Forty and Free: A Sweet Romance Series Bundle - Books 1 - 4

by Blake, Lillianna

  One of her earliest boyfriends had had a similar attitude. She’d begun dating him not long after her parents had died. She thought he could help her to heal—that he’d help her to see that there were still things in life to look forward to. Instead, all the passion that had attracted her to him had turned out to be his need to control and possess her.

  He had isolated her from her friends and family at a time when she’d needed their support the most. It had been her introduction to love, and it had left scars that had taken her years to heal from.

  Since then, she’d learned to choose her partners carefully. Though she’d never married, she’d had many wonderful relationships. She’d learned to focus on whether she and a partner had a true connection, instead of attraction only.

  Sometimes it was perfect, sometimes less so, but either way the relationships tended to end within a year. That was about the time when each of those boyfriends had become restless and started mentioning marriage.

  It wasn’t that Jillian didn’t want to get married; she simply hadn’t met someone that she could imagine spending the rest of her life with. Maybe that was for the best.

  In her work as a life coach, she’d seen many marriages fall apart. In fact, she was currently coaching a woman who’d gone through such a traumatic divorce that she’d all but given up on love. It was a difficult case for Jillian as on one hand, she wanted to encourage the woman to have hope, and on the other she wondered if she might just be right about love.

  She followed a path that she’d walked many times. The lake was surrounded by sprigs of wildflowers and different types of trees. To her, it felt like walking into another world—a place far from the rush of society.

  With the subtle sparkle of the stars above her, she could almost ignore the music that still blasted from Mateo’s house. She paused beside a large tree and leaned against the bark. As she stared out across the still water, she felt it again—a nagging ache, as if she was drawn to something without knowing what it was.

  Though she could count on one hand the things that she didn’t like about life, that ache remained. It was strong enough that she knew it wouldn’t disappear any time soon.

  She walked back to her house with her shoulders rounded. If she could only get in some meditation, she might be able to figure out what the source of her angst was.

  Unfortunately, the music was still loud when she reached her door. Mateo was nowhere to be seen, but she knew that he was there somewhere. She decided that instead of fighting to meditate, she’d just turn in early.

  By the next morning all would be quiet. She was sure of it.

  The next morning Jillian awoke determined to have a good day. She set her intentions, did a few deep cleansing breaths, and then took a warm shower.

  When she emerged from the shower, she felt like a new person and was sure all of the stress of the day before would be gone. It was quiet—no music, no hammering.

  She decided to take advantage of the quiet and fit in some meditation. She skipped the white gown and settled on to the windowsill. As she closed her eyes, the music began. Not as angry as the day before, but still quite distracting.

  She decided to break one of her rules and use earplugs along with a sounds-of-the-sea mix. As the waves rushed over her senses, she began to settle into a calmer state.

  About that time, the drill began to scream. She could hear it clearly, despite having the Atlantic Ocean blasting in her ears. She set her jaw, deciding that she needed a new approach. He couldn’t possibly know that she was trying to meditate, so how could she blame him for interrupting her? Neighbors had to learn to work together.

  She headed off to town to pick up a few things.

  When she returned, the music was still going. She dropped off a few things in her house, then grabbed the bottle of wine that she’d purchased, along with two wineglasses.

  As she crossed the distance between the two houses, she reminded herself to be open and courteous. There was no need to attack. Surely once Mateo understood that she needed just a little quiet time, he’d be happy to accommodate her.

  She paused in front of the door and knocked twice. A friendly smile rose to her lips as he opened the door.

  He stared at her for a moment.

  It crossed her mind that he might close the door in her face. Instead he stepped through it.

  “Yes?”

  “I wanted to welcome you properly.” She held up the bottle of wine. “I hope that you like red.”

  He looked from her to the bottle of wine and then away again.

  “Okay. Thank you.” He reached for the wine.

  Jillian moved around him and stepped into the house.

  “Hey, wait a minute, this isn’t a good time.”

  She noticed that the majority of his things were still packed in boxes. What should have been the living room hadn’t been arranged yet. The furniture was pushed up against the wall and boxes were taking up the rest of the room. On one wall, a large photograph frame leaned up against it. It had two brass letters intertwined at the top—K and M—but the place where photographs should have been were just empty glass.

  She turned back to Mateo and held up one of the wineglasses. “I thought maybe we could talk for a minute.”

  He reached over and turned off the music. When he looked back at her, his brow was furrowed with displeasure. “I didn’t invite you in.”

  “Oh?” She blinked. “How rude of me. I just assumed. It will only take a minute.”

  “I don’t want any wine.”

  “Okay, that’s fine.” She smiled.

  He watched her from a distance.

  She felt a little uneasy as he moved away from her. Maybe it had been too bold of her to step inside, but she didn’t want to give him the opportunity to shut her out before she’d had the chance to say what she wanted to say.

  “I’m not sure if you’re aware of just how easily sound travels around here—with the open space and the water. I know that you have a lot on your plate, and I certainly don’t want to interfere with that. I was hoping that you might be able to give me an idea of your schedule, so that I could work my own around yours.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “So this is wine with an ulterior motive?”

