Dear Naked Neighbour (The Dinner Club Book 1)

by Tara Brown

  “Well, your new blinds will make a big difference.”

  “Yeah, they will. When they’re installed you should come see them.” She said it flatly, like this was a normal thing to say. Like we were friends or I might have a reason to come to her house.

  “Of course.” I pushed my glasses up.

  She got up. “I have to head into work, but I’ll text you.”

  “Okay.” I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I wanted her to, but I also wasn’t sure why she would text me, or why we would continue to see each other.

  I assumed she wanted a friend.

  I didn’t know what else it could be.

  There was no way she was into me, and besides, she hadn’t led me to believe she might be.

  I could be friends with her. I could crush silently inside while being friends with her.

  Chapter Six

  Dinner Club

  “Can you see anything, Seventeen?” Phil muttered roughly into the mic.

  “No,” I answered, staring at Dubhe’s girlfriend’s house. “He’s still inside. He’s been here all day, drinking and watching TV.”

  “Me either,” Matt spoke softly. “We’ve been sitting on him for hours here. He’s done for the night. It’s seven. He’s gotta be drunk by now.”

  “Okay, well we’re going to the casino tomorrow then. He isn’t doing anything out of the ordinary. Since we started watching Carter’s house he hasn’t been back. Dubhe hasn’t said shit in his car. Bugging it has been a waste. The team is looking for more. They want their link between Carter and Dubhe, especially since Carter’s gone MIA. Everyone back for dinner.”

  “Ten four.” I started the car I was in and drove around the block to pick up Matt. As he climbed in, my phone vibrated. I reached for it, but he moved faster and snatched it up from the console. “Holy shit!” He flashed the screen at me. “Is this from a girl?”

  “Yeah, just a friend.” I tried to cover. Callie was still naked neighbour girl to him. I hadn’t told him her name. Or that she had texted me almost every hour since we had breakfast. She didn’t flirt or ask me out again, but chatted. Well, she chatted and grilled me more. It had been two days of texting her, FaceTiming, and talking on the phone while she did things like paint her toenails. And I did things like try not to sigh when I stared at her.

  “A friend? What friend? You don’t have friends,” he asked dubiously. “Is there a chance this is that friend who happened to be naked in front of us all and showed up at your house?”

  “Just a friend.” I grabbed my phone and stuffed it in my pocket. He didn’t bring it up again after my warning tone.

  When we got to Ashley’s house, the nicest out of all our houses, I parked and grabbed the cooler of food I’d brought. Matt had his cooler too.

  Thursday nights—every Thursday night—we had team dinner. It had rules, extreme rules. Ashley was a gourmet cook. His family was Italian and very intense. Every Thursday night we each made one dish in a themed meal, putting our foot in it. There was no slacking off, no prepackaged foods. It was handmade and flavourful. We paired with wine. And then we ate until we nearly died from a stroke. It was always the best night of the week.

  Probably because of all the rules.

  No work talk.

  No girls or girl talk.

  No getting drunk.

  The food and drink complemented each other and had to be handmade.

  And no matter what, no drama.

  Dinner club Thursdays had become such a thing that I changed my guild run nights to Wednesdays for them.

  We had done them in Toronto for years before our unit got sent to BC. And we’d been working as a unit for five years, all of which had Thursday night dinner club.

  The theme changed every week. This week was Mexican. I brought chilli lime and chicken street tacos. I’d made a chipotle slaw to go on them and marinated the chicken thighs, which I was going to batter and fry and then slice very thin. I had already put together the jalapeño, lime, and parsley aioli to drizzle on top, along with chopped cilantro and roughly diced tomatoes.

  I got the recipe from the show You Gotta Eat Here. I loved that show.

  When we were all inside Ashley posted the menu.

  It looked amazing.

  Spicy beans by Ashley.

  Jerk chicken nachos by Phil with a hand-crushed guacamole.

  Chilli lime tacos by me.

  Corn and shrimp ceviche by Mike.

  And Matt was making deep fried ice cream for dessert with banana empanadas.

