Before she succumbed to another wave of pointless sexual desire, at least pointless where he was concerned, she shook herself out of her musings. She never got like this around a man, no matter how attracted she was to him. She seriously needed to find someone to fuck before her brain turned to jelly.
She waved and smiled, wanting to seem welcoming. He didn’t respond. He was looking down at what was surely a sports watch of some kind, monitoring his heart rate or how fast he’d been running. He slowed down as he came up onto his lawn and then began to stretch.
“Hi,” Nettie called out as he sat on the grass to stretch out his hamstrings—his superbly muscular hamstrings. Sheesh, the man was like chiseled stone. “How was your run?”
His back was to her, and he didn’t answer. Now he was purposely being a dick. “I said, how was your run?”
Still nothing. Nettie stomped down the porch and tapped him hard on his shoulder. “Hey, guy, I’m talking to you.”
“What the—” Joshua jumped up, turning around to look at her in surprise, pulling tiny wireless earbuds out of his ears. “Why the hell are you sneaking up on me?”
“I wasn’t sneaking up on you. I’ve been calling out to you since you jogged onto the lawn. I’m sorry. I didn’t notice you were wearing headphones.”
“Yeah, well maybe you should be more observant.”
His cutting tone took her aback. “You think I should be more observant? I’ve been sitting on your porch this entire time. You were so obsessed with your running time or whatever that you barely noticed the world around you.”
He had sat back down on the grass, continuing to stretch, not looking at her.
“That’s the point of running, to focus on yourself and to become self-aware. That’s why I do it.”
“Well, neighbor, I offer advice from someone who’s lived here a few years.” He still wasn’t looking at her, and she was pissed now. Nettie snapped in his face to get his attention. He glared up at her. “This community is close, we support and help one another, and we’re nosy. We’re involved.”
He stood in a huff, towering over her. “So what, does that mean I’m not allowed to go for a run?”
“By all means, go for a run. But get your head out of your ass and stop to smell the roses.”
“That would defeat the purpose of the run.” His tone implied Nettie was idiotic. She wasn’t idiotic. He was the idiot.
“I just mean, open your eyes and pay attention to what’s going on around you. Maybe there’s a neighbor standing on your porch and waving at you like an imbecile.” This was exhausting. Nettie had never felt this disappointed by meeting someone new until now. “You know what? I don’t know why I’m here, this is clearly pointless, so I’m gonna go. Good night.”
“Wait, why are you here?” he called after her as she began to walk back toward her house across their connected lawns.
“I made you stupid welcome-to-the-neighborhood cookies,” Nettie called over her shoulder without looking back. “They’re on your swing.”
“I don’t really eat cookies.”
“Of course you don’t.” He was an abomination of a human being.
“What were you doing on my swing?” the bastard called after her, not getting the message that she wanted him to leave her alone now.
When she got to her door, she flipped him the bird and yelled back, “It was my swing first, butthead!” She opened her door, stomped in, then slammed it shut.
Nettie nodded to herself. “I have a neighbor enemy. Awesome.” She shed her light coat and walked toward her kitchen. Without thinking, she picked up her cell and dialed her brother, putting him on speakerphone.
“Hello?”
“I have a neighbor enemy.”
“What are you talking about, Nettie?” She could hear the exasperation in his voice already.
“I brought my neighbor cookies, and he didn’t want them. Who wouldn’t want my cookies? Everybody likes my cookies.”
“If this is a euphemism for sex, I want to remind you that you’re my baby sister, and I will have to kill anyone who wants anything to do with your cookies.”
“Ugh, real cookies. Cookies I baked to welcome my neighbor to the neighborhood. I was being fucking neighborly. I waited for him on his porch in the cold to give him cookies.”
“That’s a little stalkerish.”
“Don’t you dare take his side!” Nettie opened each of her cabinets, not knowing what she wanted, but feeling she needed something at that very moment.
“Sorry, sorry. What happened then?”
