“Well, welcome, neighbor!” I called out as I approached.
Both men turned simultaneously to face me, and it was a wonder I didn’t drop the tray. I was caught in a laser beam of hotness. Holy crap! Of course, I’d known they were hot—Jill and I had been watching them play basketball through the blinds for the last hour like two total creepers. But this close up it became a bit overwhelming. White smiles, bright eyes, glistening sweat. Why didn’t women carry those little fans around with them anymore?
I could feel the heat flush over me as I forced more words from my throat. “Pretty hot out here. I brought you some lemonade. Didn’t know if you’d had a chance to unpack dishes and whatnot yet.”
They both eyed the pitcher appreciatively. “Haven’t unpacked a single box,” hottie neighbor responded in a friendly tone as he tucked the basketball under his arm. “Thank you. Very kind of you.” His blue eyes practically sparkled as he continued, “I’m Erik.”
He extended a hand, but soon realized I didn’t have one to spare so he gave me a little wave instead before gesturing to his shirtless friend. “And this is my friend Kyle. He helped me unload everything.”
I took in all that was Kyle and considered changing my mission to focus on him instead. I’d never seen an eight-pack in real life before. I kind of assumed they were a myth along the lines of unicorns and abdominal—ahem, I mean abominable—snowmen. Oh, shut up, Jenna! And stop staring at his stomach, for God’s sake!
I forced my gaze up to a more respectable level. “So nice to meet both of you.” I smiled again, sure my nervousness was announcing itself like a Times Square billboard. These guys were way out of my league. If I didn’t know for a fact that Jill was staring daggers into my back at this very moment, I’d turn and flee like my hair was on fire. Grrr.
“Jenna Watson,” I managed. “I’m just next door to you. Are you new to the area or just to the street?”
“Just the street,” Erik’s sweaty hair shifted to cover his forehead. “I used to live in a condo downtown. Time for more space.”
Hmm… space for what? A dog? A giant vinyl collection? Or a wife and kids I hadn’t seen yet?
Kyle took a step forward. “Can I help you with that?” He gestured to the tray with a curve of his lips.
Ooh—hot and a gentleman. Who was I to refuse? “Thanks. That’s so kind. It’s heavier than I imagined.” Good God, I was practically cooing.
Kyle took the tray while I immediately set to the task of pouring lemonade into the two glasses resting alongside the pitcher. My hands shook, making me want to curse.
“So, it’s homemade. The lemonade,” I clarified as I handed the first glass over to Erik. And then—for reasons I will surely never understand—I freaking giggled like some pandering idiot and practically batted my eyelashes at him. The urge to punch myself in the face was overwhelming. I was a grown-ass woman supposed to be putting out the strong and sexy vibe, not blushing and mooning like a teenager.
But to my utter shock, Erik’s lips spread in an inviting smile. Huh, maybe I was better at this than I’d thought. I ordered myself to remain cool and offered Kyle his glass, trading him for the tray. “I hope it’s not too sweet.”
Both men took deep swallows, tipping their heads back in tandem to expose long, sweaty throats and prominent Adam’s apples. I had the urge to glance around to see if anybody else was benefitting from this spectacular show. Maybe I should grab Jill and pull up a couple lawn chairs so we could enjoy a long afternoon of ogling.
“It’s perfect.” Erik smacked his lips, lowering his glass enough to speak. Jill had been right—Mom’s lemonade worked wonders.
“So, is it only you? Or is your wife—or girlfriend—at work?” Real smooth, Jenna.
But Erik’s smile remained in place. “Nope. No wife or girlfriend.” He quickly downed the last of his lemonade as Kyle followed suit. “This really hit the spot, Jenna.”
I smiled widely as they both returned their glasses to my tray, but it was then I felt a sort of shift in the air. Kyle looked down at his feet while Erik rubbed his palms together. My smile faltered as I got the distinct impression I was being given my dismissal—a kind one, but a dismissal nonetheless. Maybe I’d been too forward? Too cooky? Or perhaps just plain uninteresting. Oh God. It was time to retreat.