  In the kitchen, Phil handed me a weird little bottle of beer. I glanced at it, skeptical. “Bohemia?”

  “It’s a lager, loads of aroma and a subtle bitterness. Pairs well with spicy foods, as do lighter beers. But it isn’t watery or boring. It’s what we’re doing for the drinks.” He gave me an annoyed frown. “Just drink it, Nancy.”

  Everyone mocked me for not loving beer.

  I lifted it to my lips and tilted it back, surprised by the flavour. “It’s good.” I smacked my lips.

  “Okay, I’ve set up stations.” Ashley, our kitchen control freak, waved his hand over to the counters. “Everyone start. My beans are boiling. They don’t need anything else. Just time. So let’s get this going.”

  We all nodded and got to work.

  It took about forty minutes to prepare all the food. We moved in perfect sync, so used to each other in a kitchen. Ashley used to have a larger house with an even better kitchen, but his ex-wife got that in the divorce. This kitchen wasn’t as nice, but it was better than what I had. Sometimes I missed his old kitchen; I knew he did.

  He didn’t like talking about his divorce. Or his ex. Or dating. Or women. He was almost as bad as Phil.

  I plated my tacos and carried them to the table, ready to eat. My stomach rumbled and I started to feel my beer.

  We all took a second to describe what we’d made before we served it up.

  The table was colourful and smelled like heaven.

  When Callie had made that joke about me eating from boxes, I didn’t tell her I could cook. By the look of me, and my house, you would never know I was actually an amazing cook. I was a boxed-food-eating mess when I left home, but a year in the force taught me to cook. Living alone in an isolated post taught you to do that. Or you starved. So I watched the Food Network and taught myself how. By luck, Ashley and Matt were both foodies, so when we got onto the unit together, we clicked instantly. We made Mike a foodie and Phil needed to learn when his wife died.

  “So, as this is our one-year anniversary here in Vancouver, or as Matt likes to call it, Raincouver, I want to toast us. Good work, boys. You all are exactly the sort of members I imagined working with when I started in Special O six years ago. Thanks for not sucking.” Phil raised his beer. His speeches and toasts were always awkward and uncomfortable.

  We clanked. “Cheers!”

  I put my beer down and went right for the plate, taking my first bite of taco and nodding. I closed my eyes and let the flavours burst in my mouth. “Mmmhmmm.”

  “Oh shit, Simon, this is good,” Matt moaned into his taco. “I’m not normally a taco guy, but dude. Well done.”

  “Yeah, you’re all about the hot dogs.” Mike winked at him.

  “You know it, brother.” Matt took a sip of beer. “And speaking of awkward sex conversations, was anyone else aware Simon is chatting with a girl? Possibly a girl we all know? I don’t know. I hate to assume.”

  I swallowed my bite like it was a lump in my throat. “Uhhh, Matt.” I scowled. “Friend—remember that part? It’s just a friend.”

  “Yeah, no.” He waved me off. “You’re chatting up a girl. We need to discuss it as a family. Dad?” He glanced at Phil.

  “Who is it?” Phil eyed me.

  “We have rules about talking about girls, if I’m not mistaken.” I pointed out.

  “If anyone of these horn dogs brought up an addition to their sex lives, I would agree. But you?” He tilted his head. “Spill.”


  “Just a girl I met. She’s nice.” I panicked. “She’s a friend. Nothing else.” I didn’t add the part about her being out of my league.

  “Her name’s Callie,” Matt mocked.

  “Callie?” Mike’s eyes narrowed. “Where’d you meet her?” He lost the humour in his face.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” I lowered my gaze to the plate. “The rules. No girls. No drama.”

  “Yeah, except—” Mike’s jaw set. “The naked neighbour’s name is Callie. Is that a coincidence?”

  My insides tightened as I shook my head. “Nope.” I glared at Matt, ready to murder him.

  “Holy fuck, the naked girl?” Ashley almost choked on his food. “The naked lotion girl? She is chatting you up? What the hell?”

  I put my taco down. “Guys.”

