ThisTimeNextDoor

by Gretchen Galway

  “You are getting old.”

  “Not the only one,” Liam said with a grin.

  Two minutes later, on the way to the other end of the trail, they came out into a clearing with picnic tables, public barbecues, and familiar people gathered around them.

  “You son of a bitch,” Mark said under his breath.

  His brother just laughed. “Happy birthday, little brother. Mom said she invited a friend of yours. That must be her in the pink sweater.” Eyes narrowing, he studied her.

  Mark’s molars pressed together in the back of his mouth. Liam wasn’t supposed to meet Rose yet. He’d ask questions, make jokes, tell embarrassing stories. “She invited both the neighbors. Looks like only one of them came.”

  The group had noticed them now and was standing up, waving and calling out. “She’s just one of the neighbors?” Liam asked, still studying Rose.

  Mark couldn’t let his brother get involved. Whatever he’d started with Rose was too precarious. “She moved out, actually. Now we just work together.” Mark started to walk towards the group in resignation. “That’s all.”

  “You sure?”

  Mark waved at his mother, avoided Liam’s eyes. “Definitely.”

  He’d explain everything to Rose later.

  * * *

  “Look at his face,” Mark’s sister said. “He’s trying to decide if he can make a run for it.”

  Rose almost regretted participating in the surprise. The horror on Mark’s face was too genuine. I should’ve warned him at least, she thought. Although she’d been grateful to get sent out of town for a few days, knowing she’d be unlikely to keep the secret face-to-face. And she’d had other good reasons for staying away, like keeping her job, her self-respect, her peace of mind.

  And her heart. She’d thought it would be safer to have a fling with such a nice guy, that she could keep it fun, friendly.

  But that scene in the office hadn’t been fun and friendly. It had been…

  Insane.

  He looked adorably uncomfortable, deceptively harmless, but all that niceness hid an intensity that scared her. A deep part of her responded to him, connected to him, and wanted more. More, she suspected, than he was looking for from her. Sex, yes. Obviously. Frequently. But beyond that?

  Rose knew she wasn’t the one who made him trip over his feet, turn red, look like an idiot. Blair did that to him. Those were the feelings that ran deep to his heart, the romantic, emotional craving she herself was beginning to feel for him.

  Whatever he felt for her, it wasn’t strong enough to make him nervous—whereas she was suddenly shaky just looking at him from fifty feet away.

  Be careful, Rose.

  “Happy birthday!” Trixie shouted, arms raised. “Don’t let him get away, Liam. Hold on to him!”

  Mark’s brother was a staggeringly gorgeous blond with a lanky, athletic build and an arrogant grin. Blair told her he was an Olympic gold medalist in swimming and she believed it; he certainly had the physique.

  “He’s not going anywhere,” Liam said, putting a second hand on Mark’s shoulder; Mark flinched.

  “Happy birthday, you geezer!” his sister called. April, a curly brunette who looked about seventeen but was apparently much older, had one hand in the bag of corn chips and one in the rear pocket of her boyfriend’s jeans.

  “I think he needs a beer,” Bev said. Rose had been surprised to find out the warm, voluptuous woman engaged to Liam was also the head of Fite Fitness, the apparel company where they both worked. Bev had just inherited it, apparently. She looked more like the preschool teacher she’d been until recently. A down-to-earth, maternal type in yoga pants and a hoodie.

  Bev went over to the end of the table and got an Anchor Steam out of the cooler, popped the cap with the opener.

  Rose reached out for it. “I’ll administer it.”

  After a slight pause, Bev handed it to her, smiling. “Tell him there’s more where that came from.”

  Rose walked over, eyes fixed on Mark’s. She handed him the bottle.

  “Hi,” he said, then looked down. His jaw was tight.

  Poor guy. This was torture. She resisted the urge to kiss him on the cheek and embarrass him further. “Happy birthday,” she said, settling for widening her grin.

  “Thanks.” He turned red and stepped away.

  “Hi, I’m Liam.” The blond Adonis cut in, held out his hand.

