Page 51 of Where Love Lies

“Hi, I’m Rain, Paige’s mom.” Smiling, I look to my daughter and then back to her.

“Oh, hello!” Her face brightens, a smile that hits her eyes. She goes quiet, which I find slightly awkward. I can tell she’s not used to talking to people or entertaining guests.

“Paige said something about a BBQ?” I press for her to talk to me.

“Oh yes, we would love to have her!” She nods, crossing her arms, not saying anything else.

“Just make sure to keep an eye on her, she can be trouble sometimes.” I laugh, trying to imply I’m joking, but I’m not.

“If she’s anything like our Layla, I bet, but she’ll be in good hands.” She tucks a stray hair from her face behind her ear, and shifts her weight onto her left leg, clearing a space for me to see into the house. It’s a mess with toys, juice boxes and furniture covered in kid blankets.

“Perfect,” I reply. Hopefully my threat to Paige will keep her ass in check, because I’m not sure Melanie can handle her rogue moments.

“Come dear, the twins are almost up from their nap.” She waves Paige inside, and I get the feeling she’s ready to end this conversation. This is way more socializing than she’s used to if Tenly is right about Melanie never leaving her house.

“Alright, have fun!”

* * *

Going back home, I rub the sleep from my eyes, remembering I haven’t had my coffee yet. Inside, I find Heston standing in the kitchen. I thought he was long gone for work; I didn’t even notice his truck.

“Are we really going to let her go over there?” he asks, without looking up. Something bitter inside me wants to say, “We? You mean, am I? She’s my daughter,” but I don’t.

“I know it’s probably not the smartest thing, but she’ll be with Layla’s parents, how much trouble can they get in?” I’m just trying to pick my battles with her at this point. All the fighting and anger is exhausting.

“Has Cam followed up with his detective work to figure out who I am?” The sarcasm is clear in his voice.

“Not today,” I mutter. “Last I heard, he was talking to one of his cop buddies about looking you up.” Cam is serious about finding skeletons in Heston’s closet, but luckily, he’s found none so far.

“The man’s insane,” he casually implies, not seeming affected by the fact Cam is trying to tear him apart any way he can. Speaking of insane.

“How’s it going looking for a therapist?”

“I gotta go show a house, be home for dinner,” he says, ignoring my question and pouring out the rest of his coffee. I can’t help the sigh that leaves my body. I really wanted to talk about our relationship today, but of course, he’s leaving. It’s like he knows what I’m going to say and is avoiding it as much as he can. He doesn’t stop to tell me he loves me or give me a kiss on his way out the door. We’re practically roommates at this point. My phone dings in my hand, with a text from Owen.

Owen: Met the new neighbor. Tenly beat us there, of course. He is BIG, girl. I haven’t seen anything like him around here.

Biting my bottom lip, I can’t help the longing inside me, whispering for me to go see what the big deal is with this guy. I know Heston would get jealous if he found out; he doesn’t seem to have a high regard for the man. But he’s not home, and I could use some fresh conversation. I never got to invite someone to a neighborhood before, and I’d like to do just that. I’m also curious why he’s living in a place known as the Murder House. Where’s his family? What’s his name? He’s just not the type of person you’d expect to see in such a place. He definitely stands out in this picture-perfect suburbs. But what should I bring him, everyone brings something when someone moves in.

Texting Owen, I ask what he brought.

Owen:A plant. We were out of wine.

With a smile on my face, I put my phone back down and turn around to look through the cabinets. A fluttery feeling in my stomach just thinking about going over there. A feeling in my heart, telling me not to go over there, but my head is telling me something else. I’m riding on impulse and tingles, which often means this is risky or not the right thing to do, but somewhere inside of me I just don’t care.

Chewing on my inner cheek, I search through the kitchen for something nice to give him. I’m definitely not cooking, so I need to see what else I have around here. Surfing through another shelf, I find a mason jar with a yellow ribbon tied around the top: a jar of honey. I got it at the farmers’ market last week, from a local farm. A chunk of comb swims in a thick golden nectar, and just looking at it makes my mouth water.

Settled on what to bring, I go in search for something to wear. I don’t want to show up in my robe. I mean, I’m not going to dress up or anything, just something casual because I’m just being a nosey and welcoming neighbor, nothing more.

I change into jean shorts, a maroon blouse, and my brown slip sandals to complete the outfit. My head fantasies about what could happen when I show up at his door with a jar of honey. Closing my eyes, I will myself to calm down. I don’t understand why I’m so caught up in this guy, pulled to him like a demon is to the devil. Shaking my head of the thought, I grab the jar of honey and head out.

Walking across the street, I feel eyes on me, my neighbors watching and probably wondering why Heston isn’t with me. I haven’t told anyone about our troubles, so with my head down, I take a deep breath and trudge forward. To my surprise, he’s not inside. He’s crouched down on a blue milk crate working on his bike. His hair is pulled back and anyone would take notice of his shirtless chest, allowing him to display an array of tattoos all over his upper body. He’s extremely attractive already but something about the board shorts and brown sandals he has on makes him that much sweeter. I catch him sneak a glimpse of me, but then act as if he doesn’t see me coming.

“Hi.” I smile as I approach him. He turns his head away from his bike and looks me up and down, his mouth tipping into a smirk. Wow, his skin is a beautiful golden, peachy brown, like a native American. His dark and silky hair looks much healthier than mine.

He stands, the little bit of hair under his belly button catching my attention.

“Um…honey…” I fumble over my words then let out a nervous laugh, my cheeks heating. “I mean, I brought you honey.” I hold out the jar toward him.

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