Irresistible (Neighbor from Hell Book 11)

by R. L. Mathewson

  If she was going to make this work, and god, she really hoped this worked, she was going to need a cheaper apartment. She didn’t want to give up her two-bedroom apartment, but she didn’t really have a choice right now. Well, she did, but since she’d let Ben talk her into setting a deadline to get her company, that she was still trying to figure out a name for, up and running within the year, she had to do this. The only way that she was going to be able to do that was by saving enough money to make this happen and that meant cutting back on her expenses.

  She’d already canceled her cable, figured out a way to cut her cellphone bill in half, switched her car insurance, canceled all those memberships that she’d told herself that she would use one day and never had, Googled ways to cut her utility bills in half, set a budget and at some point she would start sticking to it, gave up those expensive creamy Frappuccinos with an extra shot of butterscotch and chocolate syrup that she liked so much, and fully planned on cooking more so that she wasn’t dependent on takeout. As much as she hated to do this, getting a smaller place would help her reach her goal faster. This apartment was three hundred dollars cheaper than the rest of the apartments that she was considering and would definitely help, but it didn’t look like that was going to-

  “I quit!” the small woman covered from head to toe in flour and green glitter said as she tightened her hold around the tan handbag covered in black magic marker and ran for it.

  “Shit!” Devin said, looking anxiously over his shoulder before glancing back at the small woman as she tripped over her feet and-

  Quickly picked herself back up as she threw a panicked look over her shoulder, released a terrified scream that kind of freaked Charlie out a bit, and kept going as Devin bit out, “Shit!” again. After one last look over his shoulder, he went after her. For a moment, Charlie simply stood there, watching as the small woman ran towards her car only to rethink that plan when she spotted Devin coming after her and took off down the street crying, “You can’t make me go back in there!” as she went.

  Wondering if she should expand her search to include rooms for rent, Charlie slipped the post-it note back in her pocket, turned around to head to her car only to turn right back around again and invited herself in when she heard a child say the magical words, “We’re gonna need matches.” Once she was inside the house that looked like it had been hit by a tornado, Charlie carefully made her way towards the sounds of cabinet doors shutting, stepping over toys, crayons and Legos as she went. When she opened the kitchen door, she fully understood the reason why the small woman ran screaming from the house.

  *-*-*-*

  “This isn’t fucking happening,” Devin said as he stood there, forced to watch as the woman that he hadn’t been able to convince to give this another chance tore out of his driveway, leaving a cloud of dust behind in her wake.

  What the hell was he going to do now?

  He was going to panic. That’s what he was going to do, Devin decided, as he walked back inside his house, pulling his phone out as he went and began scrolling through his contacts, trying to figure out how he was going to convince his mother to put off her vacation for another day so that-

  “What’s your favorite dinosaur?” he heard Dustin ask as he opened the kitchen door and found the small woman that he’d spent the last five years avoiding gently working her fingers through his son’s soapy hair only pausing long enough to add more shampoo before she continued.

  “That’s a tough one,” Charlie said with a thoughtful frown as Dustin, who never sat still, calmly sat in the large kitchen sink, waiting for her to answer him.

  “I’m going to put down T-Rex,” Abbi, his baby girl, said from where she sat on the counter, wrapped in her favorite Mickey Mouse towel with her wet hair neatly combed and a clipboard with one of the rental applications that he’d printed out for the in-law apartment on her lap.

  He’d been putting off renting out the in-law apartment for a while now, but with the kids getting older and Bradford Creations growing, Devin didn’t have much of a choice. He needed help, which was why he’d been hoping to rent the apartment to a college kid or a middle-aged woman in exchange for low rent and a few hours of babysitting a week. What he hadn’t expected was for her to show up.

  Devin didn’t know what it was about her, but since the day that she showed up for an interview wearing an Indiana Jones tee-shirt and the cutest fucking smile that he’d ever seen, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. Within the first thirty seconds of meeting her, he’d realized that hiring her would be a mistake. He’d planned on thanking her for coming in and tossing her resume in the trash as soon as she left only to find himself sending her a text, telling her that the job was hers before she made it to the front door.

  It had been a mistake, one that he’d been regretting for the past five years and it had nothing to do with her job. He wanted her. God, did he fucking want her. It didn’t matter how many times he reminded himself that he couldn’t have her, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. It was the reason why he’d turned the second-floor storage room into her office and avoided the breakroom when he knew that she was in there because he wasn’t supposed to want her.

  He’d made a promise to his children when they were born and he planned on keeping it. That meant avoiding the small woman that never should have caught his attention in the first place. She was nothing like the women that he used to date. She was a short, plump little thing with an unhealthy obsession with Harry Potter and the bluest fucking eyes that he’d ever seen.

  “That’s a good idea,” Charlie said with one of those warm smiles that he tried not to think about most days as she finished working the glitter out of Dustin’s hair and gestured for him to cover his eyes.

  “What’s the next question?” Dustin asked, obediently covering his eyes so that Charlie could rinse his hair.

  Frowning, Abbi glanced down at the application and said, “What’s your favorite ice cream?” making Devin smile.