  “Rose Devlin. Nice to meet you.”

  He had a firm handshake, and held it a little extra, sizing her up. He had a hard, confident way about him, very unlike his brother. “You work at WellyNelly?”

  “Just started,” she said.

  Liam raised an eyebrow. “How did my mother know to call you?”

  Bev waited a moment for Mark to explain. Then another. She finally said, “I was living next door. Mark got me the job.”

  “Of course.” Liam regarded her steadily. “Now I remember. Your friend is engaged to Ellen’s son.”

  “Yes.”

  Suddenly joining them, Bev wrapped an arm around Liam’s waist, pointed at the table. “I just put out the chips. We’ll have steak and salad a little later.” Then in a lower voice to Mark and Rose, “You should get some of the guacamole now before April and her boyfriend eat it all.”

  “I’ll do that,” Mark said, striding away.

  Rose watched him go, her hand tightening over the beer bottle.

  With his fiancée at his side, Liam seemed to lose interest in Rose. “Always feeding people, aren’t you?” He turned into Bev’s arms, lifted her a few inches off the ground.

  “Can’t let the kids get cranky,” she said, laughing.

  “I’m a grown man. We need beer. Beer and women.” He put Bev down and glanced at Rose. “Don’t let Bev shove food at you. She’s relentless. The more sugar the better.”

  “I don’t force you to eat anything,” Bev said.

  “You would if you were strong enough. But all that crap has made you weak.”

  “Pfft,” Bev said, rolling her eyes.

  Liam turned to Rose. “Seriously, watch out for her. You’ll end up eating way more than you should.”

  Rose’s smile was no longer coming naturally. She hadn’t liked the way he’d grilled her like a steak for the barbecue, and she really didn’t like any comment, however oblique, about what she should eat.

  And Mark had barely looked at her.

  With a wave, she escaped from Liam and Bev and joined Mark at the table with his mother, sister, and her boyfriend. Mark wasn’t talking to them, either, so she may have misjudged him; he was just on social overload, shoving chips into his mouth to ease the pain.

  “Happy birthday,” Trixie said, getting up to hug him. “Don’t be cross. I had to do something.”

  Mouth full of avocado mash, he stared bleakly at her.

  “I tried to invite Blair, too,” she added in a stage whisper, patting his back. “But she’s not ready yet.”

  “Of course she’s not,” he said, frowning.

  She leaned in closer, patting him again. “Give her time.” Then she stood up straight, smiled around at the group, obviously pleased with the party, and strode over to the grill with a wire brush in her hand.

  Rose took another swig of her beer. Then another.

  Blair. His mother thought he was pining over Blair.

  She tried to meet his gaze, but he was making love to the guacamole.

  His sister kept giving her looks, though. She knew.

  “I like her, Mark,” April said suddenly.

  Mouth around the lip of the beer bottle again, Rose realized she was talking about her.

  “Way to make her feel at ease,” her boyfriend said. He was bald and dark-skinned, with a round, youthful face and a gold hoop in one ear. If it weren’t for the North Face jacket, he’d look like a baby pirate.

  “Why wouldn’t it? It’s not like I said I didn’t like her,” April said.

  Mark stalked around the picnic table and said somet
hing in April’s ear. She rolled her eyes at Rose and made a zipper motion across her lips.

  “We haven’t met,” Mark said to April’s boyfriend, sticking his hand back into the chip bag. “I’m Mark.”

  “This is Samuel, but don’t bother getting to know him. We just broke up,” April said.

  Mark hesitated, then held up his chip to him in a salute. “Congratulations on your narrow escape.”

  “Hey,” April said.

  Samuel, who had been scowling at April, raised a bottle. “Yeah, thanks. Sorry to put a bummer on your day.”

  “It’s all right. I was already depressed.”

  “The big three-oh?”

  Mark nodded solemnly, drained his beer. Rose watched him look around, find the cooler, his eyes lighting up.

  He returned with two beers, set them both on the table. “One for you,” he said to Rose.

  The first thing he’d said to her all day. “Thanks so much.”

