Unexpected Heat: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Sarah J. Brooks

  He and the neighbor are lying side by side on respective lounges. Their chins are up, and they are looking at the clouds.

  “I see a car, Mila,” Isaac says.

  “I see it too,” the lady says. Her voice is sweet and gentle, the kind you cannot imagine ever sounding angry. As I get closer, I realize that it’s not just her body that is hot. She’s beautiful with wide blue eyes, a full soft mouth, and blonde locks that frame her face.

  She hears my footsteps and turns her head. She stands up and smiles. Her smile deepens the dimples in her cheeks. My heart does a somersault in my chest.

  “Hi, my name is Mila, and I’m your son’s newest friend.” She sticks out a hand, and I take it. Electricity sizzles as our hands touch. I’ve never had such a reaction to a stranger. Her hand is slim and long and so soft. I don’t want to let go of it.

  “And I’m Brad Bennet, sorry if Isaac—”

  “Not at all. He’s an absolute darling,” she says, glancing at Isaac, who grins at her as if she’s an old friend.

  Her eyes rake me up and down, and I realize that I still have on my apron.

  “Well, thanks for watching him. I was making dinner, and I realized I couldn’t hear him playing out front.” I’m blabbering.

  “That’s fine. We had a good time getting to know each other.”

  She has the bluest eyes I have ever seen. I’m about to excuse myself and Isaac when I realize how rude it is to just leave without inviting her in.

  “Would you like to join us for dinner?” I really want her to say yes. Something about the softness in her face makes me think she’d make a good dinner companion. I almost laugh at myself. Plain lust is making me poetic. She’s hot, and I wouldn’t mind spending the next hour ogling her sexy body.

  She shakes her head, and disappointment floods me. “Thanks, but I’m afraid I can’t. Lots of unpacking to do. I just moved in today.”

  “Well, it’s a standing invitation. Whenever you’re free, let us know. We are a friendly neighborhood.”

  Too friendly, I think to myself as I remember my ex-wife and Mike. I push away the thought, but it has already soured my mood.

  “Say thank you, Isaac,” I say.

  “Thanks, Mila,” Isaac says and comes to my side.

  “Miss Mila,” I correct him.

  She laughs. “Mila is just fine.”

  She says goodbye and turns to enter the house. I stand and stare at her gorgeous ass. I imagine cupping it as I carry her to the bedroom and my cock stirs. She sways as she walks, and then I realize that she’s stopped. I raise my gaze and meet her stare. Her eyes drop to the bulge in my trousers. She looks away and hurries into the house.

  Great. Now she thinks I’m a perv. We’ll probably never see her again. That thought leaves me feeling unsettled. I realize just how much I want to see her. To fuck her if I’m to be brutally honest.

  “Dad!”

  I whirl around. Isaac is already at the front door.

  “Coming.” I steal a last look just as she reaches the door. She slips in and doesn’t look back.

  I let out a breath I was not aware I had been holding.

  Chapter 3

  Mila

  “I hear swish noises; what are you doing? I feel like I don’t have all your attention,” Jessica complains from the other end of the phone call.

  The swish noises she’s hearing are the sound of the curtains as I push them to the side and peek through the window. I feel like one of those nosy neighbors everyone dislikes, but I can’t stop myself. “Mmmm,” I manage to say. My eyes are glued to Brad and Isaac as they leave their car. My mouth waters as I take in Brad’s chest encased in a tight-fitting white T-shirt. From behind the curtain, I can tell that he’s been sweating as the T-shirt clings to his skin.

  “Mila,” Jessica says.

  “Hush, give me a minute. I’m eye-fucking my new neighbor. The one I told you about.”

  She giggles. My attention returns to Brad. I imagine running my hands over his muscular thighs. A sigh escapes my lips.

  “Describe him to me again,” Jessica says, her tone urgent.

  “You’re sick and married,” I tell her as Brad and Isaac disappear from view.

  “Nothing wrong with looking,” she says. “Or hearing, in this case.”

  I collapse onto the couch. I feel as if I’ve been running, and all I’ve done all day was to go out for groceries and do some cleaning.

