The Boy Next Door: A Standalone Small Town Romance (Soulmates Series Book 3)

by Hazel Kelly

“I thought you’d be better off without me.”

  I tilted an ear towards her. “What?”

  “That day in the park all those years ago.”

  I swallowed.

  “I thought you’d be better off without me.”

  I furrowed my brow. “Why are you telling me this now?”

  “Because I should’ve explained myself a long time ago,” she said. “I just didn’t know how to.”

  “You don’t have to say anything.”

  “Yes I do,” she said, standing still while a strange bulldog sniffed her painted toes.

  “Well, I don’t know why you thought that.”

  “Because,” she said. “I was young and scared shitless and I felt unworthy of your love.”

  “But it was so sudden. You never felt unworthy before.”

  “Yes I did.”

  I clenched my jaw.

  “I just didn’t have the strength to admit it to you. Or me.”

  “Why would you think I’d be better off without you? We were so good together.”

  “I thought I’d hold you back,” she said, her eyes following Sarge. “I thought you were destined for bigger and better things and that you’d go to California and feel like you made a horrible mistake.”

  I searched her blue eyes.

  “And I’d turn into some kind of security blanket you were embarrassed about and didn’t want to sleep with any more and-”

  “As if I’d ever not want to sleep with you.”

  She craned her neck forward. “You know what I mean.”

  “I don’t,” I said. “But I appreciate you being honest with me.”

  “Good. Because it kind of hurts to admit that I was scared shitless and insecure.”

  “I forgive you.”

  “Genuinely?” she asked. “Like you don’t even have one tiny little shred of resentment?”

  “No.” I took a sip of my blue slushee. “Don’t get me wrong, I was heartbroken. But I was also grateful for every day we had together, and I wasn’t about to poison those memories by holding a grudge.”

  “You’re a better person than I am.”

  “Not better. Just more mature.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?!”

  “I’m joking,” I said, a sly smile escaping as I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye.

  “It would be immature of me to argue with you about that so I’m not going to,” she said. “But that’s the only reason.”

  I laughed. “As long as you have your reasons.”

  She shook her hair back behind her shoulders.

  I took a deep breath. “Can I ask you just one question?”

  She nodded.

  “Do you feel differently now?”

  Her eyes smiled. “I do.”

  “So you’re over all that bull?”

  She tilted her head. “You mean do I still feel unworthy and scared shitless and like I’m holding you back?”

  I nodded.

  “No,” she said.

  “I’m glad,” I said. “Because I’d really hate to have to drop my slushee and sing ‘Wind Beneath my Wings’ in front of all these people just to convince you of your worthiness.”

  “I don’t know who would die of embarrassment first if you did that.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “What if I went with ‘When a Man Loves a Woman’?”

  “I would still drop dead right here in the dog park.”

  “Can this be one of those times when it’s the thought that counts?”

  “Yes,” she said, putting her hand on my shoulder. “It can definitely be one of those times.”

  “Cool. As long as I get the points.”

  “You can have all the points,” she said. “Just don’t sing to me in front of everyone with those blue lips.”

  I licked them. “Oh shit are they that blue?”

  “Like a baboon’s butt.”

  I pursed my lips and rubbed my tongue across them as hard as I could.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I probably look like I’m bleeding from the mouth.”

  “You don’t,” I said. “You’re lips look puffy and pink and kissable as ever.”

  She smiled. “I have been careful.”

  “Damnit.”

  “Howdy, folks,” Dave said, appearing on the other side of Laney.

  “Hi,” I said.

  “I just wanted to congratulate you two on making this awesome party happen. The kids have had the best day, and I even won a free hot shave,” he said, raising a coupon in the air.

  “No problem,” I said, wishing Laney had never seen that text and that the air between us hadn’t gone so tense.

  “Dave,” Laney said, turning towards him. “I think we need to clear the air. Maybe start over?”

  “Excuse me?” he asked, looking nervously back and forth between us.

  “It’s come to my attention that you have some concerns about whether or not Connor can trust me,” she said.

  Dave shot me a look.

  “And I think you have every right to feel that way,” Laney continued.

  He furrowed his brow. “You do?”

  “Of course,” she said. “I know you have his best interests at heart and that you’d never deliberately try to make trouble for him.”

  He shook his head. “No. Of course not.”

  “And I just want to assure you that I’m doing everything I can to earn his trust again.”

  I swallowed.

  “But.” She set a hand on his shoulder. “I also want to know what it would take to earn your trust again because the last thing I want is to come between you guys when you were friends a long time before I showed up.”

  I couldn’t believe she was calling him out like this. The poor guy was never good with confrontation. If I didn’t know him so well, I would’ve been laughing at how visibly uncomfortable he was.

  “Don’t put your tail between your legs in the dog park, Dave,” I said, beaming with pride at my little firecracker. “Answer the woman.”

  Chapter 39: Laney

  It felt great to know Connor had my back, but the last thing I wanted was for Dave to be uncomfortable.

