Boy Next Door (Parkside Avenue Book #2)

by Lyon, Raquel

  I was greeted by a tuxedo-clad man and ushered upstairs to the manager’s office, as if he were ashamed of my presence. Once there, I listened intently to the manager’s wishes, and showed off my portfolio, before he accompanied me down to the patio area, where the work was to take place. It was not as big a job as I’d hoped, replacing a couple of dead trees, and increasing the number of planters filled with hardy evergreens. I guessed the need for speed was why I’d been chosen; my new business would be less likely to have a waiting list. The fact that it was a rush job was no problem for me. With so little to do, I’d have it completed within a couple of days. Still, work was work. A price was agreed and hands were shaken. Then I was escorted to the bar and offered a drink on the house, before I left. I accepted gratefully, having nothing better to do, and sat at the bar nursing a cold beer.

  I’d almost finished my drink when a couple caught my eye. I was too far away to hear their conversation, but the man’s face was stern, almost disapproving. He shook his head as he laid a hand on the woman’s arm. Her distaste at his touch was obvious. She shook his hand away and stood abruptly, snatching her napkin from her lap and slamming it onto the table. Other diners halted mid-mouthful to watch the altercation. The woman turned and my heart stopped. It was Cora.

  She stepped away from the table as her date stood and snagged her arm in an attempt to pull her back. Anger tore at my insides. I wanted to pummel his face into the plush furnishings. How dare he put his hands on her? I shot from my stool and was at her side in seconds. “Take your hands off the lady.”

  Cora’s date scowled. “Mind your own business.”

  “It is my business. Cora is a friend of mine. So, I repeat, remove your hand from her arm.”

  “Or what?”

  I glanced around at the faces frowning at the disturbance. This wasn’t the kind of joint you started a fight in. “Or we could continue this conversation outside.” Audacity puffed out my chest, as he carried out a top to toe assessment before his grip loosened and fell. “Thought not,” I said.

  “Johnny, were you following me?” Cora asked.

  “Of course not. The meeting I told you about was with the manager of this place. I had no idea it was the same restaurant you were coming to with your date. It seems fate wanted me here.”

  Our dispute brought a waiter to my side. He addressed Cora. “Is there a problem here, madam?”

  “No,” she replied. “No problem. I was just leaving. Johnny, could you … take me home, please?”

  I beamed a gloating victory at her date, before realising I had a severe lack of wheels. Ah, hell. Who cared? We could always call a taxi. “My pleasure,” I said, offering Cora the crook of my arm.

  “You’re leaving?” The man’s acne scarred face puckered further with loathing. “With this … boy?”

  “I am. Yes.” Cora snatched her shawl from the back of her chair, turned on her heels, and grabbed my arm. “Because I’m certainly … not staying here … with you.”

  His voice followed us. “You’re welcome to her. Two-bit drunk.”

  My blood boiled, and it took all my strength to hold back. If I hadn’t cared about causing a scene and getting thrown off the new job before I’d even picked up a trowel, I would have punched the fat bastard in the nose without a second thought.

  As I escorted Cora towards the entrance, her heel buckled, and she stumbled into my arms. She giggled.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “I’m a little woozy. I may have had … one glass of wine too many.”

  “What, just the one?”

  She clenched her teeth, and her mouth stretched over them, as she pinched her thumb and forefinger together. “I had a couple to settle my nerves … before I came.” The forefinger pressed against her bottom lip. “It may not … have been the best idea.”

  I suppressed a laugh. She was funny when she was tipsy. Like a little girl. “You don’t say. Did you drive here?”

  She nodded and pointed aimlessly in half a dozen different directions. “The Audi’s over there … somewhere,” she said. Man, the drink had really taken hold. She was shitfaced.

  “Where? In that tree? Or perhaps you meant inside the grocery store next door?” She slumped into my arms, her weight heavy on my chest. I held her upright.

  “Please, just get me to my bed,” she said.