  “For the record, I dumped him,” April said.

  “You wanted to wait until tomorrow,” Samuel said. “It was my idea to go ahead and end it now.”

  April stole the beer out of his hand, took a sip. “What’s the big hurry? We’ve been miserable for weeks. What’s one more day?”

  Samuel reached over and reclaimed his drink. “I’m not your bitch.”

  “That is so offensive,” April said. “I can’t believe I ever slept with a guy so sexist.”

  “Yeah? Sexist?” Samuel stood up, leaning over her, and stroked his fleece-lined chest. “‘Sexy,’ more like. You want one more night because you can’t bear the thought of living the rest of your life without one more taste of all this, baby.”

  Trixie returned, dropping a bag of charcoal in the middle of the picnic table with a mushy thud. “Who wants to start the fire? I’m starving.”

  April popped up. “I would love to set something on fire.”

  “That’ll be a first,” Samuel said.

  She spun to face him, eyes flashing. “I can’t believe I ever had sex with you.”

  “Because you still can’t believe you could be so lucky,” Samuel replied in a low voice, moving closer to her.

  “You are so full of yourself.”

  “You like it.”

  April’s mouth dropped open. The rest of the group watched silently, shooting sideways glances at each other. A bowl of spiced almonds on the table caught Rose’s eye; she sat down, scooped up a handful, and settled in for the rest of the show.

  Mark strode away from the table to help his mother with some folding chairs. Rose stared at his long legs, remembering how they felt under her hands, strong and solid, how they flexed when he took a few minutes to fuck her on his desk.

  Had that really happened? Nothing in Mark’s demeanor suggested it had.

  She shoved another handful of almonds in her mouth, washed it down with a mouthful of beer, struggling to hide the building pain—no, rage, she was just enraged—inside her.

  Trixie slapped her forehead. “I forgot the lighter fluid in the car. April, could you please get it for me?”

  After a second, April broke her unblinking gaze on her pirate baby ex-boyfriend. “What?”

  “The lighter fluid. In the Volvo. Could you get it, please?”

  April looked around the table, saw they were all staring, sighed. “Fine. Yeah, I get it. I mean, I’ll get it.” She leaned under the table for her shoes, then gave Samuel a dark look as she put them on. “You might as well help me.”

  “Oh, I will,” he said.

  The two of the marched off in single file, April leading as fast as her rubber platform flip-flops would take her.

  Mark sat down at the opposite end of the table. “I hope the presents aren’t in the car. We won’t be seeing them again.”

  “Who says we got you presents?” Liam asked.

  “What he wants can’t be wrapped,” Trixie said.

  Mark abruptly stood up. “I’ll get the lighter fluid,” he said. “At the store.”

  “Oh, what do you know,” Trixie said, pulling a reusable shopping bag out from under the table. “Here it is.”

  Mark grabbed it. “I’ll get to work.”

  “It’s your birthday,” Trixie said. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I’d rather keep busy.” Charcoal on his hip, he strode over to the barbecue.

  He never looked at Rose, not once.

  Chapter 20

  “ROSE! WAIT UP!” MARK HURRIED down the path to the parking lot, pulling the family’s wheeled cooler behind him. Rose was disappearing up the path, much more sober than he was. She was hardly weaving at all, whereas he found the gentle undulation of the dirt trail underfoot to take enormous concentration.

  Not even sparing a glance over her shoulder, Rose walked faster.

  All right, it didn’t take a high emotional IQ to see she was upset.

  “Rose, please.” He picked up his pace, ignored the way the cooler wobbled sideways off its wheels and dragged on the ground. “Rose!”

  She did stop then, but didn’t turn. Her shoulders were rigid, her hands balled into fists.

  Taken aback, he stopped several feet away, let the handle to the cooler slip out of his fingers.

  Had Liam said something to her? He’d agonized during the picnic about taking her aside to warn her about his overprotective brother, but figured her cheerful ignorance was a better smokescreen. He’d been relieved when she seemed to take his cue and not act overtly familiar with him in front of his family.

