The Neighborhood Series (The Neighborhoood)

by Tarrah Anders

  “What did I want to talk about?” she asks.

  “Telling your parents that I was your boyfriend,” I say in return.

  “Oh, my god. I feel like such an idiot. Why did you let me say all that?” She groans.

  “Because, I guess I am your boyfriend,” I say lifting the shoulder she’s not leaning on.

  “I am? I mean, you are?”

  “Why not? We get along, we have great chemistry in the bedroom, and you brought me home to meet them. So, I gather from all that, that I’m your boyfriend. But if you want to retract all of it-”

  “No, no, no, no. I am okay with this…really, I am. You’re my boyfriend,” she says almost as if to herself.

  “And you’re my girlfriend.”

  COMING UP NEXT

  Continue reading for the 5th story in this series

  Don’t let a past relationship define your future relationships.

  COPYRIGHT © 2019– TARRAH ANDERS

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the email address below.

  Tarrah Anders | Tarrah Anders, LLC Tarrah.anders@gmail.com |www.tarrahanders.com

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Book Formatting: Tarrah Anders, LLC

  Cover: Jess Bryant Designs

  Ordering Information: Your Neighborhood Vixen

  ISBN: 9780463259337 | 9798619646450

  Chapter Fifty

  “Motherfucker!” My hand flies up and throbs as I whip my body around in search of the first aid kit. “Fuck! I’ll never get used to this feeling.” I growl to myself while digging into the kit with one hand.

  I find the burn ointment and slather on enough salve to cool the feeling of my skin burning off. With my bottom lip pierced by my teeth, my breath releases and I hold my hand by the wrist over my heart while leaning back against the wall.

  The door separating the bar from the kitchen swings open. Noah’s body emerges with a worried look as he scans the kitchen space searching, likely for me.

  “What the fuck happened?” he asks noticing my posture and the grimace on my face.

  “Burned my fingers, all good now.” I hold up my hand with my jaw clenching slightly.

  “So, you didn’t cut anything off?”

  “No, sir,” I shake my head, cringing at the throbbing of my digits.

  “Phew. It would pretty much suck to find a finger in someone’s burger,” Noah steps into the kitchen and grabs the first aid kit on the counter where I abandoned it.

  “Need me to help you bandage that up?” he asks.

  “I’m going to let it sit for a minute or two, fresh air and shit,” I look around the space for my number two. “You seen Ferny?” I ask.

  “Yeah, he’s on the floor bussing tables since Wyatt called out today. What do you need, man?”

  “How packed is the front house?” I ask.

  “It’s half and half,” he says meaning it’s half foodies and half drinkers.

  “Alright, I’m good. I just need a few minutes and then I’ll be back in the game.” I blow out a breath and lean my head back against the wall with my eyes pinched.

  “Ah, Ferny. Can you man the grill for a little bit? Our captain here burnt his fingers and needs a break,” Noah asks.

  Ferny’s eyes go wide. “Shit!” he shakes his head, “I mean, crap. You alright Perce?” Ferny rushes to my side. He’s a good kid, he’s just eighteen, and while pub life isn’t in his future, culinary is, and I’m doing what I can to teach him what I learned from working in a few five-star restaurants in the city before he goes off into the world outside of the small town of Mercy.

  “Yeah, kid. I’m good. I just need to take a break, you remember the order of the sun-dried burger?” I ask.

  Ferny stands straight and nods his head eagerly.

  I step forward and offer him a smile while patting his back. “I’ll be in the break room,” I walk past him and grit my teeth as my hand throbs from the movement.

  “Fern. If you need anything while he’s back there, I’m on the other side of this wall,” Noah offers.

  After a few minutes of sitting in the back, my pocket begins to vibrate. I maneuver to get my phone with the opposite hand and cradle it to my head.

  “Yeah?” I say gruffly.

  “Percy Wilkins?” a feminine voice asks.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Yes. This is Bev James, I’m Noah’s cousin. He told me that you guys were looking for a new meat vendor and I should speak with you. I partner with all the best farms in the state and would love to meet with you to discuss a partnership together.”

  I look up at the ceiling and take a deep breath before I stand up to look at the schedule mounted to the bulletin board.

  “I’ve got a two-hour prepping window tomorrow morning.”

  “What time does the grill open?”

  “The bar itself or the kitchen?” I ask.

  “I’m sorry, your grill. So, that would mean the kitchen.”

  “The kitchen opens at eleven. I’ll be here around nine to get ready for the day, the bar opens at nine as well.”

  “Alright, I’ll meet you there. How do you take your coffee?” she asks randomly.

  “Black. Why?”

  “Just trying to gauge what kind of man I’ll be meeting in the morning,” she says flippantly.

  “Cool, I’ll see you then.” I reply.

  “I look forward to it,” she replies before hanging up.

  After a few more minutes of sitting in the break room while staring at my hand, I move and return to the kitchen.