  Scratch that- the last thing I wanted was for him to ever talk shit again- but his being uncomfortable came right after that.

  “I’m sorry, Laney,” he said. “It was never within my rights to second guess him.”

  “Sure it was,” I said. “That’s what any good friend would’ve done.”

  “But I could’ve been more supportive,” he said, moving the balloon animal he was holding behind his back. “I see that now.”

  “Seriously, Dave. What can I do to earn your trust again?” I asked. “What can I do to make you believe that I’m happy here and that Connor doesn’t need to worry about me doing a runner again?”

  Connor flinched.

  “Nothing,” he said. “I was out of line. I said those things in confidence.” He shot Connor another look. “Not to make you uncomfortable.”

  “That’s not an answer,” I said, eager to make a deal, shake on it, and call this little misunderstanding- albeit deserved- water under the bridge.

  He shook his head. “My wife and kids are already crazy about you, Laney. That’s more than enough for me.”

  “Well it’s not enough for me, and it’s you I need to impress,” I said. “So pick something. Anything.”

  He looked at Connor and received an encouraging nod before biting the inside of his cheek. “I guess I could use some help painting the treehouse I just put in.”

  “Perfect.”

  Connor raised his eyebrows. “You caved?”

  “Sometimes it’s easier to just give in to women,” Dave said, patting him on the arm. “Trust me.”

  “When do you want to do this olive branch treehouse painting?” I asked, sipping my slushee.

  “How about next weekend?” he asked.

  “Perfect,” I said. “I’ll look forward to it.”

&nb
sp; Connor pulled his phone out and slid his thumb over the screen.

  “Thanks, Laney,” Dave said. “And I apologize again for overstepping-”

  “Don’t worry about it. It’s in the past,” I said, extending my hand. “I’ll forgive yours if you can forgive mine.”

  He took my hand and pulled me into a hug, patting my back with the balloon animal. “Deal.”

  When we stepped back again, Connor was staring wide eyed at his phone.

  “What is it?” I asked, resting my free hand on his shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

  “It’s my patent.”

  Dave and I craned our necks forward.

  “It’s been granted.”

  “Holy shit!” I said, jumping in the air and then covering my mouth when I saw the faces of the horrified mothers around me. “Are you serious?!”

  “I’m as serious as handicapped dogs walking again,” he said, handing me the phone.

  Sure enough, there was an email from his lawyer that was filled with lawyer speak but clearly contained the words “your patent has been approved and granted.”

  “What does this mean?” I asked.

  He shook his head, still obviously stunned. “It means thousands of injured animals all over the country are finally going to get the treatment they deserve.”

  I laughed. “I understand the bottle stopper thingy, but what does it mean for you?”

  “Money,” Dave said. “Lots and lots of money.”

  Connor ran his free hand through his thick blond hair and exhaled.

  “Looks like we’ll be serving champagne at the treehouse painting party,” Dave said.

  Connor raised a palm. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Of course I do,” he said. “This is the best thing you’ve done since you put a crab in Miss Martine’s desk.”

  The corner of my mouth curled up. “I can’t believe you used to be such a bad boy.”

  “I can still be a very bad boy,” Connor said, flashing his eyebrows and sliding a hand around my waist.

  “That’s my cue to leave,” Dave said. “I’ll see you guys next Saturday.”

  We smiled and nodded, turning towards each other as he walked off.

  “I’m so proud of you,” I said, laying a hand on Connor’s cheek.

  “I’m kinda proud of me, too,” he said.

  “You should be.”

  “It’s a weird feeling, though,” he said.

  I furrowed my brow. “What is?”

  “Wanting something so bad for so long and then getting it all of a sudden.”

  “I know.”

  “Yeah?” he asked.

  I nodded and fixed my eyes on his. “I have to deal with that feeling every day.”

  He smiled. “I didn’t think this day could get any better.”

  “I did.”

  “You did?”

  “Of course,” I said. “Anything can happen when I’m with you.”

  He kissed me, and I felt one foot rise out of the grass.

  “Excuse me,” a frail voice said.

  I opened my eyes and unhooked my lips from Connor’s. “Can we help you?” I asked, turning towards the little old lady. She was wearing a purple sundress and a pair of glitter covered Keds.

  “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she said. “But it was either that or join in.”

  I suppressed a smile.

  “Are you the woman that painted the mural?” she asked.

  “I am.”

  “Well-” She extended a card in my direction. “I’m an artist, too.”

  “I see that,” I said, admiring the card which had Gwendolyn Brooks written on one side and the image of a Monet-esque oil painting on the back.

  “I don’t know if you’ve heard of me-”

  I glanced at Connor.

  “But I’m the artist in this town.”

  “Okay,” I said, raising my eyebrows.

  She shook her head. “And this town isn’t big enough for two artists.”

  I tilted an ear towards her.

