Page 29 of Sexy Bad Neighbor

CHAPTER NINE

PAYNTER

Life plans are like assholes. Everyone has one. Garrett has a plan to raise his daughter and play the field at the same time. James has a plan to keep his company synonymous with corporate real estate and retire early. Ronnie has a plan. God knows what it is other than having her interiors on the glossy pages of magazines like Martha Stewart Living and Elle Décor. She always had those littered around our parents’ living room. The point is, everyone has a plan, including me, but there’s a huge difference between having goals and dreams to accomplish and micromanaging every single aspect of your life to some ridiculous expectation.

There’s no air around people like that. I don’t know why I figured Chloe was different. I was so wrong, it’s laughable. But I’m not laughing.

Instead I’m playing golf with James and trying not to consider his role in Chloe’s grand scheme and why his appearance at my house the morning after she’d spent the night in my arms sent her into a tailspin.

“Your swing’s off,” James says as my ball flies into the rough for the twelfth time this morning. “You haven’t played this badly since—”

“Don’t say it. I don’t want to hear it,” I snap, picking up my tee. The last thing I want to talk about is women, with their calculated plans that involve getting away from me so they can run into the arms of people like him.

I’m proud of my elder brother for being driven and successful. And it’s understandable that he looks the part, but what the hell is with Chloe freaking out when she heard him in my house? Obviously they know each other, and recalling our first meeting she did say she works in corporate real estate. It would be understandable for them to mingle in the same circles, wouldn’t it? I’m almost certain James would know every player in his field on some level, but Chloe’s reaction came across as much more than friendly, or not so friendly, competition between rival companies. It almost seemed personal. Did they date at some point? Does she want to date him? Is that why she lost it— because she spent the night with the wrong brother when she planned to get her mitts on James?

When he swings, the ball soars through the air with almost uncanny accuracy, landing on the green. “Look, I know you get tired of our bringing her up, but we worry about you. That house isn’t your style at all. The chandelier.” He shakes his head, since there’s really nothing to say about how damn awful it is. “It’s like you’re living with a ghost.”

“Well, I’m not.” I grimace. I can see where he’s coming from, looking in. Bernadette’s stamp is still on my life, but it’s only a house. “It’s a great house, in a great location where I happen to like living. I’m socializing again, but you know my work is mostly solo.”

“Garrett did say you met someone,” he says, as we hop into the cart and drive along the fairway toward where we last saw my ball.

“What did he say?” After everything Garrett said that night, I’d still believed he was wrong, but apparently, I have a type. The more stuck-up and emotionally unavailable, the better. But the first step in dealing with a problem is recognizing you have a problem. Whatever there was between Chloe and I is over. It’s not worth analyzing.

“He said you were hitting it off with one of your neighbors.”

He leans on his golf club while I poke around in the rough, locating my ball. Chloe and I had certainly been hitting it off, if that’s what James wants to call it. Then he waltzed into my house, and she went ice cold on me. I check my swing before I thwack the ball back onto the fairway. It bounces a couple times and rolls to a stop close to the green. “He should probably learn to keep his mouth shut.”

“That’s not Garrett’s style. You know that.” He checks his Rolex. “This’ll have to be the last hole. I have a business luncheon at the club.”

“You’re always working.” I shoulder my golf bag and lead the way to where our balls wait. “When was the last time you actually went out and had fun for the hell of it?”

“You’re one to talk. Up all night at that computer of yours. I bet you still sleep at your desk more often than not.”

“The difference between us is that work isn’t the be all and end all for me. I’m not trying to accomplish anything.” I’m not working my ass off because it’s part of some grand scheme to have the perfect life. As far as I’m concerned, the one I’ve got is as damn close to ideal as I need to get. Unlike James, who is always shooting for something better. Unlike Chloe.

“I suspect you might know my neighbor. Or at least I think she knows you.”

“I know your neighbor? Is this the one Garrett’s been talking about?” He shifts his iron from hand to hand with a puckered brow while he waits for me to take my next shot.

“I assume so.” I adjust my stance and bring my club up as I focus on where I want the ball to land. My grip on the stick is almost as tight as the joints in my jaw just remembering how Chloe called being with me a mistake, and how she’d ousted me because she has all these big plans. “She ran out of my house after you left like her ass was on fire.”

“Because of me?” He massages his temples, blocking out the sun with his hand. “Who is she?”

I swing and connect with my golf ball, sending it flying. This time it lands on the green feet from his. “Name’s Chloe. I’m not actually sure of her last name. She definitely works in your field.”

“Chloe? Dark hair, blue eyes? A little reminiscent of Liz Taylor?”

“Yup, that would be the one.” I nod.

He chortles and his shoulders shudder. “You’re joking, aren’t you?”

“Do I look like I am?” I glare at him, picking up my bag and marching toward the green. I’m grateful we’re almost done here if his reaction is anything to go by. There’s clearly a relationship of some sort between the pair.

“You’re hitting it off with Chloe Green?”

“I was.” I give a half-shrug. “Until she saw you.”

“Wait.” His brows draw together in a line over his eyes. “Do I detect jealousy in my little brother? Is that why your game is off today? Because you think Chloe and I—”

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