How to Not Fall for the Guy Next Door: A Sweet and Humorous Romance

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How to Not Fall for the Guy Next Door: A Sweet and Humorous Romance Page 4

by Easton, Meg


  “Oh,” Addison said.

  That explained why he seemed skittish earlier. She already didn’t think that rebound dating was a good idea for her at all. And now she definitely didn’t think it sounded like a good idea for Ian. Add in the fact that being neighbors would make everything worse, and it was obvious that dating, or any form of crushing, flirting, daydreaming about, or falling in love would be the worst idea ever.

  “Well,” she said, “I guess that settles it, so let’s make this official. My entire goal while living in Quicksand is to not fall for the guy next door.”

  5

  Ian

  The deafening sound of Ian’s portable air tank shut off, and he used his finish nailer to put the last couple of nails into this part of the built-in. He ran his hand along the section, feeling to make sure it was as smooth as it looked.

  Someone whistled behind him, and he turned to see his friend and general contractor, Garrett, walking into the room. “She’s a beaut!”

  Ian brushed a bit of sawdust off a shelf. “Wait until it’s finished.”

  Garrett stepped closer. “I feel bad that it’s always me and not you who gets to hear the praise about your craftsmanship from the homeowners.”

  “Well, you do have to take all the blame for anything that goes wrong.”

  “Every time you’re available to do the woodwork in a house I’m building, I figure it’s the universe’s way of trying to counter the complaints. I owe you one, buddy. Oh, hey, Ellie just finished reading her first book by herself last night. We made a big deal about it, and asked what she wanted to do to celebrate, and she said she wanted to get a pedicure at a real salon. So, of course, Emmie wants to as well, and because Ellie is Ellie, she said having her little sister there would make it more special.”

  “Isn’t Emmie three?”

  Garrett chuckled. “Yeah, so she’ll probably sit on the chair for a full sixty seconds before getting down. I hope the person painting hers is fast. Anyway, so Paige is taking them, which leaves me free tonight. I was thinking of getting the guys together to go axe throwing. Are you in?”

  Ian shook his head as he rooted around in his bag for his putty knife and the wood filler. “No can do. I’ve got Junior Woodworkers tonight.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Instead of hanging out with a bunch of adult men destroying a block of wood, you’ll be hanging out with a bunch of seven to nine-year-olds, destroying a block of wood.”

  Ian laughed out loud. “We’ve definitely destroyed some good wood along the way. You’d be impressed at how good they’re getting, though.”

  “You know, one of these days you might want to get a junior woodworker of your own.”

  He was surprised when it wasn’t Zoe who came to mind immediately at a comment like that, like usual—it was Addi. Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised. Addi was taking up more and more headspace all the time, and he really needed to stop thinking about her. It wasn’t like he could face that kind of pain again anytime soon, if ever. The damage that Zoe’s words inflicted when she broke off their wedding weren’t the kind of thing that just went away or got better. They made him question everything about himself. “It’s not in the cards for me, and you know it.”

  Garrett held up his hands. “All’s I’m saying is you’ve got, what, four single women living in the inn next to you now? And regardless of what Zoe said or what you tell yourself, you’re a good man, Ian.”

  “I’m not interested.” It was mostly the truth. He wasn’t interested in going through what he had with Zoe ever again, and the best way to do that was to stay away from all relationships in the future. With his elbows resting on his crouched knees, a putty knife in one hand, he let out a breath. “It looks like my wood filler isn’t here. I’ll have to run into town to get some.” He stood up, and tossed the putty knife back into his bag.

  “You mean this wood filler?” Garrett nudged the jar of it with his foot.

  Ian stared down at the container. How did that get there? And why hadn’t he seen it? But more importantly, why did it disappoint him to realize it was here?

  He shook his head as it dawned on him that he was hoping to see Addi when he was in town. Like she would just appear nearby when he thought of her, like a well-timed ad on social media just when he thought of an item. He obviously needed to step up his not-thinking-about-her efforts.

  * * *

  A lot of the kids in Junior Woodworkers were also in Cub Scouts, and since they had their pinewood derby coming up, they spent the hour in his shop working on their cars instead of building stools, like they had been. Normally, their projects were all about learning how to build furniture correctly and using the tools properly—all the things his grandpa had taught him—so this time, it was fun to see their more creative sides come out in their car designs.

  Once the last kid was picked up by the final parent to arrive, Ian blew most of the sawdust off him with the air hose, then closed up his shop and headed into his house through the kitchen door. His grandma loved to cook, and although she didn’t cook every night, she usually did on Junior Woodworkers days, knowing he’d be coming in late. And sure enough, she had beef stew in the crock pot and it smelled great. Usually, she was in the room when he came in. He kicked off his shoes and headed down the hall at the back of the kitchen toward the family room.

  As he neared the family room, he heard voices and headed closer to go say hi, but paused when he heard Addi’s voice. He was a little surprised she was in his house, based on how much she’d been avoiding him. And having her in his house wasn’t exactly the best way to move forward with his not-thinking-about-her plan.

  He took a few steps closer, trying to hear what they were talking about so he could guess if this would be a quick thing or not. If it was going to be quick, maybe he would slip back outside and clean his shop for a minute.