  “Fortunately for you, dear, I’m riddled with arthritis.” She raised her hands as if I might be able to see it everywhere.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Don’t be.” She waved her hands at me and dropped them again. “They had a good run.”

  I sipped my slushee until a big slurp echoed through the striped cup.

  “Anyway,” she continued. “I was hoping you could help me out.”

  I pursed my lips. “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “I’m the one that paints the windows in this town,” she said. “Every season I use special paints, and I decorate the bank and the post office and the elementary school and the record shop and the bakery and, well, you get the idea.”

  “I do.”

  “And then I scrape all the paint off and do it again when the next season rolls around.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Wow.”

  “I do special holiday gigs, too.”

  I prayed that she would get to the point.

  “To make a long story short, I can’t keep up with it anymore.”

  I tucked some hair behind my ear. “It does sound like a lot of work.”

  “Basically, I was wondering if I could give my clients your number,” she said. “Because even though it saddens me that I can’t go on, it would kill me more to think no one would bother to keep painting the windows.”

  I craned my neck back. “You want me to do it?”

  She nodded. “The businesses will pay you, of course.”

  “Right.”

  “Except for Juno at the bakery,” she said. “But you’ll never need to buy bread again.”

  “Why me?”

  She shrugged. “Because I asked around, and everyone said if anyone could do it, you could.”

  I felt a lump in my throat. “Really?”

  “No,” she said. “This is my idea of a hilarious joke. I’m actually a professional tap dancer.”

  “Right,” I said. “Got it.”

  “What do you say?” she asked.

  “Thank you so much,” I said, throwing my arms around the woman before gently hugging her delicate frame.

  “You’re welcome dear.” She patted me on the back.

  I gave her space again.

  She raised a finger at me. “Your good hugs won’t be enough, though,” she said. “You’re going to have to paint your ass off.”

  My eyes grew wide.

  “The people of Glastonbury have very high expectations because of the standards I’ve set.”

  “I won’t let you down,” I said, slipping the card in my pocket.

  She nodded at Connor and then me again. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

  “Whoa,” he said after she walked away.

  “Whoa is right.”

  “It thought she was going to draw a pistol for a second there when she was all ‘this town isn’t big enough for the both of us.’”

  “Me too.”

  “Well that’s lucky.”

  I searched his eyes. “Did you know that was going to happen?” I asked. “Have you been going around behind my back and asking people to say nice things about me?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “That was all you.”

  Chapter 40: Connor

  Laney had dragged one of sun loungers off the patio into the yard and had been sketching away wildly for hours.

  It was approaching dusk and bright colors were starting to rise in the sky over the tall trees in front of her, and Sarge was still lying under her chair, his paws moving occasionally when he fell into a puppy dream.

  Meanwhile, Neo was sprawled out next to Laney’s feet, his little grey head resting on his arm as he basked in the fragrant summer air.

  I watched the scene from the window as I opened a chilled bottle of Laney’s favorite white wine and wondered what I did to get so lucky.

  A year ago I moved into this big house all by myself, and at the time, i
t felt empty apart from my childhood memories.

  Sarge took the edge off, of course, bringing noise and laughter back into the house, but never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined how full of love my home might be so soon after.

  Okay, maybe in my wildest dreams, but I didn’t pay them much mind.

  I was a realist at heart, and I knew it was unlikely that I’d get a second chance with the woman who taught me what it meant to love someone.

  But like Laney always insisted, life truly was full of surprises.

  I poured two glasses of wine and walked barefoot through the grass to the middle of the yard where she was sitting, just out of reach from the shade of the apple tree my dad and I planted when I was only as tall as the shovel itself.

  Before interrupting, I took a moment to admire her concentrating face, her delicate features all scrunched and aimed at the paper, and her small hands, which struggled to hold six different colored pencils at once because they didn’t fit behind her ears with the rest of them.

  “Lovely evening,” she said without looking up.

  “So you’re not out here missing the big city?”

  I saw her cheeks rise with her smile. “No,” she said. “But if I ever do, just turn on that killer sprinkler of yours and let me run through it a few times in the grass. That should sort me right out.”

  “Deal,” I said, extending a glass into her field of vision.

  “Ohh!” she squealed. “What a nice surprise!”

  “You’re welcome,” I said, lifting Neo with one hand so I could take his spot at the end of the chair before draping him over my lap.

  “Cheers,” she said, clinking her glass against mine.

  “What will we toast to?” I asked, my eyes on her light blue ones.

  She twisted her mouth and rolled her eyes up in thought. “To long summer days?”

  I nodded. “I’ll drink to that.”

  Neo rolled onto his belly and started sniffing the air so I set him in the grass.

  “Did he just collapse next to Sarge?” Laney asked a second later.

  I bent over and looked under our chair. “Right against his belly.”

  She smiled. “They crack me up.”

  “What are you working on?” I asked.

  She looked down at the notebook and scratched her head. “I’m trying to figure out what to put in the windows at the school.”

  “Oh yeah?”