Maddie’s thoughts immediately went to Flynn. “And on that note, I’m out of here. I have some stuff to do, calls to make.” Neither roommate looked up as she left, engaged in a familiar argument that would build until Abby stormed away madder than a scalded cat.

  Once upstairs in her room, Maddie sank back onto her bed and wondered if she was doing the right thing. Granted, she’d been through a lot the past few days, but going it on her own? That was a lot to take on. Could she do it? Did she really have the nerve to try?

  Not short on gumption, which she’d inherited from her mother, Maddie had been working since she could remember. Just her and her mom, and they’d never had much money. Every paycheck stretched thin. They scrimped and saved no matter the occasion. Second-hand became second nature, and Maddie had learned to make a dollar stretch like nobody’s business.

  Even Vanessa didn’t know how bad it had been. When Michelle Gardner took her daughter to see relatives for a week or two during the summer and on odd holidays, the visits remained short and sweet. For years Maddie had begged to stay longer, until during one visit she’d overheard her grandmother bashing her mother. Apparently the mistake of getting knocked up at sixteen with a boy from the wrong side of the tracks never went away, no matter how hard her mother worked to make things right by Grandma Gardner.

  Maddie had never known her father, a man who supposedly had his own troubles. Her mother never spoke ill of him. Hell, she never spoke of him, period. The woman had too much on her plate to worry about a deadbeat ex-boyfriend.

  Michelle worked extra hard to make up for her youthful indiscretion. Too full of pride, Maddie had once heard her aunt say of her mother. But Maddie didn’t think her mother had enough pride. At forty-four, with no education but the GED she’d managed to earn after giving birth to her daughter, the woman still worked seven days a week. Chapped hands, premature gray hair, and back problems made her mother look a decade older than her age. Yet the woman acted so pleased to still be living on her own, with no help or handouts from anyone. It saddened Maddie to return home, seeing her mother so physically beat down.

  The stubborn woman repeatedly refused Maddie’s offer to move her out West. She wouldn’t allow Maddie to give her money either. Her mother had friends and a routine she had no plans to give up, especially not for a daughter she’d raised to be independent.

  Maddie thought again about calling her mother for support. Mom would understand, and she’d offer both sympathy and sound advice, but Maddie didn’t want to let her down. Every accomplishment, every accolade she’d earned had made her mother so proud. She didn’t want to add her mom’s disappointment and worry on top of her own anxiety.

  With a deep breath, she rose from the bed and sat at her vanity, now free of any and all makeup. She plunked down her laptop and started researching, starting her life over from scratch.

  ***

  Three days later, Maddie sat outside the Starbucks on Queen Anne on a sunny afternoon, glorying in the day. Her meeting with Kim and Robin had been more than productive; it had been enlightening. Not only were her friends excited for her to start her business, they’d wondered what had taken her so long. With them behind her, she planned to make a real go of things. Her fears of being two doors from the poorhouse had faded, though not disappeared completely.

  At the thought, she knew she needed to bite the bullet. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed her mother’s number. Despite the time difference, she knew Michelle Gardner would be hard at work at the diner.

  Her mother answered, breathless. “Maddie?”

  “I knew I needed to get my caller ID changed,” Maddie teased then took a sip of her latte. “How are you, Mom?”

  “Great, now that my baby girl has finally called. Hold on a sec.” She muffled the phone, and Maddie could hear her ask for a few minutes.

  Maddie would have felt bad about interrupting, but since her mother never did anything but work, the woman could use a spare minute to take a break
.

  “So why haven’t you called me in forever? I was getting worried, Madison.”

  Maddie had talked to the woman two weeks ago. Her mother had a definite knack for instilling remorse, deserved or not. “Sorry, but I’ve been busy with work and trying to keep Abby and Vanessa from killing each other. Abby’s got deadlines, and you know that’s always a rough time to get through.”

  Her mother laughed. “I love that girl. So creative. And how is your cousin, anyway? Still trying to boss everyone around?”

  “When isn’t she? She’s Aunt Loretta’s daughter, go figure.”

  “Poor kid.”

  Maddie snorted, thinking the same. She made small talk with her mother, wanting to but not quite having the courage to mention her new venture as an entrepreneur. She wanted to prove to herself she could succeed before telling her mother.

  For a few minutes, they discussed the diner, her mother’s new neighbor, and life on the East Coast versus Maddie’s cooler summer out West. Finally a conversation that didn’t veer into Maddie’s personal life, of which her mother never seemed to approve.

  “And what about your doctor? You haven’t said anything about Ben.”

  Crap. Might as well get it over with. “Ah, we’re no longer together.”

  “Good. I never liked him. Though I did get worried that he lasted longer than the others you’ve dated.”

  Maddie hadn’t expected her mother to be pleased she’d once again broken up with someone. “What? Why?”

  “He was too stifling.”

  She thought her mother had liked Ben. A doctor with a decent background, and he’d always paid when they’d gone out. Maddie had never talked bad about him. So what wasn’t to like? “You never even met him.”

  “I didn’t need to.” Her mother sniffed. “Everything you described about him sounded just like all the others you’ve dated. Dull. Not a challenge, and not what you need, honey.”

  They’d had this conversation more times than Maddie liked to count. Maddie tried to change the subject. “You know, Mom, it’s surprising how nice it is today. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping. And for once, Starbucks isn’t overcrowded.”