  “Not exactly. I know that moving can be hard—and frustrating. I thought you might want to relax—take a little break.”

  “My music is bothering you? The drill?” He continued to watch her with no expression to indicate how he might be feeling.

  “It’s not that it bothers me, really—it’s just that I practice meditation and that requires a certain level of quiet. Honestly, I have no problem working around your schedule—if you could give me some idea of when a good quiet time might be for you?” She smiled as bright as she could.

  Chapter 6

  Mateo was just in the process of carrying some boxes up the stairs when there was a knock on the door. He wanted to ignore it. He wanted more than anything just to be left alone, but when he saw her face—Jillian, she’d said her name was—through the window beside the door, he guessed that she wasn’t going to give up easily. He gritted his teeth and opened the door.

  The moment he looked into her eyes the anger built. He didn’t want to open the door all the way, but she managed to slip past him. Here she was again to disrupt him with her optimistic smile and perky nature. It made him think that she might just be living on a different planet.

  “I don’t have a schedule.” He gripped the neck of the bottle of wine tighter. “I work when I work.”

  “Don’t you think you could give me some idea of when you might take a break? Say for lunch?”

  “I sleep at night.” He cocked his eyebrow. “Sometimes.”

  “Good point.” She smiled again. He did his best not to point out that she smiled way too much. “But meditation isn’t really effective if you sleep through it.”

  “Is it ever?” He leaned back against the wall. “Isn’t it just a bunch of mumbo jumbo and wasted time?�
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  She froze. He watched the tension course through her body. It was clear that he’d hit a sore spot.

  “Meditation has helped me get through some very difficult times in my life. Of course, everyone is entitled to their opinion.” She met his eyes.

  He saw a shadow in her expression as her smile faded just a little, and the light in her eyes dimmed.

  “Difficult times? Like what? A shortage of yoga pants?” He smirked. In the back of his mind he was aware that he was being unnecessarily cruel. But he didn’t care. He wanted her to be angry. He wanted her to get the point that he needed to be left alone.

  “I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “This was a mistake.”

  “Yes, it was.” He opened the door for her. “Want your wine back?” He held it out to her.

  “No, I have a feeling you could use it.” She met his eyes again, but only briefly. “If you could try to keep the noise down, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Sorry, I don’t plan to. The music—it drowns out the annoyance I feel from having a nosy neighbor watching me all the time.” He narrowed his eyes. “But don’t worry. I only plan to be here for a few months, then you can meditate your yoga pants off.”

  She stared at him for a long moment.

  He braced himself. He was sure she was going to threaten to call the police or maybe rain down wicked karma on him. Instead, she only nodded and stepped out through the door.

  He held tight to the wine bottle as he closed the door behind her. His body weight pushed it the rest of the way closed as he leaned back against it. An ache carried through his chest. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was regret. He didn’t really care what it was. All that mattered was that she was gone.

  He stared across the living room at the empty photograph frame. He never should have brought it, but it had cost him two hundred dollars to have it custom made. That might not have been a lot to most people, but to him at the time, it was.

  He’d bought it because she’d wanted it. He bought it because she was proud of their relationship and wanted it displayed for everyone to see. As far as he knew, Kate had already burned the photographs that used to be in it.

  The harder he stared at it, the more intense the anger within him grew. She’d promised him forever, and now he was alone. She’d wanted more than what he could offer, despite the dream home he bought for them and the double shifts he’d worked to be able to afford it. He wasn’t enough. He would never be enough.

  He stood up from the door and walked toward the photograph frame. As he did, he saw his own reflection in the glass—flushed cheeks, tightened lips, and dark furious eyes. When had that happened? When had he become the monster that she’d claimed he was? He felt his blood rush through his body as every heartbeat pushed him more and more into an enraged state.

  Now this woman from next door was trying to tell him when he could or couldn’t work. Now she was sticking her nose into his business as if she had some right to interfere with his isolation.

  There it was again—that darkness within him. He was sure that it hadn’t always been there, but now it seemed as if he could never escape it. It boiled to the point of spilling over.

  The heat of his rage blinded him and dictated what happened next.

  When the glass shattered, his heart lurched with a sense of relief. Now the destruction he felt inside had a voice—had an image. It was slivers all over the floor of a home that was meant to be his future. It was the last whole parts of him scattered into thousands of tiny pieces.

  For just an instant he felt relief—until he recognized that he was the only one left to clean up the mess. Nothing he could do would change the fact that he was all he had, and if he didn’t clean it up, the glass would become one more reminder of what had never had the chance to be.

  Reluctantly, he grabbed a broom and dustpan from the pile of things that needed to be put away. With slow, methodical strokes, he swept the glass into the dustpan. Once more he was left to wonder if maybe Kate had been right the entire time.