  “Have you met him? What does he do? God, this is so exciting, better than a porn movie.”

  “You watch porn?” I’m horrified.

  “Steamy, not porn and I watch it with David,” she says.

  “I’d really love to indulge your fantasies, but I’ve got to go,” I tell Jessica as I remember Isaac’s ball that I picked up that morning from my garden.

  “Hey, you can’t just go and leave me hanging,” Jessica says.

  I laugh and disconnect the call. I adjust my denim shorts and a white sleeveless top. Then I get Isaac’s ball and head for the door. I try to talk myself out of it as I cross the driveway. Isaac will leave the house at some point. It’s only been two days, but I can already tell that he likes playing outside.

  What if he goes out and I’m not there to give him back his ball?

  I could leave the ball on their porch.

  That’s just plain rude.

  I do this as I go up to the door. Suggest solutions and then answer why that won’t work. Before I know it, I’m knocking on the door.

  I’m about to give up when I hear footsteps from the other side of the door. It flings open, and Brad stands there smiling at me. For a few seconds, I can’t speak. He’s naked except for a towel wrapped around his middle.

  “Hi,” I croak and hold out Isaac’s ball. “I found this in my garden.”

  His hair is damp and matted to his scalp. Brad looks good enough to eat. He doesn’t make a move to take the ball.

  “Why don’t you come in for a little while? I’m sure Isaac would love to see you.”

  I want to say no, knowing I’m invading their privacy and their time together, but the communication between my brain and mouth is off. I nod and smile. And then I do the stupidest thing. I drop my gaze to the front of his towel. I see the outline of his cock.

  It jerks. I think. I’m not sure whether it’s my lusty imagination, or it actually moved. All I can tell is that it’s big. I drag my gaze to his face, and to my embarrassment, Brad is staring at me. My face heats, and I’m sure he knows that I spent half the night fantasizing about him fucking me. Madness. I know.

  “Sure, just for a little bit,” I say quickly to cover up my shame.

  I step into the foyer and immediately notice how big their house is. Much bigger than mine. I look around appreciatively.

  “Give me a few to put something on,” Brad says as he shows me to the living room.

  The house is tastefully furnished with deep comfortable chairs, a couch, and a gorgeous coffee table in the middle. A few rugs are arranged on the hardwood floor, and a few photographs hang from the wall.

  One of the photographs is of a younger Isaac with his parents kneeling on each side of him. Sadness comes over me as I look at the pretty redhead who must have been Brad’s wife. I feel dirty, and I immediately regret my decision to come over.

  His wife is dead, and here I am, already clamoring for her man. Sick, that’s what I am. I make a move to stand.

  “Mila!” Isaac shouts as he comes into the room.

  “Hi, Isaac,” I say. “Going for a swim?” He’s in swimming shorts, and a small towel is flung across his shoulder.

  “Yes,” he said and grins. He’s a gorgeous boy. His smile is contagious, and I smile back. “Do you want to swim too?”

  I shake my head. “Another time. I could watch, though?”

  He nods. “Okay.”

  His dad joins us, and I try to keep my gaze away from his ripped chest. Isaac told me he was a fireman, and I wonder if he would be averse to putting out the
fire in my pussy. The photograph pulls me again, and I shut down my filthy thoughts.

  I trail after them through the kitchen to the back door. The small pool is shaped like a bent sausage, and it makes me giggle. On the corner is a medium-sized trampoline.

  “You’re welcome to come and swim anytime you want,” Brad says as he pulls out a chair for me.

  “Thanks,” I say. I might just take him up on that offer.

  Their backyard is glorious, nothing like mine, which is all cement except for a tiny patch of grass. Still, the house has an attic room made entirely of glass. The light there is out of this world, and as much as I told Jessica I was taking a break from painting, it makes me pick up my brush.

  Brad goes back to the house, and I admire the backyard. Along the fence is a garden bursting with colorful flowers. A flowery scent permeates the air, and I let out a sigh.

  “Watch me jump, Mila,” Isaac shouts before he jumps and lands in the water with a splash.