“He said he doesn’t like cookies. What kind of devil worshipper doesn’t like cookies?”
“The devil-worshipping kind. What are you doing over there, playing the drums on pots and pans?”
“I’m gonna make hot chocolate.” She had unconsciously taken out the unsweetened cocoa, milk, and sugar…but something was missing. She reached into her fridge and pulled out a white bottle. “And spike it with coconut rum.”
“That sounds really good.”
“Wanna come over?”
“Sure, I’ll call a cab and be right there.”
“Sounds peachy.”
She hung up and slammed the pot onto her stove. “Who doesn’t like cookies?” she muttered to herself. “I live next to a communist.” She unscrewed the bottle cap and took a swig of the sweet alcohol. The liquid burned down her throat and she coughed hard. “Needs chocolate.”
* * * *
Joshua Dellinger put the pretty plate of cookies on his counter. They smelled like brown sugar and chocolate, with something else…almonds maybe. He’d sworn off sugar the past few months and didn’t want to break the streak, but damn, these cookies smelled amazing. And his new neighbor…Nettie Croft. She had looked stunning storming off in a rage, her long brown hair flailing after her tall and fit frame, yelling at him for not liking cookies. Her green eyes had a ring of yellow around her irises, the color flaring as her eyes had widened in anger, giving her a tempestuous edge. Her plush, pink lips had opened in a permanent state of annoyed surprise, and her front teeth—long for her small face—had brushed against her bottom lip whenever she swallowed before speaking. But she was incapable of appearing truly angry, due to the innocent-looking bangs covering her large forehead and the button nose that scrunched.
And had she given him the finger? He was about 99 percent sure she had. She was hilarious and beautiful, and she was dangerous to him.
Nettie was unexpected and troublesome. When he moved to the quaint Connecticut neighborhood, he’d committed himself to the bachelor life. Not the type of bachelor that roamed the streets, looking for hot ass and getting wasted every evening. No, he wanted to settle into his life as the perpetual loner. He hadn’t meant to be rude to her the previous day with those kids, but she’d caught him off guard. He’d just gotten off the phone with his ex, demanding more than he had to give, as usual, and he was too frustrated to placate the small children. He felt bad afterward, had wanted to apologize. But they were gone by the time he’d come around, and he was too much of a coward to go over to Nettie’s house and apologize.
His doorbell rang—or screeched as it had yet to be fixed, and he ran to get the door.
“Hi,” he said, opening it and expecting Nettie, still mad, possibly come back to reclaim her cookies. Instead, he found the kind but nosy woman from across the street. He could have sworn her curtains parted every time a car drove by or a door opened and closed.
“Well hello, Joshua. How are you this evening? What is that delightful smell?”
“Cookies. Um, would you like some?” He stepped back and gestured for her to come in.
“Yes, thank you.” She waltzed in as if she’d been in the house a million times before, steering straight for the kitchen.
“Know your way around?”
She picked up a cookie and sniffed it before taking a bite. “Yes, I knew the previous owner. He and I were hot and heavy once upon a time. After my dear husband pass
ed, of course.”
Joshua could imagine it. Mrs. Berkin was a small, skinny old woman. Her dark, curled hair was definitely a wig, and she had a crazy amount of makeup on. But there was a graceful and old-fashioned diva air about her, something that made him want to keep her here and listen to her stories, of which he was sure she had many.
“I don’t doubt it.”
Mrs. Berkin pointed to the cookie with open eyes. “Nettie made these!”
“What?”
“I’d know these cookies anywhere. You must have done something special to get Nettie to make her secret recipe cookies. She only makes them for people she thinks very highly of.”
Now he felt like the biggest asshole in the world. “I don’t really know her.”
“She must have wanted you to feel welcome to the neighborhood. We’re close here, Joshua. We look out for one another.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Yes, then I’m sure this won’t come as a shock to hear.” Mrs. Berkin put the cookie down and leveled him with a forbidding glare. “If I ever see or hear you talk to our Nettie like that again, I will complain to the housing board every day about you until you are kicked out of this state. Do you understand? There will be no street left in Connecticut that will welcome you, let alone give you cookies. Capiche?”