  “No way, Simon.” Phil’s eyes gleamed with something resembling humour. “We need to hear how the hell this started.” His gaze darted to Mike.

  “I messaged her, as a concerned citizen, about her blinds. I thought it was the gentlemanly thing to do.” I wanted to kill Matt. “No biggie. She messaged back.”

  “You got her number?” Mike blinked, staring me down.

  “No, of course not. Not until she gave it to me.” My cheeks blazed but I gave up nothing else.

  “Dude, how the fuck did a girl like that give her number to you?” Mike sounded annoyed.

  “’Cause he’s hot,” Matt boasted. “Is this killing you, Mike?” He snickered.

  “No! What? Like I give a shit about how he loses his V-card.” Mike snorted.

  “I care.” Ashley leaned forward. “How did you get the number?”

  “She sent it to me in a reply email,” I muttered, scared we were going to go into full detail here. I was ready to strangle Matt, but the bastard would like it.

  “You message her about the blinds and she gives you her number, instead of calling you a perve for gawking in the window in the first place?” Mike sounded doubtful.

  “No.” I bit my lip, giving Phil and Matt a pleading look.

  “Dinner first, gossip after. Let’s enjoy it while it’s hot.” Phil’s command was the final say.

  I didn’t really taste the food after that. Everyone kept coming back, staring at me. The conversation didn’t really flow and the food didn’t satisfy me.

  Finally, I broke, “She showed up at my house, screaming at me. She’s smart. She traced my IP from the email, even through my multiple routers. She was pissed that I had sent it. She said I was a pervert and started calling the cops. When she saw my holster on the table she knew I was a cop. I explained I was in the neighbourhood for a complaint and happened to see in the window. I thought she should know. It was the nice thing to do so the real perverts would stop looking in her windows.” I exhaled sharply, glaring at Mike. “Not that it’s your business.” I darted my gaze from him to Matt. “But she’s funny and nerdy and cool and we hit it off.”

  Phil’s lips spread into a wide grin. “Atta boy. Knew you had it in you.”

  “See!” Matt slapped me on the back. “I told you she was into you. No girl tells you next time you’re peeping in the windows to come for dinner unless she digs you.”

  “Exactly what do you know about girls?” I snarled at him.

  “More than you, trust me.” He laughed.

  “That smoking-hot chick gave you her number?” Mike would never get past this. “Bullshit. I wanna see you two together.”

  “What?” I started to realize how much I actually said that word. “No!” I laughed at him. “You’re making this weird.”

  “You’re lying.” He said it boldly.

  “I don’t lie, Mike.” I leaned forward. “Ever.” Cop Simon was starting to show up.

  “And this is why we don’t talk about girls.” Ashley cocked an eyebrow.

  “Exactly.” I pointed at Ash. “Thank you.”

  “Pictures or it didn’t happen.” Mike sat back, folding his arms.

  “Never.” I scoffed. “I don’t film every girl I’m with so I can watch it later and feel better about myself.”

  Mike’s jaw dropped. I didn’t always have a comeback, but when I did . . .

  “Nice one.” Matt reached his knuckles across the table. “Why don’t we all meet for drinks at the Shark Club in Van tomorrow night, and Simon can ask Callie to meet him there. We can observe from the other side of the bar, and they can go on a real date,” Matt chimed in, saying it all too chipper. He was up to something.

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  Mike and I answered together.

  Phil shook his head. “Count me out. I don’t club.” He glanced at Ashley. “These beans are amazing.”

  “Thanks,” Ashley said through his teeth.

  “You are the biggest pussy in the world. Just so you know,” Mike taunted me.

  “Fine,” I mumbled. “I’ll see if she wants to meet for a drink. You will not speak to either of us. Then we never discuss this again.”

  “Deal.” Mike lifted his beer and tilted it towards me.

  Matt grinned with something resembling an evil gleam in his eyes.

  I suspected the fact Mike knew Callie’s name meant he also had looked her up and come up with a plan to try to meet up with her “accidentally,” but I’d ruined it by messaging her about the nudity.

  I also suspected Matt wanted to gloat by the hearty eat-shit expression on his face when I proved to Mike that Callie and I were friends.