  It was everything I wanted to hear, at the worst possible time. As much as the thought made my heart ache and my dick throb with anticipation, I’d never take advantage of a woman in need. “Give me your keys before you pass out.”

  “You’re a lifesaver,” she slurred.

  When I finally located the car, Cora clung to me as I eased her into the front seat. I loved the way it felt to be needed by her. I hadn’t been needed by anyone since Mum died last summer, and Dad had reached out in his grief, calling for the company of his sons to remind him he still had something to live for. I’d thought he was coping, that eventually he would come to accept his loss, but he went downhill rapidly when I had to return to uni for the start of the new term, and slipped into a depression which could only ever have had one conclusion. I blamed myself. I shouldn’t have gone. Maybe if I’d stayed, he’d still be alive, but I’d put my studies before my father’s wellbeing. Something I’ve regretted ever since. Cora was suffering from a different kind of grief, but she was still hurting, and this time, I would be there to see her through to the other side.

  When we arrived back at Cora’s house, I carried her carefully inside and set her down in the hallway.

  “Will you be okay now?” I asked, dropping her purse onto the table.

  “I’ll be fine,” she said, moving away from my supportive arms and stumbling once more.

  I caught her around the waist. “Maybe I’d better see you to your room.”

  She looked at the stairs and blinked. I followed her thought process. She’d never make it up the stairs alone. Before she could protest, I scooped her into my arms and carried her up to the bedroom, lowering her feet gently onto the bedside rug. Her arms twisted behind her back, attempting to find the zip of her dress, and I bit back a chuckle as she contorted like Mr Elastic Man. “Here. Let me.”

  Without protest, she allowed me to slide down the zip and let the dress drop to her ankles, revealing a black push-up bra and matching panties, which fuelled my now pulsating hard-on. I had to dig deep into my reserve to resist the urge to assist her off with the sexy little two-piece too. Since meeting Cora, I’d been in a constant state of sexual frustration, and it took every ounce of my willpower not to strip her fully naked and fuck her ‘til the sun came up, but now wasn’t the time. I eased her under the covers and laid a soft kiss on her forehead. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

  Her lips parted and a word that was barely a whisper escaped. “Stay.”

  What was that? I wasn’t sure I’d heard her correctly. The permanent horn taking up residence in my groin could be causing me to hear what I wanted to hear. I squatted down to level my head with hers. “Did you say something?”

  Her eyes flickered open. “Stay,” she repeated.

  Yep, I’d definitely heard her right, and needing no further invitation, I stripped off and slipped under the sheet, fully expecting her to roll over and plant me with the slap I’d been expecting, because she hadn’t actually meant for me to join her in the bed. But hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I lay on my side, wondering what to do next, when she surprised me by reaching around to pull my arm over her body, and wriggling into me. I inched closer until we were spooning with my bulging erection nestled exactly where I wanted it, between her ass cheeks. She smelled of heady perfume and stale wine, a pungent mixture that invaded my nostrils and made my temples throb, but the pain was nothing in comparison to the agony of being so close to something so unavailable.

  I waited until I was certain she was asleep, before I snuck to the en suite and jacked one off. I knew I shouldn’t have, but hell, I’m a red-blooded man, and if I hadn’t done it
, my load would have blown, in the middle of the night, all over her peachy little ass. When I returned, Cora rolled over and nestled into my chest. My heart was beating so loudly I thought she would wake, but instead, her breathing slowed and her body melted into mine.

  I could get used to this.

  Chapter Eleven

  When I awoke, nine hours later, Cora was in the same position, with her face sporting a crooked smile and her hand wrapped around my morning glory. I considered rousing her, to ask her to move it, but it felt so good I was already on the verge of exploding. My yawning caused her eyelids to flutter open, and recollection startled her upright, clutching the sheet to her chest. “Johnny? No. Please say … no.”

  My face creased to a smile. “No.”

  “Then … Why are you in my bed?”