Joshua was speechless. A seventy-five-year-old woman just threatened him over a plate of cookies. What alternate universe had he landed himself in? He’d moved to Connecticut. It was supposed to be normal here. Quiet. With no beautiful and spritely neighbors baking him cookies.
“I need some sign that you understand me, boy.”
This couldn’t be the first time she threatened someone.
“Understood, ma’am.”
“Wonderful.” And just like that, she was the happy neighbor once more. “This has been a wonderful chat, but I should be going. Mind if I take one more cookie? Nettie sure knows how to bake.”
“Be my guest.”
They both stood, and Joshua walked her to the door. She was halfway down the porch steps when she turned to face him. He felt like a train had just flown past him and he’d nearly been hit by it. “Oh, and dear?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Nettie is a sweet girl, but she has this flaw. She needs to be liked and even though you treated her terribly, she will most likely try again with you. And keep trying until you cave. Don’t make her try again. I don’t care if you do or don’t like her. Pretend you like her.”
“Why is it so important to you?”
“I know her, and I know what she and her siblings have been through in their lives. I want her to be happy.”
“She’s not the only person on this block who’s been through some stuff lately.”
“Yes, but the simple truth is I don’t know you.” With a flick of her curls, she flounced down the steps and returned to her fort across the street. He watched, making sure she returned safely, then went back inside to grab a beer and a cookie. Not the best flavor combination but Mrs. Berkin did say they were Nettie’s best. He came back outside, a warmer coat on to ward against the fall air, and sat on his porch.
He looked over at Nettie’s house as he took a bite of the cookie. It was still warm, the chocolate all melted and spiced with a component he couldn’t figure out—a secret ingredient. He didn’t want to take a swig of beer for fear he’d ruin the taste.
What would make a woman need to be liked so terribly that she’d risk his verbal abuse twice? He really was an asshole, and he hadn’t meant to come off as one. This week—hell, this year had been awful. But that didn’t give him the excuse to treat people like shit. He’d been taught better than that. He stood, knowing what he needed to do. He’d go over there, ignore the tight sensation in his gut he’d experienced each time he’d met her, apologize, and thank her for the cookies. It was a nice gesture, and she seemed like a sweet and caring woman to have as a neighbor.
Just as he began to descend the stairs, an unfamiliar car pulled up. There was writing on the side that Joshua couldn’t see in the dark. It was probably a cab. A man got out of the front, ran around the car, and opened the door. A tall guy with a cane exited, placing some money in the cabbie’s hand. They had a short conversation, the cabbie gesturing frantically. Soon there were raised voices, and the cabbie slammed his hand against the side of his car. Joshua decided to step in. He trotted over, waving toward the cabbie.
“Hi, hi there,” Joshua said, smiling. “Is there a problem here?”
“What?” the cabbie asked, clearly annoyed at Joshua’s intrusion. He had long, greasy blond hair, and most likely had eaten one too many Twinkies on the job if his massive gut was anything to go by. “No, no problem.”
“There isn’t?” the tall man asked, surprised. “Just a moment ago you said I hadn’t given you enough money, that I couldn’t see what I’d given you.”
The tall man had sunglasses on despite the late hour, and it was only then that Joshua realized what was going on here.
“Get out of here,” Joshua said to the greasy cabbie. “Or do you need me to count the cash for you? I bet there’s even a nice tip in there.”
“No, need. I’m good.” The cabbie rounded the car, and as he got in Joshua heard him say, “Nosy asshole.”
The tires screeched against the pavement, leaving marks Josh was sure Mrs. Berkin would take issue with.
“You use that company regularly?” Joshua asked the blind man.
“Yes.” He sighed, placing his wallet back in his pocket.
“Do they always try to swindle you?”
