Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 59231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
“I just…” she began, then shrugged again, letting her chin fall down to her chest dejectedly. “I can’t put you out like that again. I just can’t. I can’t make your day any longer because mine has been so awful.”
“Seriously, it’s not a problem,” I said. “I have a guest bedroom that I have literally never used. Come on.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. Her voice was so weak and sad that it broke my heart.
“Sure,” I said. “Where are your bags?”
“Right beside the door,” she said. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” I said. “Like I said, that’s what neighbors do.”
I grabbed the two duffel bags that were by the door as she hoisted the heavy-looking backpack onto her back and grabbed her purse. As we walked out, she turned and locked the door, then looked at me.
“I know you said you were my neighbor,” she said. “But which side?”
“This way,” I laughed, heading toward my home. “The other side is an old couple. Mean as snakes too.”
“Ahh,” she said. “Fantastic.”
“You’ll be fine,” I said. “They’ve been complaining about the grass at this house for a while. They’ll be thrilled someone is going to be keeping up with it again.”
“Goody,” she said.
I had left my door unlocked, and as we got to the house, I opened it and ushered her inside first out of the rain. She looked around the house, and I could almost feel her looking for the exits. She was going into a complete stranger’s house, a strange man at that. I understood her apprehension.
“This way,” I said, passing by her and heading down the hall.
I opened the door of the guest room and set her bags on the desk inside. She came in behind me and stopped in the doorway, looking around.
“This is my guest room,” I said. “I set it up for my sister, but she is off doing her own thing and hasn’t come to visit yet. Not since I got all the furniture and stuff.”
“It’s gorgeous,” she said, clearly being polite.
It wasn’t gorgeous. It was a grandma room. The comforters were my own grandmother’s from years and years ago, and the room essentially looked like what I remembered hers looking like when I was very young. It would be right at home in a nursing center. I was pretty sure if I turned the television sitting on the table by the end of the bed on, it would only play Matlock and Murder, She Wrote.
“Thank you,” I said. “The real upside is it has its own bathroom, over there.” I motioned to the door in the back of the room, and she followed it and then looked back, her eyes widened with a small measure of excitement. “Go ahead and get a shower and get comfortable. I’ll make some dinner. Pasta all right with you? I have a kind of limited menu.”
“Pasta sounds amazing,” she said. “Thank you so much.”
“Enjoy,” I said. “Anything you need, just let me know.”
I ducked out, closing the door behind me and heading into the kitchen. The kitchen and her bathroom shared a wall, and as I was cutting onions—and trying desperately not to let my eyes water—I heard the water turn on in the tub. If you took the wall out, I was just feet away from her. My mind wandered dangerously for someone with a sharp knife in their hand, and I could almost see her under the faucet, steam billowing up around her, soapy water sliding down her bare chest.
I shivered, hard.
Those thoughts needed to get locked away for now. It was true that even with her tears and smeared makeup and hair that had fallen out of its bun to lie soaking across her forehead, she was still beautiful. And now she was in my house. Naked. In my shower.
I shook my head, feeling like a creep.
Get yourself together Marine.
I put the onions in the pan to fry up, along with some peppers and celery. A little salt and pepper on them would help them get nice and fragrant before the garlic and meat went into the pan.
I just hoped that the meal might make her feel better and I might see that smile one more time.
6
ALLISON
Well, none of it was how I expected this day to end up.
It had been a shitty day. There was no arguing that. But the ending of it was looking like it would go one of two ways. Either I would have a dinner with a gorgeous, friendly sweetheart of a man who also just so happened to be my new neighbor, then get some sleep, or I would be murdered at some point and stuffed in a box. Late night binge watching of murder shows taught me the latter was more likely, but at the point I had reached, I was willing to risk it.