  Then he found himself thinking about his neighbor, Jillian, with the perky attitude and eyes the color of a perfect sky. He couldn’t overlook the fact that if Jillian hadn’t interrupted him, none of this would have happened. He would have been finished moving the boxes, rather than sweeping up evidence of his lack of control.

  “She’s not getting under my skin again. Nobody is going to tell me what to do.”

  Chapter 7

  As Jillian started to walk away from Mateo’s front door, she heard the distinct sound of glass shattering. Her heart dropped. Had he really just thrown the bottle of wine she’d given him? Was that the type of man he was?

  She was feeling unsettled as she hurried back to her house. She actually took the time to lock her door, which was not something she typically bothered with. Her heart raced as she rushed up the stairs to her bedroom. She felt a little foolish for being so frightened, but she wasn’t accustomed to such volatile behavior.

  She closed the door to her bedroom and tried to breathe. Every time her mind began to settle, thoughts overwhelmed her. She’d made her best effort to be kind to him. She brought him a gift to try to engage him in friendly conversation. Those things should have worked in her favor. Instead, he’d practically pushed her out the door.

  The anger that flowed through her was more intense than she could recall ever experiencing. This kind of emotion was unfamiliar to her. It left her in a panic to strike out.

  Why would he respond to her in that way? She’d done nothing to him. She’d been as courteous as she could, and yet, when she’d heard that glass shatter outside his door, she knew that he was furious with her. It struck her that he might be more than just a bad neighbor. He might actually be a very dangerous man. If that was the case, then she needed to be more careful.

  She sat down on the edge of her bed and tried to calm down. After a few breaths, the music started up again. She closed her eyes. This was it. This was the moment when she was going to lose all of her peace. He had no right to treat her this way—to invade her home and disrupt her peace.

  With her emotions all over the place, she knew she needed to hear from a voice of reason. She picked up her phone and dialed the number of her own life coach, Hannah.

  Within a few rings, Hannah answered the phone.

  “Morning, Jilly. How was your vacation?”

  “Hannah, I’m in a bad situation. I need you to get me through it.”

  “What’s wrong? You sound awful.”

  “I feel awful. I feel very, very angry.”

  “Uh-oh, what happened? A bad flight?”

  “No, the vacation was fine, being back home was fine—until I met the new neighbor. He has me so wound up that I can’t even breathe.”

  “Okay, calm down. Remember no one else can make you feel a certain way, no matter what the situation is. You have control over your emotions.”

  “I don’t feel in control at all right now. I feel like I want to punch something.”

  “Wow, this neighbor of yours really did a number on you. Why do you think that is?”

  “He’s playing his music and using his tools day and night. I have no time to meditate. I can’t maintain my peace if I can’t meditate.”

  “Now, you know that’s not true. Your peace is unshakable. It is a deep and solid basis for all your actions. So what is really happening here?”

  Jillian cringed and wondered if this might be how her clients felt when she talked to them. She was sure that Hannah couldn’t possibly understand what was happening to her.

  “I don’t know, I can’t even think straight with all the noise.”

  “Are you feeling trapped by it? Forced into a corner?”

  “Yes.” Jillian sighed. “Yes, I am. I feel very trapped.”

  “But you’re not, are you?”

  “I asked him nicely to let me work around his schedule and he was downright rude to me.”

  “But he doesn’t get to decide if you meditate or not.
”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you’re not trapped. You’re not handcuffed to your house, or barred in, right?”

  “You’re right.” Her eyes widened. “You’re absolutely right. I just need to get somewhere quiet for a little while and regroup. Thank you so much, Hannah. I was about to either call the police or blast my own music in return.”

  “You know as well as I do that conflict is never solved by instigation, it’s solved by seeing past the anger and frustration to the core of the issue. You tried to be friendly and he obviously did not accept that, for whatever reason. Now you have to do what you have to do to keep your peace.”

  “At least for today this will work. Maybe I can figure out a longer-term solution once I have the freedom to think clearly. I’m going to head out. Thanks, Hannah.”

  “Jillian, wait—I wanted to ask you about your new client. The one from the website?”

  “Yes?”

  “I know the last time we talked you expressed some frustration about the way she’s given up on love. I took some time to think about it. I wonder if your feathers might be ruffled because of an issue of your own.”

  “What issue could I have with love? I’ve been in many healthy relationships.”

  “Yes, you have, but none of them have exactly satisfied you. Am I wrong?”

  “Well, no. I prefer to think that they served their purpose for a specific time in my life.”

  “And they did. But I wonder if perhaps this woman is bringing up your own fear about believing in romance.”

  “I don’t think I have any fears about that.” Jillian tried to keep an open mind, but the subject made her just as tense as Mateo had. She didn’t want to talk about it, which was a clear sign that there was some truth to Hannah’s words.

  “It’s just something to think about. Let me know if you want to talk about it. Good luck with the neighbor.”

  “Thanks.” Jillian hung up the phone and gathered a few items to take with her. There was a local park that she often went to when she wanted a change of scenery. She was sure she wouldn’t be able to hear Mateo’s music there.