Page 1 of Neighbor DADDY

1

KELLY

Moving out of student housing and into my own place scares the hell out of me if I'm being honest. I don't mind telling myself a little white lie here and there, but there's no way I'm going to be able to make myself believe I'm not nervous in my giant new Colonial.

I've second-guessed myself at least a hundred times, if not more. Should I have moved back in with my mom until I got on my feet a little more? Should I have just rented an apartment and saved buying a house for when I actually know what I'm doing with my life?

I should probably stop thinking about it. It's already done. The house is paid for. It's mine. The moving van has been sitting in the driveway all morning, and my stuff has been unloaded. I've accepted a job as a kindergarten teacher at the local school, and the pathway for my adult life is well and truly set.

So why doesn't it seem real?

With a sigh, I put my hands on my hips and look up at the house. It's the kind of home you see on postcards, the ones that say, “Wish you were here.” It's beautiful, with a wraparound porch, a large yard forme to start a garden, and three bedrooms for guests to stay over. Or at least, it will look like that with a little TLC. I already knew I'd bought a fixer-upper, and that the inside would need a little love.

I'm looking forward to it. The process of making the house a home is something I find exciting and thrilling. The thought of taking something old and broken and turning it into something functional, beautiful, and comfortable is a great feeling. I've already gone shopping for decorations, and the first few bags and boxes of things have been dropped off, along with my mattress and bookshelves.

It's one of the first days of summer here in Covington, Georgia, but the heat is making it feel like we're smack dab in the middle of the season. Luckily, my big yellow house has central air, but that doesn't help me when I have to keep unloading the moving van. I wipe my sweat off my brow and get back to it, knowing I'm the only one who can get the job done.

You want to be independent, Kelly? Well, here you go!

It's about an hour later, and I've made it down to the heaviest boxes. I really tried to pack light, but things like dishes and my trusty air fryer, which had gotten me through college, were just plain heavy. I'm already exhausted but filled with a sense of accomplishment at the same time, and it makes me bite off a little more than I can chew. I grab the cardboard box full of dishes, take a few steps backward down the ramp, and stumble.

The ramp isn't too high up, and while my initial reaction is terror about getting hurt, my second thought is how I'm going to have to buy an entire new set of dishes after just receiving these as a housewarming gift from my cousin.

Before I can hit the ground, two strong hands steady me, grabbing me around my waist and planting me back on my feet so I don't hit the concrete. Then the box is plucked effortlessly from my hands, and I turn to look at my savior.

I've met a few of the neighbors, but the person in the house directly to my left has been away on business, according to Mrs. Blevins a few doors down. She told me that Cam, the only occupant of the house, usually kept to himself, and he was a veteran who now worked in civilian aircraft mechanics. I hadn't seen even a glimpse of him until now.

And wow, he's certainly a sight to see. As soon as my eyes meet his, something sparks between us, intense and instantaneous. I gasp, drawn to him so powerfully it makes my knees wobble.

He has broad shoulders and long legs, with a slim waist. His chest is muscular and wide, and he's wearing a plain gray shirt and jeans. He's also got dark hair that's just a little long, with the shadow of a beard on his square jaw. There's a hint of gray at his temples and in his beard, and a seriousness to his hazel eyes, even though he's currently grinning down at me.

"Looks like I showed up just in time."

I'm speechless. My heart is racing from both the shock of almost falling and the sudden appearance of this man, but I find my tongue long enough to squeak, "Yeah."

"You okay?" he asks. His voice is deep and raspy, and it makes my stomach flutter.

"Yep, totally fine."

He puts the box on the grass and gives me a look over. "You sure? You might have twisted an ankle or something."

"No, really, I'm fine. Thank you. I appreciate it."

"Sure. Hey, you want some help? Looks like you've got a lot to do. I've got nothing going on today, so if you need someone to unload stuff and move some furniture, I'm happy to do it." He holds out his hand to me, and it takes a minute for me to process that he wants to shakehands. His palm dwarfs mine when I finally accept it, and his skin is warm. "I'm Cam Shelton, by the way."

"Kelly Davidson." I clear my throat, feeling like a complete and total dork.

He smiles, and that just makes him even more handsome. He's got a smile that crinkles his eyes and softens the harshness of his face, and I can't help but smile back at him. "Welcome to the neighborhood. Now, let's get the rest of this stuff unloaded, and then you can get settled."

There's something about his Southern drawl and his immediate offer to help that leaves me reeling. Accepting help from a stranger, no matter how tall, dark, and handsome he is, should be a big no-no for a 21-year-old girl living on her own for the first time, but before I can tell him I don't need any help, he's carrying two boxes up the porch steps and inside.

I have to swallow, my mouth suddenly dry at the sight of his butt flexing in his jeans as he ascends the stairs. Something clenches low in my belly, and I feel a dampness between my legs that is totally new. I know I'm already flushed from heat and exertion, but if I weren't, just seeing Cam would be enough to turn me beet red.

This isn't normal, right? To have these feelings just from meeting a guy for the first time?

Maybe, maybe not. I don't have much experience with men. My last boyfriend was during high school, and we were together for less than a month. There was some kissing, but nothing else. Since then, I've just been too busy with college and work and everything else to even consider dating.

My only experience with men in college was a negative one. I somehow gained a stalker, a man named Frank, who was a teacher's assistant in one of my classes, and he freaked me out enough to put me off dating forever.

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