  “Because it’s where you wanted me.”

  “I did?” She looked puzzled.

  “Yeah.” I laughed. “You did.”

  “Oh my God, what have I done?”

  “You got a bit tipsy, that’s all.”

  “And invited you into my bed?”

  “Yeah.”

  Her eyes hardened. “You should have said no.”

  “I don’t like to disappoint.”

  She lifted the sheet, looked down at her body, and relaxed with relief. “And then what did I do?”

  “You fell asleep.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Well, you snored a little.”

  “I don’t snore.”

  “It was cute.”

  She bit her lip nervously, giving her an innocent air. “But my hand was on your … You know.”

  I loved how I was making her uncomfortable. I’d half expected her to scream at me to get out, but she hadn’t. She liked me. I knew it. “Yeah, baby. I didn’t mind. In fact, I enjoyed it. You can put it back, if you like.”

  Her eyes closed and she let go of a sigh. “What happened last night?”

  “Your date didn’t go too well. I gave you a ride home.”

  Her eyes flickered along with her thought process. “You’d better go.”

  “If that’s what you want.” It wasn’t what I wanted. I was exactly where I wanted to be … almost. I’d stupidly thought that maybe our night together would bring us closer. Instead, she was slinging me out without so much as a thank-you. If I’d been kicked in the stomach, I couldn’t have felt sicker.

  She paused just long enough to offer me a glimmer of hope. “It is.”

  I couldn’t leave without trying to hold on to the ground I’d gained. “All right. On one condition. Come out with me today.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Do you have plans?”

  “No.”

  “Then why not?”

  She gripped the sheet tighter. “I can’t do this.”

  “You were doing fine a minute ago.”

  “Johnny, please. I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”

  “What’s to be embarrassed about?” I laid a hand on her Egyptian cotton covered knee. Her breath caught.

  “Listen, Johnny, I like you. You’ve been good to me. I thank you for bringing me home, but I can’t go out with you.”

  “I need a reason.”

  She stared at my hand, and her voiced wavered. “I-I just can’t.”

  “I thought you’d started dating again.”

  “That wasn’t my idea.” Her fingers rubbed across her forehead and her eyes squeezed shut for a second.

  “But you went anyway, and you owe me one for rescuing you last night.”

  Her mouth opened in silent protest. Closed. And opened again. “Fine. You can take me out. Once. But that’s it, okay?”

  A foot in the door was all I needed. I squeezed her knee playfully and climbed out of bed. “Morning or afternoon?” I asked, retrieving my pants from the floor and stepping into them.

  She tried not to watch, but she did. “Um, oh, um …” She rubbed her brow again. “If I can rid myself of this headache, I still intend to take my morning run.”

  “Okay,” I said, pulling on my shirt. “I’ll come round at two. No need to change out of the Lycra.”

  I turned from Cora’s puzzled expression and jogged down the stairs, just as Nessie entered the front door. I winked at her, in passing.

  “What the fuck …?” she shouted, staring at my open shirt. “Mum? Mum?”

  I glanced back to witness her taking the stairs at a pace, wondering how Cora was going to explain my unkempt presence, upstairs, at seven o’clock in the morning.

  ***

  Back at Pappa’s, the air was eerily quiet, with only the faint rumble of snoring filtering through Pappa’s door. No sound emitted from Kendrick’s room. Most likely the result of another late night making him dead to the world.

  I tried to keep the noise down as I took a welcome shower, but almost cursed out loud when I saw the empty shampoo bottle. Paps liked to have a long soak his en suite, so I knew it had to be Kendrick who had nicked the last of it, and we were out of shower gel too. Fucking typical. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to live with my brother’s inconsiderate ways. With no option left, I grabbed the only thing available and washed myself with conditioner. Then with coconut wafting in the air, I changed into a fresh pair of jeans and a T-shirt retrieved from the floor—I’d only worn it for a day and it didn’t smell overly ripe.