  As he got closer, he could make out his grandma’s words. “...told me how easy it was to move your things into the inn, because of how organized you are. I want to be like that. And, as you can tell from all of this, I’ve got a long way to go.”

  “How long have you lived here?”

  “Fifty-four years. Since I was eight months pregnant with Ian’s dad. I thought I’d have to move when my dear Sheldon passed just over a year ago, because this place is just too much for me to care for on my own. But Ian was so sweet. He barely hesitated before packing up his stuff in Salem and buying this house and moving in so I could stay. He’s such a good boy. I wish my friend Carol had such a nice grandson to buy her home so she could stay. Anyway, a year ago, I started to go through everything to get organized, and all it taught me was that it’s too big of a job to handle on my own. So when Ian told me that you help people get organized for a living and I looked you up online...”

  Their voices faded as he walked back toward the kitchen. It was sweet his grandma was saying good things about him. It wasn’t so sweet that he was standing there eavesdropping. He couldn’t tell how long they would be—his grandma might be asking for advice, and that could take a while. He should probably head back outside to his shop.

  But then he heard his grandma more clearly, so she must’ve been close to the family room’s doorway. “But this isn’t all of it—I need to show you my office and bedroom.”

  Oh no. His bedroom door was open, and he knew for a fact that he hadn’t made his bed this morning. He wasn’t sure, but he could possibly have a dirty shirt or two on his floor. His room wasn’t too messy, but not something someone like Addi would call “organized.” When they were kids, it wasn’t weird at all to have her in his room. He and his brothers shared the room he lived in now when they visited each summer, and it was where they kept the Legos. But now that they were adults and didn’t know each other as well as they once had, it felt strange just having her in his house. And it would feel even stranger to have her seeing his things. And if his grandma was showing Addi her office, she would walk right past his room.

  He couldn’t go tow
ard the family room and get to his bedroom hall that way, since that’s the direction they were. So he raced into the living room and headed into the hall from that direction. He came at it a little too fast and banged his arm, from shoulder down to elbow, into the doorframe, making a loud thud. But he managed to get his door pulled shut just before his grandma and Addi rounded the corner.

  “Oh my goodness,” his grandma said, looking around, “what was that bang?”

  He shrugged and then wrapped an arm around his grandma’s shoulders, giving her a hug. Then he turned to Addi. “Hello, Addi. I wasn’t expecting to see you here. How are you?”

  Once upon a time, he was good at talking to girls. Somewhere along the way, probably after ending things with Zoe, he must’ve forgotten how. Seriously,“I wasn’t expecting to see you here” was the best he could do?

  “Oh, hi, Ian. Your grandma didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”

  He glanced at his grandma and caught the hint of a smile before she hid it. He always came in at the same time on Junior Woodworkers days.

  “Addison is every bit as amazing as you said she was.”

  Addi ducked her head, but he thought he saw a bit of a blush before she did. To tell the truth, he was feeling a little warm around the ears, too. He told his grandma that she organized people’s homes for a living, and based on what he saw when he was helping her roommates move in, she was very good at it. At the time, he hadn’t thought his grandma would actually tell Addi and make it sound like he talked about her nonstop. That was only partway true.

  “I asked her if she could come over and see what she could do for me and all the stuff I’ve collected over the years so when I die, all that work won’t be left to family. Now don’t worry, I don’t plan on dying anytime soon. But I tell you what—this girl here is in high demand. Probably because everyone figured out how good she is. I thought I wouldn’t have a chance swaying her to help me, but she says she’s going to stop by in the evenings and on weekends, just to help an old woman out.”

  Then his grandma winked at him, and she wasn’t entirely subtle about it.

  “Your grandma was pretty hard to say no to when we were kids,” Addi said, then shrugged, “and she’s just as hard to say no to now. And of course I’m happy to help a neighbor out.” Her golden brown hair was pulled into a loose bun, and with the mass of curls she had, it was beautiful. He especially liked how a few curls had escaped and fell next to her slender neck. A lot about her had changed over the years. Not those mischievous hazel eyes he remembered so well from his childhood, though.

  His grandma beamed at her. “Isn’t she the best?”

  He realized he was staring at her. He cleared his throat and said, “So, you’re going to be here a lot after work, huh?”

  She eyed him, and he couldn’t read the expression on her face. Was she happy about that? Sad? Wary? He wasn’t even sure what expression was on his own face. Part of him was smiling just thinking about how she wouldn’t be able to easily duck out or hide when he was around. The much bigger part of him was terrified to have someone he was attracted to—and thinking about way too much to be healthy—be so close.

  “Just two or three times a week.”

  Okay, then. Two or three times a week, he needed to silence the part of him that wanted to see her, and give the terrified part free rein to find reasons why he suddenly had to be away from home.

  6

  Addison

  Addison missed Chloe. She was used to talking to her sister daily and texting dozens of times a day. When she walked through the door of the inn and dropped her purse and keys on the reservation counter, she looked at the clock on her phone. It had been an incredibly long day organizing a shoe and jewelry hoarder’s bedroom all the way over in Lake Oswego, and she was beat. But she did the math, and it was after 3 a.m. in Paris, so a phone call was out of the question.