  “Hmmm,” Charlie said, pursing her lips up in thought before adding, “that’s a tough one, but I think I’m gonna have to go with chocolate chip cookie dough.”

  “That’s Daddy’s favorite, too,” Abbi said, nodding solemnly as she scribbled something on the application with a green crayon.

  “Are the brownies done?” Dustin asked, reminding him of the reason that they were in this mess in the first place.

  “Almost,” Charlie said, glancing over at the oven as the scent of warm brownies caught his attention.

  “What about the muffins?” Abbi asked, making him frown.

  She’d made muffins?

  God, he fucking loved muffins.

  “Five more minutes,” Charlie said, making him realize how much time he’d wasted trying to convince the babysitter that hadn’t lasted the week to come back.

  “Are you going to take the apartment?” Dustin asked as Charlie picked up a facecloth and began working on removing the glittery-paste mess from behind his ears.

  “That’s up to your dad,” Charlie said, rinsing the facecloth as he stood there, thinking of all the reasons that this was a bad idea, but one look at his smiling children’s faces had him doing something that he already regretted.

  Coming May 2020…

  Excerpt from:

  Devastated: An Anger Management Novel

  “Oh, my god, please make it stop,” Kylie muttered with a tragic sigh as her cell phone continued to chime.

  She wanted to cry.

  She really did but crying would require energy that she didn’t have right now. Besides, she was going to need all her energy to drag herself out of bed and see what the horrible man wanted.

  Why did she have to sign those papers?

  Damn Big Daddy and his love of…

  Well, she wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been on when he’d burned the apartment building down, but whatever it was she cursed it for putting her in this situation. Even as she struggled to keep her eyes open long enough to
sit up on the bare mattress that she’d passed out on a few hours ago, she knew that the fault was hers and hers alone. She’d made a deal with the devil, literally, and now she was paying for it.

  Another chime, this one somehow more persistent than the last, had her whimpering pathetically as she reached for her phone. For a moment, she simply held the phone in her hand, praying that this nightmare would end, but the next chime destroyed her dreams and had her sitting up with a groan.

  Office in twenty minutes.

  Worrying her bottom lip, Kylie glanced from the text, demanding her presence back down to the bare mattress that she never wanted to leave. After a few seconds of indecision, she took a deep breath as she forced herself to climb off the bed and not look back as she made her way to the bathroom, terrified that if she caught even a glimpse of the pillow-top mattress that she would lose this battle.

  But God, did she want to lose, Kylie thought with something close to a whimper as she managed to drag herself the rest of the way to the bathroom. Once she was inside the large room that was twice the size of her last apartment, she made quick work of using the bathroom, doubling up on tasks whenever possible so that by the time that she stepped inside the large shower stall her teeth had been brushed, her hair combed, her vitamins taken, her nails had been quickly filed down to a smooth, efficient length, her clothes were laid out for her alongside a fresh planner, pen, and notebook to help her stay organized. All that was left was for her do was to step beneath the ice-cold spray of water and choke back a scream or two as the brisk water gave her the shot of adrenaline that she so desperately needed.

  Once she was wide awake and feeling energized, she finished her shower, fixed her hair, got dressed, placed her planner and aforementioned items in her messenger bag and headed for the door, ready to face the day with five minutes to spare. As Kylie hurried down the stairs, she contemplated making a quick trip to the kitchen and grabbing a yogurt and a breakfast bar to get her through this meeting, but something told her that he wouldn’t appreciate the delay.

  Hoping that he wouldn’t make a habit of holding meetings before the sun came up, she paused by the double doors leading into the large office that she’d spent three hours cleaning yesterday, closed her eyes and took a deep breath before pasting a smile on her face, opening her eyes and-

  “You’re late,” Mr. O’Mallery announced as he walked past her.

  Kylie considered pointing out that she still had two minutes left, but then she remembered what happened the last time that she’d corrected one of her bosses and decided to let this one slide. As she followed him into the large room, she resigned herself to the fact that she was most likely going to have to get used to biting her tongue a lot.

  At least, for the next year, Kylie thought as she sat down on the only available option to her, a metal folding chair that was placed directly in front of the only real piece of furniture in the room, a large desk. Hunter walked around the desk, glaring at her the entire way and sat down in a large leather chair that looked a great deal more comfortable than the one she was currently perched on.

  When she realized that he wasn’t going to do anything more than sit there and glare at her, she gave him what she hoped was a pleasant smile, clicked open her pen, and looked at him expectantly as she waited for his orders. He continued to keep her waiting until, with a sigh that could only be described as bored, he leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and gestured with a nod towards the planner on her lap as he asked, “What the hell is that?”

  Although Kylie didn’t think it was a good idea to take her eyes off him, mostly because of that whole anger management thing that he had going for him, she forced herself to follow his glare.

  “My planner?” Kylie asked, hoping that it was her beloved planner and not her presence responsible for that expression on his face, because she really wasn’t sure that she could beat him to the door. The reminder that she was working for a large, muscular man with an anger problem had her second-guessing her decision to stay.