  Ferny is at ease on the grill, counting to himself before flipping the burgers in front of him. He moves robotically, but quickly with two tickets in front of him. I watch him finish up dressing the burgers and plating them before I wash my hands carefully then grab the first aid kit.

  “Hey, kid. Ring the bell and come help me right quick.”

  He helps me wrap up each of my fingers and I get back to work.

  By the end of the night, I’m wiped and ready to throw myself on my bed. Only instead, I have Dr. Luke sitting on my porch waiting for me.

  “What are you doing here, Doc?” I ask with one foot up on the stairs that lead to the porch.

  “Hey Perce. I heard you had a mishap at work, care if I check it out?” he asks.

  “It’s two in the morning, don’t you have a woman and child at home?” I take the remaining steps, open my screen door and fit the key into the lock.

  “I do, and that child is screaming bloody murder because her back molars are coming in and I needed a quiet setting for a minute,” he explains.

  “Ah, you ran.” I chuckle motioning for him to enter my small home.

  “I didn’t run, I’m tending to a medical situation for a figure in our community.”

  “Ha! A figure? You must have me mistaken, Luke,” I say during quakes of laughter.

  “You feed this town, without your food, half of this town would be eating crap, instead you assure that we all eat the best of the best. Not just any boring ass food either.”

  “Well, thanks, man.” I say lowering my body down to the couch.

  “So, let’s see what we’re working with here.”

  “Burnt fingers, it’s nothing new in my line of work, happens all the time.”

  “Well, do you
use any protectant gear in the kitchen?”

  “I have a first aid kit, oven mitts and shit. I just rested my hand on the surface, I think I was mistaking it for the countertop.”

  “Distracted?” Luke asks.

  “Nah, it just happened. So, listen, I gotta be up in six hours and at the bar for a meeting,”

  “Right, sorry,” Luke does what he can and gives me some extra strength medical burn ointment from his doctor’s bag, then he’s on his way and I’m crawling into bed just to do it all over again tomorrow.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Despite the bandage on my hand, with expert precision, I dice the tomatoes to be the perfect size for my burgers. Thin enough to get a taste, not too thick to take over the experience. I’m covering the plate with wrap when my phone on the counter chimes.

  She’s early. I take a deep breath and get ready to taste some meat then get rid of this woman, so I can get on with my day.

  Since this woman is related to Noah, I couldn’t very well say no, since she’s family, but I really wanted to. Noah asked me to revamp the menu for the bar. And that entailed, getting better products. The only vendor that I haven’t been able to secure is a meat vendor. Meat is important, and I want it to be the best. So, I haven’t been as quick to line that up yet. The meat that we have been serving to this point is decent, it’s edible. But my palate is rich and I’m sure I’m the only one around here who notices the slight bland tastes. I want meat that is melt in your mouth, and picks up flavors like that’s its job.

  I unlock the front door to the bar and a curtain of bright light filters through the doorway lighting up the otherwise dimness of the bar.

  “I know you said nine, but I took a chance that you would be here earlier. I don’t want to impede too much on your prep time.”

  “Thanks, appreciate that,” I step aside, and she enters the bar, taking my breath away.

  Voluptuous curves. Crimson lips. Periwinkle eyes, and long shiny chestnut hair falling just above her breasts over her shoulders.

  I blink and clear any improper thoughts from my mind.

  I ain’t got no time for that, and I sure as hell don’t need a woman in my life.

  Not going through that shit again.

  No way.

  No how.

  “I’m Beverly, you must be Mr. Wilkins?”

  “Please call me, Percy,” I hold my hand out as she places her soft small hand in mind.

  “Well, I brought a few samples,” she says holding out a bag that I didn’t notice until now.

  I grab the bag and sling it over my shoulder as I walk toward the kitchen with her following. Upon entering, I turn around to watch her as she looks around the kitchen with a smile.

  “Nice place you got here,” she says.

  “Thanks, but the bar is Noah’s,” I say.

  “Oh, I know, but this, this area is all yours,” she waves her hands out. “Noah wouldn’t know a damned thing about operating anything in here.”

  “Anyways, what’s this meat that you brought me?” I pull out packages of meat and whistle at the size and color of them. They look fresh, smell delicious and are huge.

  “Noah told me that you do a little more than just burgers and fries. So, I brought some pork as well. I’m not sure what’s on your menu, but I wanted to make sure that you were aware that I could provide you with the best meat that this county has to offer. And not just one kind of meat, but a smorgasbord of the finest and leanest fresh meat you’ll ever come across.”

  She goes into detail with the farmers that her company associates with as I cook up a piece of the pork and a small portion of the sirloin she brought.

  I cut into the meat, fork it and take a bite.

  I taste a hint of vinegar with the beef as I chew the soft meat. It’s good quality, I won’t lie. Next, I cut a small piece of the pork belly and find that the taste is smokey as the texture is just the perfect amount of chewy.

  “Nice meats,” I say wiping my mouth.

  “These two are from a farm just outside of Mercy, the Hilligan Family Farm.”

