Page 6 of The Good Guy on My Porch

CHAPTER TWO

Oscar

I saw Dilly before she saw me. She said hello to people she passed and waved at neighbors out on porches, her smile friendly and warm. She had a bag over her shoulder and was carrying a box. When no one was looking, her smile vanished and her steps slowed, like she carried something heavier than what I could see. She was dressed casually in skinny jeans and a brightly-colored, over-sized t-shirt, like her clothes could make the rainbow she needed in her day.

When she turned onto the short walkway to the duplex and her big, brown eyes lit on me, her small mouth spread into a heartbreaking smile. My breath caught, my heart stuttered, and there was no way on earth I’d do anything other than smile back at her from my seat on the front porch. I smiled, even though she didn’t remember my name, even though she was probably just smiling to be polite, even though I should probably have my guard up around her. I’d liked Dilly since I’d met her, when she’d bounced into the restaurant where I was having lunch with Aubrey, Carrie by her side. She’d cuddled Aubrey’s little girl, spreading love around like she had more than enough to give. She’d glowed with life and energy and light, and I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since, hadn’t been able to look at anyone else when she was around. It bugged me, because I was generally a rational, logical guy, but I couldn’t use logic on my feelings for Dilly, they were beyond my control. And I was incapable of acting on them, because she hadn’t been single for longer than a minute since we’d met. That and she’d never seemed to notice me at all.

She walked up the steps and sat next to me, like she belonged in my space, like she’d never question that I’d want her to sit next to me. A faint citrusy scent that was probably her shampoo wafted my way. If I had to guess, I’d say Dilly didn’t wear perfume. “I need to apologize,” she said.

“It’s fine.” It was more than fine. “I really didn’t want the muffin as much as you did.”

She sighed and scrunched up her nose, glancing at the sidewalk before she looked back at me and smiled again. And again the expression, the small upturn of her mouth, took my breath away. “Yeah, I really did want that muffin, but I’m also sorry that I unloaded on you about my morning and that I got your name wrong, Oscar.”

I almost wished she hadn’t figured out my name, because the sound of my actual name in her sweet, slightly breathy voice almost hurt it felt so good. I swallowed hard. I was going insane. Over a woman. “It’s fine. We’ve only met once or twice and you got—”

She held up a hand, her smile slipping. “There’s more. I’m also sorry that my ex-boyfriend called the cops on you.”

All my anger and annoyance from that morning came flooding back. I’d wanted so badly to punch that smug idiot in the mouth when he’d been spouting off a bunch of entitled nonsense, but then the cops had showed up and I decided an assault charge wouldn’t help anything. I couldn’t believe Dilly would date a douche bag like that. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing she hadn’t shown any interest in me if those were the kind of jerks she went for.

“Anyway,” she said, oblivious to my inner monologue. “I’m really sorry. I brought you a dozen bran muffins to make up for it. They’re still warm.”

I just stared, my chest tightening, my stomach dropping. “Wait. You’re my new neighbor?” It was a relief not to be living next to that asswipe, Abram, but if Dilly lived next to me…I didn’t have a lot of rules about dating, but even I knew it was a terrible idea to get involved with your neighbor. It may have worked out for Aubrey’s brother-in-law, Cody, and his wife Carrie, but that was a one-in-a-million chance.

She shoved the muffins at me and I took them. “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to move, but I promise Abram will never be over here again. I’m a good neighbor. I won’t cause you any more problems and I’ll never call the cops on you, even if you’re having a rave at your place at two in the morning.”

She looked so sincere and so darn sexy, with her eyes wide, her lips pursed, her hair pushed over one shoulder, exposing her delicate neck. I wanted to pull her into my arms and press my cheek to the smooth skin of her neck, just to find out soft it was, how good she smelled. I shoved a muffin in my mouth before I said or did something that would make our neighborly relationship awkward. “It’s not your fault,” I said, once I’d finished inhaling the muffin. “You probably didn’t even know what he was doing.”

She sighed, relief written on every line of her small face. She was so damn tiny, and yet nothing about her seemed frail or weak. In fact, I was pretty sure she could kill me just by continuing to sit next to me and smiling at me that way. “Nope. I was inside looking at his phone. The one with a naked picture from his wife.”

“You were searching his phone?”

She grimaced. “The text flashed across his screen, and I just happened to see it. Once I’d seen it, though, yeah, I searched his phone.”

“Understandable.” I grabbed another muffin. I hadn’t had dinner, yet, and the muffins were damn good warm.

She stared straight ahead, her posture stiff. “Are you waiting for someone?” she finally asked.

The question caught me off guard. “What?”

“I thought you might be sitting out here on the porch because you’re waiting for someone.”

“It’s a nice night,” I said. “And the view here is amazing. I figured I’d watch the sun set over the mountains.” Across the street were houses similar to ours and behind them was an uninterrupted view of the mountains beyond.

She bounced a little and laughed, a big roar of a laugh that seemed too large for her body. “I sit out here to watch the sunset every night. I’ve never met anyone else who cares about sunsets. We must be soul mates.”

Soul mates. I’d believed in soul mates once, had thought I was engaged to my soul mate, but she’d only seen me as a pay check and a status symbol. I didn’t believe in soul mates anymore, but I liked the idea of being Dilly’s. “I’d love the company.”

We sat together on the porch in silence, not moving, and watched the sun set. It was a glorious, spring-time sunset, all pinks and purples and smoky hazes. Once it had slipped behind the mountains and out of sight, Dilly dropped her head and mumbled something I couldn’t make out. When she looked up, her eyes were damp, but she was smiling. “That,” she said. “That is my favorite part of every day and the reason I’ll never leave Catalpa Creek.”

“Never?” I was beyond curious about this woman I barely knew. This woman I felt I’d just shared an intimate moment with.

Her smile was tinged with sadness. “I’d never find anywhere as beautiful. I just…This is where my soul belongs, you know? Have you ever felt that way about a place?”

“This place,” I said, all honesty. “I visited it while I was in college and I just knew…It was the first place that felt like home to me, the first place I truly felt I belonged.” She touched a finger to her tiny nose and nodded. “Plus, I love all the outdoorsy stuff I can get into. You must be a pro at just about everything since you grew up here.”

She crinkled her brow. “Not even a little bit. I like to look at all the pretty from a distance. Up close there are bugs and thorns and sweat.”

Her words surprised me so much I laughed. “Sweat?”

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