  Anger. Management, Kylie reminded herself, trying for a bland, yet polite, expression as she waited to see how this was going to play out. When he didn’t jump over the desk and go for her throat, she took that as a win and waited for him to continue. When he just sat there, glaring at her, she tried for a small smile only to quickly bite it back when his eyes narrowed even further.

  For several long minutes, Hunter didn’t say anything. He just sat there, watching her, and making her wonder if they’d accept a personal check for that ten thousand dollars or if she should plan on making a quick run to the bank and get that in cash when he finally spoke.

  “I have thousands of employees, clients, vendors, and contacts that you will be responsible for. That means that you need to have their phone numbers, addresses, email addresses as well as access to their files. So, tell me something, Miss Jenkins, how exactly do you plan on doing all that with a ten-dollar planner from Wal-Mart?”

  “Carefully?” Kylie said before she could stop herself and she really wished that she’d been able to stop herself.

  *-*-*-*

  So, she was a smart ass, Hunter thought as he waited for her to stop staring down at the cheap planner on her lap. As he watched her, he couldn’t help but wonder if that planner was her pride and joy. When she lovingly caressed the imitation leather with her fingertips, he realized that this was the saddest fucking thing that he’d ever seen in his life.

  “Do you need a moment or can we get back to work?” Hunter asked when it looked like she was going to break out a sniffle and reminisce about better days.

  She cleared her throat and looked up. “What would you suggest, Mr. O’Mallery?” Kylie asked, slipping back into her minion role.

  “That you join the twenty-first century,” Hunter suggested as he held his hand out.

  When she only sat there, frowning at his hand, he wiggled his fingers in demand. “Your phone.”

  “It’s upstairs,” she answered with that same robotic smile that he was starting to find deeply disturbing.

  “What is it doing upstairs?” Hunter demanded even as he pushed away from his desk and headed towards the stairs.

  “I don’t use my phone while I’m working.”

  “That’s real fucking helpful,” Hunter said evenly as he took the stairs two at a time.

  “Mr. O’Mallery?” Kylie called hesitantly when he reached the landing.

  Since he never made a habit of explaining himself, he ignored her and headed towards her room. In three long strides, he was in her room and heading for the nightstand where he found-

  “What the hell is this?” he asked in confusion as he picked up what he prayed was a joke and looked it over.

  “My phone,” Kylie said, sounding embarrassed as she should be.

  “It’s a flip phone,” Hunter said, turning the ancient relic over in his hands as he tried to make sense out of what he was seeing.

  Could this thing even send texts? he wondered as he flipped the cellphone open to find a tiny screen. This thing had to be fifteen years old, he thought absently, as he started hitting buttons, curious to see what it could do. In a few seconds, he discovered that it wasn’t much. It could make calls, text, receive emails, and surf the web…sort of.

  “Could I have my phone back, please?”

  “No,” Hunter said, fascinated that anyone in this day and age could get by with a phone like this.

  As he searched through her phone, making note that there were only three contacts, a small collection of emails and even fewer texts, he couldn’t help but wonder how much memory something like this had. His calculator probably had more memory than this thing, which would explain why she didn’t have much on it. Then again, he amended a few seconds later, maybe there was a reason for that.

  “Is this your personal phone?” Hunter asked, because he liked to have his suspicions confirmed.

  “It’s my only phone,” Kylie said calmly, but he detected a slight he
sitation in her voice, one that was very telling.

  Hunter glanced up from her phone to take in the cheap skirt suit that she wore, noting that while it was obviously clean, it didn’t fit her. He quickly took in the rest of her belongings, two small bags that she’d probably picked up at a thrift store, neatly placed by the door. He didn’t have to look in the bathroom to know that she probably only had the basics, hairbrush, nail clippers, toothpaste, etc.

  In a few minutes, he knew everything that he needed to know about the small woman who was sharing his sentence with him. She was a neat, no-nonsense kind of woman, and most importantly, she was desperate. She wasn’t going to cause him any problems, but just to make sure…

  Hunter looked down at her phone again, noting that the only contacts were the D.A.’s office that hired her on his behalf, a number for a pizza place, and her old landlord. There were no emergency contacts or anyone listed as “Mom.” That made him curious.

  “Are you an orphan?” he asked, moving onto her emails.

  “No,” Kylie answered after a slight hesitation.

  This was even more depressing than her contact list. Having seen more than enough, he closed the phone and tossed it on the bed. When he looked back down at the cute little thing doing her best not to look embarrassed, he realized something very important.

  She needed him a hell of a lot more than he needed her.

  Available Now

  A Sneak Peek at

  Tall, Dark & Furious

  A Pyte/Sentinel Novel

  Prologue

  Massachusetts Bay Colony - Maine Territory

  1665

  “Where are you going, Trace?”

  Trying not to panic, Trace shut the door before any sunlight could spill inside the small one-room cottage. Licking his suddenly dry lips, he turned around and held up the small leather-bound book his father gave him this morning after his trip into town.

  “I was hoping to go down to the river to read, Father,” Trace said, forcing a smile that he hoped would convince his father that everything was fine.