  “It’s good,” I reply.

  She takes a small bite out of the pork herself, moans while chewing and just the pleased look on her beautiful face and the sound coming from her throat, turns me on.

  “Since Noah is family, I can work out wholesale pricing and something out with Noah on the back-end,” she explains.

  “Whatever works. I like the meat, if we can work out a trial run, I think that would be best. I’m not going to make any decisions without the bossman present,” I say.

  “What do you need me for?” Noah says walking into the kitchen, “Oh, hey Bev. I didn’t know today was the day you were coming down? I would have made it a point to be here.”

  “Oh, no worries. I was early, and Percy here was kind enough to agree to a trial run for now.”

  “Wise decision, that’s what I would have suggested,” Noah nods. “If we like the selections, then we can work out a contract that benefits everyone,” Noah claps his hands in front of him while looking between Bev and myself.

  “Good. I hope that we can work together, it’s been a while, and I would love to be a part of the Neighborhood family. In one way or another. It would make you a member of the Neighborhood family by default.”

  “If you two don’t mind, I should get back to prepping for the lunch rush,” the longer that Bev stays, the more I start to want her to stay, and that’s not where my mind should be right now.

  Noah leads her out of the kitchen and I’m left to my devices. I get ready and start to warm up my pristine grills just before the first lunch order comes in. Before I know it, I’m lost to the sounds of sizzles and the aromas of spices.

  “Do you do anything other than work, Percy?” Deb asks from the end of the bar. She has a pile of books in front of her and a pen in her hand, a common sight to see at the end of her shifts.

  “I don’t need to do anything other than work, that’s all I need,” I reply.

  “All people need something other than work to take up their time. I never see anyone come in and visit you, is there a Mrs. Percy?” she asks setting down her pen.

  “No,” I simply respond.

  “Hmmmm,” she hums to herself.

  “Get any match-making thoughts out of that head, there doesn’t need to be any Mrs. Wilkins.” I shake my head and begin to head back into the kitchen.

  “Oh, Perce, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply anything. I was just curious, that’s all.”

  “No harm, no foul,” I say under my breath.

  She salutes with a smile and resumes looking at her books.

  No woman needs to be taking up my time. All I need is work and nothing else. But I cannot get her off of my mind.

  Bev. Bev. Bev.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  It’s been a week since we started using the new meat that Bev’s family’s business brings to the bar and so far guests are noticing the difference and commenting on it to staff around the bar. The quality of meat is impressive and when doing a taste comparison, you can taste the difference. When Noah signed the contract with Bev’s company, he also got an invite for a three-day culinary expo that I’m currently on my way to. Despite my hesitance to go, I agreed. Then, Noah threw it in that I was to pick up his cousin along the way.

  Driving to her home by the directions that Noah gave me just outside of Mercy, I was a bucket full of nerves. I would be in a car with her, the woman who while I have fought it, my mind cannot deviate from. Hell, we’re spending several days together. During the drive to the city, she has been eager to keep me talking by chattering as soon as her ass hit the seat. It’s cute, definitely not something that I’m used to, but I managed to keep my eyes on the road and despite my wanting to open up, I answered as much as I thought was necessary to not make her feel too uncomfortable for being in a car with a stranger, despite meeting and doing business together.

  “So, have you been working with Noah long? I don
’t think I’ve seen you at the bar before,” she pries.

  “I work in the kitchen, I don’t venture much onto the floor,” I reply politely.

  “So, how long have you been working there?” she asks again.

  “A couple of years,” I say gruffly while shrugging.

  She makes some ‘ah-ha’ noise that has me looking in her direction and staring at her profile, noticing the straightness of the curve of her nose that does a slight uptake at the end, a little like Nicole Kidman’s nose, it’s cute. When she turns her head she catches me watching her, she smiles widely and I face forward again quickly. She’s beautiful, any fool would be blind to not see that, but I’m in no state of mind to get mixed up with a woman, no matter how attractive she is, how my dick perks up at the thought of her, and how I get goosebumps whenever she’s near.

  “Noah says that you’re a great chef, why aren’t you working in Hollybrooke where you could work at some fancy restaurant or something?”

  “Been there, done that,” I reply quietly, not divulging more.

  Her hand trails up my forearm to my shoulder, I take my eyes off the road to watch her fingers on my skin.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “I’ve been thinking about you, since we met,” she says in a low sultry tone.

  “You have?” I turn my head to her in shock.

  “You seem like a good guy.”

  What the hell is she saying? She barely knows me. Sure, I’m a good guy, but she can’t very well gather that shit from the few times we’ve spoken on the phone or in person.

  “I don’t mix business and pleasure,” I say.

  “Maybe we can just have a little fun?” she trails her finger down my forearm to trace my knuckles that are tight against the steering wheel.

  “What’s your definition of fun?” I swallow and ask.

  “Oh, you know, maybe a little risky business,” she licks her lips as my cock stiffens.