  I laugh at the delight in his face. Brad returns with a jug of iced tea and three glasses. He pours us each a glass and sits down.

  “He’s a good kid,” I say as we both watch Isaac’s antics in the water.

  “That he is,” Brad says. “I don’t know what I’d do without him.” He sounds so sad.

  “I’m sorry about your wife. Isaac told me.”

  He turns to look at me, and my heart skips a beat. He has dark brown eyes, but the longer I stare into them, I realize that they are not just dark brown. They are liquid chocolate brown.

  “What exactly did he tell you?” Brad’s voice jolts me. It’s not exactly cold, but it’s not friendly either. I worry that I have crossed a line.

  “He just told me that she’s gone. He didn’t tell me any other details. I’m really sorry. That must have been hard to lose your wife at such a young age. I saw the photograph, she was…”

  Brad’s mouth opens. He stares at me incredulously. “Isaac told you his mother was dead?”

  “Not in so many words,” I say feeling thoroughly uncomfortable. I’ve never been good with people and small talk. I always manage to put my foot in it, saying the wrong thing. I should be locked up. Worse yet, in this case, I don’t even know what I said wrong.

  “Brenda didn’t die,” Brad says. “She ran off with another man. She left us.”

  My heart drops to my feet. Horror comes over me. “I’m sorr—” I start to say and then shut my mouth. I drop my gaze and stare at my hands. That is one pain that I’m familiar with. My own heartbreak pales in comparison. Clay and I did not have a child.

  “It’s fine; you didn’t know. Please think nothing of it. I’m just surprised that he told you anything, that’s all. We never talk about it.”

  I raise my gaze. “If it makes you feel better, he didn’t dwell on it. He said it in a matter of fact voice.”

  I can’t fathom how someone would run off with another man and leave Brad and Isaac. How? What or who could possibly replace these two?

  Brad smiles sadly. “Thanks, I’ve been wondering about that.”

  We exchange a look that goes beyond two strangers exchanging small talk. It feels as if we understand each other. “I do know a little of what you’re going through,” I say and immediately regret it.

  “Oh,” Brad says and waits for me to continue.

  I swallow a ball of saliva. “My ex-husband ran off with another woman. But we didn’t have any children.” My eyes meander to Isaac.

  “I’m sorry,” Brad says. “Your ex-husband is a fool!”

  I’m startled by the comment. “Why?”

  “Leaving a beautiful woman like you.” He stares at me as if he means every word.

  My insides shiver. A nervous laugh escapes my lips. I do that a lot when I’m nervous. I’m hot all over. With trembling hands, I pick up my iced tea and take a huge sip. Big mistake. It goes down the wrong pipe, and before long, I’m coughing like mad.

  Brad hurries to my side and thumps my back. As my throat clears, he rubs my back in a circular motion, shifting my bra every time. The slight movement makes my nipples harden.

  “Better?” he asks.

  I shake my head. I’m not ready for his hand to leave my back. His other hand touches my bare arm. Arousal sparks, awakening longings I had long forgotten. My thighs tremble, and my pussy quivers. I have never experienced such lust for a man.

  “Thanks, I’m better now,” I say, my voice weird.

  I’m so hot for him, it’s embarrassing. I gulp the rest of my tea and mark time until it’s a decent enough interval to leave. I need to relieve the rising itch in my pussy.

  Chapter 4

  Mila

  The house is sparkling clean, and I make sure that by the time quarter past three rolls around, I’m outside in the garden. I need to catch a glimpse of Brad again. I pluck non-existent weeds from the flower bed. How have I turned from a mature woman to a lusty teenager in a few short days?

  There’s no time to think further as Brad’s SUV pulls up in the driveway. I stand up and smile at him.

  Isaac gets out of the car and comes to say hello. I ruffle his dark hair, so like his dad’s. A cell phone shrieks. It’s Brad’s. He speaks as he gets out of the car.

  “Hey, Debbie, did we leave something?” He frowns.

  I multitask, speaking to Isaac about his day and looking at his dad.

  “No problem, don’t worry about it. I’ll figure something out,” he says.

