Page 4 of Sexy Bad Neighbor

CHAPTER TWO

PAYNTER

Garrett strolls in from outside with the last box for the kitchen. Setting it down on the marble counter, he thrusts his hands in his pockets and surveys my new digs for what seems like the hundredth time today. My older brother has barely been here for half an hour, and his contribution to getting everything moved in is dismal. I knew I should have told him I was moving next week.

He wanders around the gourmet kitchen, stopping by the door of the adjoining stately dining room and letting out a low whistle. “This is impressive, Paynter.”

Collapsing another of the smaller boxes, I add it to the stack near the folding doors that look out over the deck and expanse of lawn to the wooden jetty on the lake. At least the house has private access to the tree-lined shore in its favor. That was the one thing Bernadette hadn’t been pleased with when she’d gone on and on about her dream house, and the only asset that sold me on buying it.

“After what I paid for it, it ought to be.”

“True.” He stares at the baseboard near his feet. Blue eyes, not unlike my own, crinkle around the corners, making his exhaustion more obvious.

It can’t be easy raising a two-year-old on his own. My niece is cute as hell, but a handful, and Garrett’s had to learn how to be a sole parent in a matter of months. He didn’t even know he had a daughter until her mother dropped her off at his office six months ago. Apparently Abby didn’t quite fit into her life, so it was better she live with her father.

Garrett clears his throat, and I can tell he’s itching to say something about my ex, and how I’m not moving on, since that’s where most of our conversations have led recently. Especially since he’s still managing to squeeze in a date every other week and rarely with the same woman. “That chandelier in the foyer couldn’t have been cheap.”

Bernadette had insisted the fixture would be the perfect grand extravagance to greet guests as soon as they stepped inside the stately home she’d visualized as the crown jewel of her goals. It’s just another reminder of how far I was willing to go to make her happy. Not that it had meant a damn thing when she’d up and moved across the country.

I might be stuck with that glass and crystal monstrosity in the foyer, but at least it reminds me that Miss Hoity-Toity Five-Year Plan is past tense. I’d been holding her back, according to her email. Guys like me just weren’t husband material for someone like her. If only I’d gotten into a field of work that meant something, she might have been able to see us as the power couple she needed to be part of, but I’d never been reliable when it came to her life ambitions.

It had been perfect timing really. The moment everything I’d worked toward fell into place as she’d bowed out. Though I’m a little put out at moving into this pretentious neighborhood without her. I’m not even sure whether I’ll keep the house or put it back on the market. It’s a giant “fuck you” reminder though to not get involved again. At least not with a stuck up, heartless woman who would crush anyone in her path to get ahead. Like that chick at the bar last night, Chloe.

I smirk a little as I use a cutting knife to slice through the packing tape on the last box. That pole she was sporting was shoved so far up her ass I had no trouble imagining the thing protruding from her head. For a minute there, I’d thought she was hot in a “not my type of woman” way and had considered the fun in replacing that damn pole with my own. My mistake.

She was very clear about what she thought of me, and all I did was ask her what she wanted to drink. Then there was that whole dynamic with those women she was meeting. Bernadette had been involved in something like that too. Women who have plans and couldn’t care less who they trod on to achieve their goals. Except that one woman whose partner vomited on her boss’s shoes. That guy should have been trying harder to support his woman.

“So the chandelier? How much did that set you back?” Garrett’s voice breaks my train of thought.

“You have a whole house to pick on and you choose the lousy chandelier?” Opening the box, I check the contents. Silverware and kitchen towels.

“I’m just trying to shed some light on the fact that this isn’t really your style.”

“Do you think I’m unaware of that?” Of course he would make a bad play on words. Pulling out the towels, I stack them into a drawer. I still have no idea what happened to the iron, since I unpacked everything else last night and this morning. Guess I’ll have to buy another next time I go to the store. “You’ve got a handle on the lame dad jokes, I see.”

“Part and parcel of being a father, I’m afraid.” He snickers, moving to the refrigerator and opening one of the French doors to snag a beer. “I don’t know why you didn’t sell the place and buy something a little more you.”

“Like what?”

“I suppose there aren’t many houses marketed as basement living.” He lifts his brows, a wide smirk crossing his face while he uses a corner of his shirt to twist the lid of the bottle in his hand. If I have learned anything in thirty-odd years, it’s that my older siblings are always going to give me flack for staying so long in our parents’ basement. Serial killer, nerd, geek are all words Garrett and my sister have thrown around. Nerd and geek are titles I’ve come to accept, since my career is in coding and apps, but the jabs are getting old.

Tossing the last of the silverware into their separate spots in the top drawer, I get my own beverage. “You know it wasn’t my plan to live there as long as I did. I was just helping our parents out.”

I take a swig of my beer as I cross to the folding doors and step out onto the deck. There’s not much garden, just a long stretch of lawn boxed in by trees, but from the deck I can see into the neighbor’s backyard.

“You didn’t show up last night,” I accuse Garrett. “You talked me into going to that shindig and bailed on me.”

“Sorry about that. The sitter cancelled at the last minute.”

“It would have been nice if you called me. I could have gotten more of the house in order. Or stretched out with a beer or two and admired this view.” Which would have been preferable to making small chat with people I don’t know. Not that I’d been exactly bored. Last night had come with its own unique entertainment.

If only Chloe could have seen her face while the cowboy stripper was grinding all over her. The woman had turned a mottled shade of puce. If the hostility in her dark blue eyes had been laser beams, I have no doubt I’d be dead, but there was nothing she could do but endure it. I laugh as I scrub my hair back from my forehead, and Garrett side-eyes me as though he thinks I might have lost my mind since it seems I’m laughing at nothing. At least not something I plan on sharing with him anyway.

Best money I’ve ever spent.

Surprisingly, watching the stripper rub up against her had turned me on. Despite my eyes stinging and my abs aching from laughing, I’d gotten aroused to the point of having to adjust the crotch of my jeans at the idea of taking the cowboy’s place. Of hooking my hands around her hips, having her close, maybe brushing my mouth along the soft skin behind her ear. She probably wouldn’t have enjoyed it. Thankfully, I’m never going to find out.

“I thought you might have met someone, had a bit of fun. You’ve barely been out since Queen B took off.” Garrett strolls down the length of the deck. It’s a multi-level deck that runs the length of the spacious house, so I follow him around to where the view beyond the lake is broken up by mountains that point into the sky like rough diamonds. “You can’t wait for her to hand you back your balls. You have to take them.”

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