“At least once per driver. I tell them I’m only partially blind and then they back off. This one was a little more persistent.” The man held his hand out in Joshua’s general direction, but it wasn’t exactly right. “I’m Armstrong, Armie for short.”
Joshua adjusted his stance to take the hand and shake. “Joshua Dellinger.”
“Are you just taking a stroll around here? I’m not familiar with that name, and I know mostly everyone in this neighborhood.”
“I moved in next door a few days ago. I was sitting on my porch when I saw you and the cabbie start to fight.”
“Ah. Well, thank you for intervening, Joshua. I appreciate it, but I’m afraid there is some hot chocolate spiked with coconut rum awaiting me inside.” He gestured his cane toward Nettie’s house. Josh couldn’t help but wonder what Armie would be doing while he and Nettie drank the hot chocolate. Beneath the glasses, he was a good-looking guy, dark hair, tall. Probably the kind of guy Nettie would go for.
Nettie’s door opened, raining a bright light across the lawn. She ran out, waving and smiling until she saw Josh standing with her friend. She slowed, but her smile didn’t wane, no matter how fake it was. She was clearly trying hard not to be rude to him. Mrs. Berkin appeared to be correct. Her perseverance made him like Nettie more while increasing his guilt for his earlier behavior.
“Hi, Armie,” she said, wrapping her arm around his waist. “What are you doing out here?”
“Your neighbor just saved me from being swindled by the cab company again.”
“Ugh. I told you not to use those guys anymore. I gave you the number of a service company.”
“You know I can’t read.”
“I put it in your phone.”
“Still can’t read.”
“You use voice recognition on your phone.”
“They take forever, Nettie, and there is old-people smell in those vans.”
“You’re the worst blind person ever.”
“Not fully blind.” Armie turned to Josh with a grin. “Counting down the days until I can say full blind. I’m gonna make a million Fulbright jokes.”
“Are you a Fulbright scholar?” Josh asked, not getting the joke.
“No, but it will still be funny.”
“Only to people who don’t have a firm grasp on what real humor is. C’mon let’s go inside.” Nettie turned to Josh, her smile tight but present noneth
eless. “Thanks for helping him. He would be lost even if he could see completely.”
“You’re mean to me,” Armie whined.
“Anytime,” Josh said. Nettie nodded and began to guide Armie back toward her house. Josh almost let her get away but then decided to hell with his pride. “Thanks for the cookies. They were good.”
She looked back at him with a frown. “I thought you didn’t like cookies.”
“I didn’t say that. I said I didn’t really eat cookies. It’s for health reasons. What kind of communist doesn’t like cookies?”
She stared at him for a second, looking confused and confounded. Then with a shake of her head, pulled her visitor into her house and closed the door. Josh smiled, looking forward to the next time he could see that adorably perplexed face, then ran back up toward his porch to drink his beer and eat more cookies. Sugar be damned.
Chapter Three
Nettie got out of her car and kicked the tire with all her might. Surprisingly, that didn’t make it magically inflate. So much for the power of the imagination. She was tempted to keep kicking no matter how futile the gesture because today had royally sucked.
There are many levels on which a day could suck, especially for Nettie. There was the no-coffee-creamer-left-in-the-morning level of suck. The multiple-people-cut-in-front-of-her-at-the-grocery-store suckage. But today was one of the top five reasons for suckage, mostly because it wasn’t her fault and there was nothing she could do about it.
As the Front of House and Box Office Manager for the local theater, Nettie tried to maintain a calm and friendly demeanor. She did that with everyone for the most part—grumpy neighbors not included—but today she nearly lost it. She came within an inch of blowing her cork at a customer. At a customer. Never in her life had she expressed rudeness or dissatisfaction with the attitude or opinion of a theater patron. Today might have been that day had her coworker not pointed to the poster of the kitten on the branch claiming “hang in there.”
Trick or Treat or Kiss Me (Croft Holidays Book 1) Page 2