  “Rose,” he said, catching his breath. “I need to talk to you.”

  She spun around, eyes flashing like blue LEDs. “Now you want to talk.”

  “Yeah, I need to explain…”

  Her hands went to her hips. Her lips pressed together.

  He ran his hand through is hair. “Why I was ignoring you,” he finished. The picnic was breaking up; others were certain to come down the path any minute. But she looked too angry to wait.

  “Oh?” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “You can explain?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  Crossing her arms over her chest, she gave him a look that said, I doubt that very much, you ugly loser.

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Let’s get out of here so we can talk privately.”

  She shook her head and marched away. This time he didn’t catch her until she was almost at her car—the car he hadn’t recognized in the parking lot earlier when he’d arrived because it was so similar to half the other sedans on the road.

  She slammed herself inside and started the engine.

  Cursing himself for that last and second-to-last beer, Mark ran over and put his hand on the hood of her car. She wouldn’t actually run over him, right? “You’re overreacting!”

  The look she gave him through the windshield actually hurt. He felt an urge to throw up his arms to ward off the hostile rays. “I take it back,” he said hastily. “You’re not overreacting. I’m an idiot. Please listen to me.”

  She wasn’t listening. When the car started to back up, he scrambled around the hood and jerked the passenger door open, thanking his luck her car was too cheap to have auto door locks as he threw himself inside.

  She pushed his knee. “Hey!”

  “It’s just like our first date.” He jerked the door shut and reached for the seat belt, breathing heavily.

  Rose shoved him harder. “I don’t care if it’s your birthday,” she said between her teeth. “Get out.”

  “I need a ride.”

  “Your mommy can drive you.”

  “Are you upset about the picnic?” He snapped the belt into the buckle. “Or because of what happened at the office?”

  Her mouth fell open. “What happened at the office?”

  He was wrong, very wrong, but not sure how to get it right again. “So,” he ventured, “it’s because I was kind of aloof today?”

  The dam broke. “You didn’t even talk to me! You were too busy
having a carb binge.”

  “That is it.” He let out a long breath. “I can explain.”

  “Sure you can, buddy.” She laughed mirthlessly. “You lost me at no hello, you understand? You could’ve made small talk, smiled, anything—” She shook her head, stared straight ahead, scowling.

  He put a hand on her leg, her face. “Rose, I’m so sorry. I should’ve called you earlier this week but I wanted to see you in person— ”

  “Alone?” Her voice was low.

  “Yes. Definitely.”

  “God forbid there be people around.”

  “In this case, yes,” he said.

  She pushed his hand off her leg. “You left the cooler on the path.”

  “My mom will see it.”

  “Go ahead and get it.” She shifted the car into reverse. “You can put it in my trunk.”

  He wiggled his ass into the seat. “I’m not going anywhere, are you kidding? You’ll drive away.”

  “I promise to wait for you.”

  He snorted. “You’d be lying.”

  After a moment, the corner of her mouth twitched. “Yeah, I would be.” She slapped the wheel with her palms. “Fine. I’ll drive you home. But only because it’s your birthday and God forbid I embarrass you.” And then she backed up and the Toyota was rattling over the broken concrete to the road ahead.

  He rubbed his eyes, more relieved than he’d ever been in his life.

  Oh, God. He had to tell her about Sylly. What he’d seen, what he’d threatened.

  He took a deep breath, rubbed his damp palms over his thighs. “Thank you.”

  She braked for a speed bump. He watched her lovely profile, cheeks brightly flushed, chin up, and took the plunge.

  “I was trying to protect you,” he said. “My brother saw you and assumed—well, it wasn’t any of his business. He jumped to all kinds of wrong conclusions, assuming he knows what’s best for me. He still thinks I’m twelve years old.”

  “Then maybe you should stop acting like it.”

  He swallowed. She didn’t understand. It was more than Mark, it was his mother, the people at work, all that attention when he didn’t even know what she wanted from him, where they were going. “I didn’t want to make a big deal about us—”