“Well, I should get back.” Cheeks flushing, I turned to go, thankful for the tray in my hands preventing me from shooting them the double guns or something equally embarrassing.
“Terrific meeting you,” Erik called after me.
I gave him a backward glance, just managing to maintain a painful smile. “The pleasure was all mine. Welcome to Juniper Court.” Where psycho single moms throw themselves at you because they haven’t had sex in over two years!
“Thanks!” One of them called, but I was too intent on getting back inside my own damn house to look back again. My front door opened just as I scurried up the steps. I didn’t even stop to see the look on Jill’s face as I marched straight to the kitchen where I slammed the tray down on the counter and stuck my entire head under the kitchen faucet.
“It couldn’t have been that bad.” Jill was being kind to me. That meant it was even worse than I’d thought.
I stared dolefully at her. “I giggled!”
Her encouraging expression dropped. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” My fingers wrapped around the dishtowel as I did my best to dry my hair after my arctic plunge into the sink.
She bit her lip, searching for a response. “Well, some guys like girls who giggle.”
The towel hit the counter. “Yes, Jill. Girls. Not women.”
“Well, in retrospect, it was probably a shitty plan to seduce your neighbor into a fling. I mean, you’d still have to live next door to him when it was over.”
I tilted my head and considered her before giving a short nod. “You know what? You’re absolutely right. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Feeling a bit better, I resumed the drying.
“I know exactly what you were thinking.” Her lips curved into a wicked smile. “’Cuz it’s the exact same thing I’m still thinking.” She began swiveling her hips in a suggestive dance.
I punched her in the arm, hair forgotten. “You are the worst!”
Always quick with retaliation, she punched me in the boob. “Hey! I don’t live next door to the guy—or his friend.”
My hand cupped my poor injured boob. “Well, I didn’t get the vibe that either of them was open for business. And, by the way, OW!”
“You hit me first,” she fired back.
“And to think I assumed having the girls away for a month would mean a break from juvenile behavior in the house.”
“You want me to hit the other one to make it a matching set?” Jill cocked her fists and assumed a fighter’s pose.
“No thanks. One mangled breast is enough.”
She grinned at me and helped herself to a glass of lemonade while I held up the towel and frowned at it. Two bright red streaks marred the pale blue linen. “Shit.” My hand went to my hair. “I thought you said the hair dye was permanent?”
Jill’s eyes flashed to my hair and then the towel, her lips spreading in a strained smile. “It may have said semi-permanent. Maybe you have to wash it a couple times to get rid of the excess?” She shrugged and I narrowed my eyes at her.
Eager to encourage any impulsive behavior, Jill had brought a bottle of red hair dye with her when she came over to insert herself into my neighbor stalking this morning. I’d seen other people my age experiment with touches of bright color in their hair, but always dismissed it as something I could never pull off. A casual mention to Jill that I might, perhaps, maybe, someday try a streak or two in my own hair had her locking onto the idea with an iron grip. That was how I found myself leaning over my bathtub this morning with Jill assuring me she was only applying the smallest bit of dye and keeping it to the under layers of my hair. I was still unconvinced it suited me, but it certainly did the trick of taking me out
of the comfort zone I’d built for myself—the same one that would never in a million years have allowed me to flirt with my neighbor.
And that was the whole point.
I was embarking on a mission to open a new chapter in my life.
But bombing with the neighbor and seeing the streaks on the ruined towel made me feel ridiculous and had me pining for the safety of my comfort zone. I was too old for this shit, wasn’t I?
You’re only getting older, Jenna. I closed my eyes and tried to firm my resolve, reminding myself that I’d already wasted the past two years of my life. Two very long years I’d spent fighting to regain my confidence and sense of self, not to mention building a newly defined family where my girls could feel secure—even though their parents were living under two different roofs. I’d made a promise to get back in the game after two years—only, this go-round, I would take more risks, have more fun, push more boundaries. The hair dye was supposed to be just the beginning. But did I have the guts to go through with my plans? I didn’t know anymore.