  I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, Matt was desperate to see Mike suffer through that.

  Their love-hate relationship was beyond odd.

  Chapter Seven

  Getting lucky

  Her excited response, a very exclamation-marked yes, to having drinks scared me.

  I was skipping guild night for a girl.

  This had never happened to me before. Fridays were the best dungeon run, mostly because nerdy guys had nothing better to do than play video games on Friday nights. And I belonged to a dedicated guild. We consisted of me, four scientists, two engineers, three analysts, a couple of teachers, and a lot of computer sciences students.

  I was the only one with a badass job, but I couldn’t tell anyone what I did. So I said I worked in IT. It was partially true; in my head IT stood for intelligence. I’d gotten my electrical engineering degree before I joined the force. And now eleven years in on the force, I almost never used it.

  Instead, I was more of a spy. A spy who understood how the electronic components of the surveillance equipment we used worked. It was honestly how I got the Special O job as my second posting. Normally, the posts were held for far more senior members.

  Not that it mattered, especially on a day like today where I roamed a casino disguised as me, a geek. Mike and Ashley were in the high rollers room, playing poker and placing bugs under the tables and chairs.

  Phil was in the parking lot to check range.

  And Matt and I had bugged the bathrooms and hallways on the way to the poker room.

  Since I was done, I pulled another slot machine handle and waited for everyone else to finish. The machine started to ring, filling the air around me with bells. I winced, hoping no one would notice me and the flashing lights.

  Matt ran over. “You got lucky!” He nudged me. “You’re gonna get lucky twice today.”

  He laughed but I paused.

  “Don’t give me that look.” He shook his head. “You know she’s gonna want you to come back to her place so Mike can watch in the windows while you make sweet love to her.”

  I gulped, and probably paled.

  “Dude. It’s fine. Mike can tape it for you so you can go over the areas you need to work on.” Matt winked.

  “Oh my God.” I grimaced.

  “You’re fine. I was kidding. He probably won’t record it.” He laughed and then nudged me again. “But you know the basics, right? Like where the penis goes?” He winced dramatically. “I’m probably not the right guy to be explaini
ng it, but I do know one spot she won’t thank you for. That’s reserved for holidays, birthdays, and when she’s too drunk to realize she’s said yes. If she gives that up on the first date, run. She’s a ho and you probably now have some kind of herp-syph-gono-hep situation. Maybe bring condoms just in case.”

  “I don’t even know what that means, but I’m not a virgin. I’ve just never been with someone like—”

  “No one has, that’s a unicorn. And actually, according to the crazy-hot scale, if she isn’t a unicorn she’s probably insane. There’s no way she’s that hot and not a headcase. So get some and then run away.”

  “Stop trying to make me feel better.” I grabbed the ticket as it printed out a voucher for me to change.

  “Bro, you won ten grand.” He lifted my hand and read the voucher carefully.

  “Oh shit.” I stared at it. “Weird.” I didn’t know what that meant, considering I was at work, but hoped it meant I could keep it.

  We’re done in the poker room. Mike texted the group chat.

  “Guess we’re done.” I shrugged like I wasn’t totally panicking in my head and strolled over to cash out, casually.

  “Congratulations!” The lady at the cage smiled wide. “Do you want it in chips?”

  “Cash please,” I muttered.

  “Okay. Cash or cheque?” She pulled out a piece of paper for me to sign.

  “Cheque please,” I said with doubt in my voice as I glanced at Matt. He rolled his eyes.

  “He’ll take a thousand up front and the rest in a cheque.” He shook his head. “You are so clueless.”

  “Shut up.” I wrinkled my nose and collected my money while the others left.

  When I finally got back to my place after depositing the money into my bank account, I sat on the couch and contemplated the date. It felt like a bad idea. Meeting her there with Mike and Matt was risky.

  It felt devious, like I was showing off or something. Something I didn’t technically do either.

  But then she texted that she was excited to see me later and just heading over to a friend’s to get ready since there was no point in coming all the way back to Langley.