  So instead, she sent a text. Call me when you’re free to talk business strategy? Her business had started out with a bang, mostly because of Chloe’s genius, but her openings a month and more out weren’t being filled as quickly as she liked, and it was making her a bit nervous. She hesitated for a moment, phone still in hand, and then sent a second text. And maybe chat a bit about my neighbor.

  There. She sent it. Chloe would grill her about it, but she’d also let her talk through things without too much judgment. It’s not that she wanted to be thinking about Ian. But her subconscious didn’t seem to get that memo, so she found her mind wandering to him without her permission.

  She looked toward the stairs, thinking about how much she needed to crash on her bed and watch a show until she got some energy back. But her body was turned toward the kitchen, and she was mentally going through what food was in the fridge and how much effort it would take to put something in her grumbling stomach.

  Her stomach growled even louder, just thinking about her options. Food it was. Maybe that would replenish her energy. She headed into the kitchen and found Bex at her laptop, with the smile on her face that said she was likely either editing one of her YouTube videos or replying to comments from her fans. She glanced at Addison, but kept working, so Addison went to the fridge. Yes! Peyton had made enchiladas and put an “Anyone can eat” sticky note on the top.

  She was just putting a plate with two enchiladas on it into the microwave when Bex must’ve finished what she was working on and shut her laptop. “So...I saw our neighbor today.”

  “Yeah?” She tried to make the word sound uninterested. She might have succeeded.

  “He had just walked out of his shed and was brushing sawdust off that strong chest and arms.”

  She turned around to face her roomie. “Bex.”

  “I’m just saying that maybe you should reconsider dating him.”

  “You’re still pushing that? Even after hearing that he’s just coming off a hard breakup?”

  “You moved in, what, five weeks ago? And his relationship ended some time before then. Maybe he’s in need of a little rebound dating, too.”

  Addison leaned against the counter behind her, chuckling at Bex’s tenacity. “Even if you took all the problems of rebound dating for both of us out of the mix, it’s not like choosing to date someone is all my choice. It takes two people.”

  “And?”

  “And,” Addison let out a frustrated breath, “I’ve never been one to have guys lining up at my door. I’ve had plenty of crushes before—guys I really would’ve liked to date—but that doesn’t mean they feel the same way.” More than she’d like to admit, it was probably a big chunk of the reason why she stayed with Matthew for as long as she did. The whole time, a part of her knew that if they broke up, she might go a very long time before dating someone new, whether she liked it or not.

  Bex looked at her like she was confused or Addison was crazy. Bex had probably never experienced being interested in dating someone but not having him feel the same. “But you’re gorgeous.”

  Addison shook her head, and then ran her curls through her fingers, looking at them as she did. “I know the long curls attract men. Enough that we really start chatting and texting and getting to know each other. And then, before we ever get to the ‘We should go out sometime,’ they’re coming to me for dating advice. I’m the friend, never the girlfriend. Even if I did want to date Ian, which I don’t—I just got out of a two year relationship, after all—that wouldn’t mean that the choice is all up to me. And I can tell that he’s just not interested in going out with me.”

  Before Bex could respond, they both stood up straighter at the sound of lawnmower starting up, cocking their heads toward the sound.

  “Is that in our yard?”

  Instead of answering, Addison raced back out into the front lobby and then into the family room, Bex right on her heels as they ran around the couches and chairs in the large room. At first, they couldn’t see any sign of the lawnmower in their back yard. Then, just a few seconds later, they saw it appear from behind some shrubs that hid the
maintenance shed, being pushed by none other than their neighbor, Ian.

  “Ian’s been the one mowing?” Bex asked.

  Addison shook her head. Maybe she should’ve guessed—it was Ian and his brothers who took care of the yard when they were here for the summers as kids. But who would’ve guessed he still would be doing it now?

  “You should go talk to him. Your car is parked on the side by his house, so he has to know you’re home. It would be rude if you saw it was him and didn’t thank him. I mean, I could thank him, but I don’t own the building, so it wouldn’t carry as much weight coming from me. I think it has to be you.”

  Addison took a deep breath. “You’re right. It’s the neighborly thing to do.”

  She stopped by the downstairs bathroom to make sure her hair wasn’t too crazy, and then headed out the back door. Ian had just turned so his back was to her, mowing down the length of the backyard. So she just waited. Not so she could watch him—it would just simply be rude to come up to him with his back turned when he couldn’t hear her coming.

  Seeing him mow now was nothing like seeing him push the mower when he was a twelve or fourteen-year-old. The last thirteen years had definitely treated him well. Especially in his shoulders and the top of his back, where his muscles were showing very clearly through the fabric of his t-shirt. He didn’t know she was watching, though, so she started feeling like a stalker and instead walked out to meet him.

  She was still a good fifteen feet away when he reached the end of the grass and turned the mower, so he was facing her again. He shut it off as soon as he saw her. He glanced at the part of the lawn he’d already cut, and then scratched the back of his neck. “Looks like I’m busted.”

 

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