Kate and Eileen had left yesterday to stay with Mike and his new wife, Kristen, over the holiday break. I’d be alone in this house for almost a month, so it was the perfect time to shake things up. It was now or never. The girls were away, I was off work for the month, I’d just had a pedicure, and I was going to get laid. Especially if my sister had anything to say about it.
The truth was I had trouble keeping things from Jill—always had. She was my lifeline during the divorce, and I owed her more than I could ever let her know. But she’d always been a nosy bitch, so it wasn’t as if I could keep her out of my business even if I wanted to. We’d come up with the two-year plan over a couple bottles of wine and a stack of signed divorce papers. At the time, it had technically already been six months since Mike had moved out, so I was given eighteen months to wallow and heal. And now, my time was up.
Back in the saddle! Yee-freaking-ha.
I opened my eyes and focused on the dishtowel. I was so not ready for this.
“Hey.” Jill’s voice was soft but managed to bring me out of my head nonetheless. “It’s just a towel.” She set down her glass and pulled me into a hug, completely ignoring the likelihood of staining her clothes red. Damn, it was good to have a sister.
I hugged her back, letting out the breath I’d been holding. “Thanks, Jilly.”
She gave me one last squeeze before pulling back. “So the first day didn’t go our way. We’ve still got time.”
“Yeah,” I responded, even managing to muster up a smile as I held the ruined towel between us with a thumb and forefinger. “Mike picked these out anyway.”
Jill snorted. “Ha! I should have guessed. They’re boring—just like him.”
That brought a genuine smile to my face. I looked at my sister for another beat before letting my eyes skip around the spacious kitchen where more matching towels adorned hooks and handles.
“You know what? You’re right. They’re boring as hell.” Making a slow path around the kitchen, I snatched each pale blue towel from its resting place, not pausing until I stood before the stainless steel trash can on the opposite side of the kitchen island. With a press of my foot, the lid popped open, inviting me to dump the entire stack of linens inside—right on top of the pile of discarded lemon rinds and the morning’s coffee grounds. My gaze found Jill just as I let the lid close with a bang.
I couldn’t help my laugh when she started a classic slow clap in my honor. “Nicely done.” Her tone suggested I was some badass warrior instead of a woman who’d simply tossed away some scraps of fabric her asshole ex-husband had purchased.
Then we both laughed at the ridiculousness of it all and ordered a pizza. But we made sure to get it with extra cheese like the badasses we were.
To continue reading Jenna and Sam’s story, get Then Again, now available in ebook, paperback, and audiobook.
Also by Sylvie Stewart
Then Again (the full-length follow-up to About That)
The Fix (Carolina Connections, Book 1)
The Spark (Carolina Connections, Book 2)
The Lucky One (Carolina Connections, Book 3)
The Game (Carolina Connections, Book 4)
The Way You Are (Carolina Connections, Book 5)
The Runaround (Carolina Connections, Book 6)
Carolina Connections Box Set 1
Carolina Connections Box Set 2
The Nerd Next Door (Carolina Kisses, Book 1)
New Jerk in Town (Carolina Kisses, Book 2)
The Last Good Liar (Carolina Kisses, Book 3)
Between a Rock and a Royal (Kings of Carolina, Book 1)
Blue Bloods and Backroads (Kings of Carolina, Book 2)
Stealing Kisses With a King (Kings of Carolina, Book 3)
Kings of Carolina Box Set
Happy New You
Game Changer
Full-On Clinger
About the Author
Sylvie Stewart is a USA Today bestselling author of romantic comedy and contemporary romance. She’s married to a hilarious dude and has crazy twin boys who keep her busy and make her world go ‘round. Her love of all things North Carolina is no secret, nor is her ultimate wish of snuggling her very own pet baby goat. If you love smart Southern gals, hot blue-collar guys, and snort-laughing with characters who feel like your best friends, Sylvie’s your gal.
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About That...: A Small Town Romantic Comedy Page 8