  He comes to where we’re standing and shoots me a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

  “How have you been, we missed you yesterday,” Brad says.

  I’d gone to the store and stocked up on sketchbooks and pencils. I’d spent all day lost in my work like an excited child. I had forgotten the sheer joy of drawing for enjoyment. My sketchpad was a quarter way filled with caricatures of Brad and Isaac.

  Before I can answer, Isaac asks his dad for the house keys.

  “Are you okay?” I ask him. He’s a stranger, and yet he’s not.

  “Just babysitting issues. They crop up now and then,” he says.

  “I can help,” I tell him. I really don’t mind. Isaac is a darling, and I enjoy his company.

  “My colleague’s wife usually picks up Isaac and keeps him home for two and a half hours until I can pick him up. She has to take one of her own kids to the doctor tomorrow after school.”

  “I can watch him until you come home.”

  He looks hesitant.

  “You can check me out. No criminal record and I love kids,” I tell him with what I hope is a reassuring smile.

  “That’s easy to believe. Isaac is always talking about you,” Brad says. “I’ll just say yes and hope that I’m not imposing,” he says, sounding resigned. My heart goes out to him. It must be difficult to juggle single parenthood and a full-time job.

  “I’ll call Debbie back and ask if she can drop Isaac here,” he says. He makes the call, and from his responses, I figure that they agree.

  “Great, that’s set then,” I say when he tells me that Debbie will drop Isaac off at a few minutes past three.

  He looks uncertain. I save him the trouble of how to exit. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

  “Yeah. Okay. Thanks so much, Mila. You’re a lifesaver.”

  ***

  The following day, I sit outside on the lounge chair well before quarter past three. At exactly three-fifteen, a white minivan cruises into the driveway and comes to a stop. I stand and approach it as the driver’s window is opened.

  “You must be Mila?” a pretty dark-haired woman says. “I’m Debbie; I came by to drop Isaac off.”

  “Yes, I am, and thanks for dropping him.” I don’t know why I say that. As if I’m Isaac’s relation.

  “You’re new here?” she says.

  “Yes, but Isaac, his dad and I are like old friends now, isn’t that right?” I say to Isaac as he comes to my side and wraps his hands around my waist. My heart swells with love for him. I already love t
his kiddo. You can’t not love Isaac. He’s just sweet.

  “Well, I better get going before we miss our appointment,” Debbie says, though I can tell that she would like to know more about me.

  “It was nice to meet you,” I tell her, and we stand there watching her back out of the driveway. “Let’s go in. I’ve made something yummy for you,” I tell Isaac, and we walk into the house hand in hand.

  The house is rather bare and not as warm as his house, but Isaac doesn’t seem to mind or notice. Kids are wonderful like that. They take you for who you are. My heart squeezes painfully. I’ll probably never experience motherhood.

  “It smells nice in here,” Isaac says.

  “Let’s go to the kitchen,” I tell him. “I made an after-school snack. Chocolate cake. I hope you’ll like it.”

  “Yay,” Isaac says when he sees the small round cake on the kitchen table. He goes to the sink, washes his hands, and plops down on the chair.

  I cut him a piece and pour him a glass of milk from the fridge and do the same for myself. Isaac makes appreciative noises as he eats, and it warms my heart. I’ve never cooked for a child before. It makes me feel good inside to see him clear his plate.

  “Want some more?” I ask him.

  “No, thanks, I’m full,” he says and leans back to pat his stomach.

  I shift in my seat as it dawns on me that I had not thought beyond the after school snack. What were we going to do between now and when Isaac’s dad came home? My house had no pool or trampoline. Even if it did, Isaac’s swim shorts were in his house.

  “Do you want to play hide and seek?” he asks.

  “Yes,” I say enthusiastically, and soon, I’m crouched behind a curtain as Isaac counts up to ten.

  I can’t remember laughing so hard. Time just flies by as we play hide and seek. Isaac becomes more creative the longer we play, and it takes longer to find him. His dad’s car pulls up while we’re still in the middle of the game. Isaac is hiding, and I’m searching.

  Minutes later, the doorbell rings, and I go to open it.