Page 26 of The Chad Next Door
“He can’t be this good, can he?” I ask Duke as I scratch his ears, though all of my words are muffled because I’m still chewing the donut.
He does that little huffing sound, like a mostly noiseless bark that feels like he’s trying so hard to talk to me. I swear, there’s something way too perfect about this dog, just like his owner is way too perfect to be real.
Just like thishouseis perfect, a mix of modern and rustic, with all the bells and whistles but still with a very homey, lived-in feel. Everything is bright and open and warm, with several bedrooms fully furnished and waiting for occupants. I know they’re probably for his siblings, though I can’t really picture someone like baseball star Houston Briggs spending a lot of time in a little house like this. But at the same time, everything about this house feels…ready. Like Chad is just waiting for a family to fill it.
I shiver at the thought right as the front door flies open with a flurry of snow and two silhouettes hurrying inside.
I may not be able to see their faces because they’re so wrapped up, but I know the big one is Chad. Without thinking, I rush toward him and jump into his arms. He grunts on impact but wraps his arms around me anyway, holding me tight as he heaves for air.
“I was worried,” I murmur.
Somehow, he manages to hold me even tighter. “Sorry for scaring you,” he says, though it sounds like he can barely get the words out. He’s shaking as he holds me; he must be freezing!
“The truck slid into a snowbank,” the other man says brightly, like it’s the greatest thing in the world to get trapped out in a blizzard. “We tried to dig it out, but we gave up and walked the rest of the way. Good thing Briggs here had snowshoes in the back of his truck.”
“Always prepared,” I say with admiration. Seriously, who could ever think poorly of this man who goes around rescuing hopeless women and solitary men? “Are you cold?”
A shudder runs through Chad, but he says, “Not anymore.”
“I’ll make you some tea.” I reluctantly slide back to the floor, even though my brain has started getting wild ideas about opening his coat and climbing inside with him still in it. Oh mama, that sounds so nice. “And you should take a shower while we still have power.”
He pulls off his hat and the scarf that was obstructing his face, giving me a strange look as I slowly back into the kitchen. “Are you telling me what to do, Hope?” It’s like he’s never had anyone do that before, and he can’t decide what to make of it.
I grin. “Maybe I am. But if you don’t want to get warm, you don’t have—”
He growls a little and disappears down the hall, shedding his winter gear as he goes.
The other guy chuckles as he politely hangs his coat on the hooks near the door. He doesn’t look nearly as frozen as Chad did, which doesn’t make a whole lot of sense because he’s a lot smaller. In fact, he’s wearing several layers, each of which takes away from his bulk as he unloads and leaves himself in just pajama pants and a sweatshirt.
“Hi, I’m Hank,” he says when he catches me staring at him. “You must be the frustrating neighbor, Hope.”
I frown. “He thinks I’m frustrating?” That shouldn’t surprise me, but I don’t like that someone else knows it too. Am I so frustrating that that’s all I’ll ever be?
Grinning, Hank joins me in the kitchen and helps me fill the kettle with water, since I haven’t gotten that far yet. “Yeah, but I think for him that’s a good thing. He’s incredibly…stubborn. He wouldn’t let me help dig the truck out. He literally locked me in the truck with the heater on while he tried to get it free.”
Snorting a laugh, I search all the cupboards for the tea because I’ve forgotten where I saw it when I did my initial snooping as soon as Chad left. Finding it in the cupboard by the fridge, I pull it out and settle on a stool to wait for the water to boil. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”
“Have you known him long?”
“A couple of weeks.” Even though I spent most of last week avoiding him. (AKA growing more and more attracted to him from a distance.)
My answer seems to amuse Hank as he glances toward the hall where Chad disappeared. I know he’s somewhere in his thirties thanks to June, but beyond that, I don’t really know anything about Hank. He lives alone, obviously, but he seems too friendly and kind to be living a hermit lifestyle. Chad, with all his gruff surliness, makes sense, but Hank does not.
“What about you?” I ask, though really I want to order him to tell me everything about himself. I don’t think my orders would have the same effect as Chad’s, but I did manage to get Chad to go shower.
We’re not going to talk about how he would have showered even if I hadn’t told him to.
Hank grins, adjusting his glasses as he sits beside me. “I met him last year, when he bought the house.”
“But he just moved in?” I’m trying to make sense of the mystery that is Chad Briggs, but this is only making things more muddled.
“There was some remodeling happening,” Hank says with a shrug. “I watched the trucks and contractors drive past the house for a while. I’m guessing he bought it to be a sort of summer home, though. He’s got a house in Sun City as well.”
The man has two houses? “Is he super rich or something? What does he even do for work?”
“No idea.”
“Hmm.”