  Suitably refreshed, I jogged downstairs to kick-start the coffee machine. Not that I needed coffee. My energy levels were sky high from the impromptu early night and my progress with Cora, but Paps would appreciate my effort when he rose for the day. The audible bubbling of the percolator was overtaken by a crash, as the front door burst open. I rushed to see the cause.

  In the doorway, a muscular, sandy haired guy held Kendrick draped, unconscious, at his side. He struggled through the opening with his burden. “He got a bit roughed up, mate. He’s all yours.”

  I studied my brother’s bruised and bloodied face. His skin was warm, and a pulse met my fingers on his neck. “What happened?”

  “Fucked if I know. I found him like this.”

  “Yeah, right. Where?”

  “In the gutter. Back of Green Street.”

  “And you’re saying you had nothing to do with it?”

  “Would I have brought him home, if I had?”

  “Who are you?”

  “Name’s Liam,” he said, unhooking Kendrick’s arm and pushing his body in my direction. His bulk slumped into me as I caught him.

  Liam, of course. Who else? “If you did this to him, I’ll …”

  “You’ll what? Christ. You do a guy a favour and get shit for gratitude. Fuck you. Try taking a look in the mirror before laying blame at someone else’s door.”

  Struggling under the dead weight of my brother, I asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Rick was doing fine before you turned up. Then you come waltzing onto our turf, acting all big man. Feathers have been ruffled, cockshit,” Liam’s narrowed eyes stared down his nose, “and we don’t need you stirring up more trouble. When he comes round, you can tell him the job’s off, and he’s got you to thank.”

  Vibration shuddered through the house as the door slammed under the force of Liam’s wrath. I stared at the woodwork, covering the opening where he’d stood a second ago, and hitched Kendrick more securely into my hold. The metallic smell of blood coated my nostrils.

  Kendrick groaned.

  “Come on, Bro. Better get you upstairs before Paps sees the state you’re in.”

  If Pappa woke up and saw his grandson battered and bruised, any points I’d earned with my coffee making skills would be outshone, big time, by my failure to keep Kendrick out of harm’s way.

  How had it come to this? I’d been in town less than a fortnight. Before I arrived, I had very specific plans. Plans for a secure future for both Kendrick and me. Plans that hadn’t included falling for Pappa’s next-door neighbour or making enemies in my new town. Kendrick was my baby bro. I was meant
to be taking care of him, keeping him out of trouble, but if Liam was right, all I’d done, so far, was to get Kendrick’s face pulped. It had to have been those sadistic bastards from the game. If I hadn’t gone back, my brother would have been safe. If they’d caught me that night, it would have been me lying in the alley, not him. Why was I so stupid as to think I’d get away with it? All the cash in the world couldn’t replace the life of my brother.

  For the second time in a few short hours, I carried someone upstairs, this time with my guilt weighing down my burden.

  I made Kendrick as comfortable as possible, cleaning away the dried blood and propping up his head with plenty of pillows. There was nothing more I could do, short of a trip to the hospital, and that would mean questions I couldn’t answer, and possibly the police. Involving the authorities would only cause more trouble. Incidents like this were always outside the law.

  Blood had stained my already suspect T-shirt, which forced me to finally do some laundry. I swear if I ever make it in life, I’m hiring a laundry service to do that crap. Dealing with your own stench is bad enough, but other people’s sweat stains and skid marks make me dry heave.

  Paps surfaced when I was stuffing the machine.

  “I made coffee, although it might be stewed by now. Should I make fresh?” I asked.

  “No need to trouble yourself,” Paps said, pouring a cup. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  I watched as he shuffled down the corridor, coffee in hand, pulled the morning paper from the letterbox, and settled into his chair. Moments later, the air filled with tobacco aroma.

  So much for point scoring.

  Chapter Twelve

  Newly clothed in a fresh, white T-shirt, I stood on Cora’s front porch with a bicycle in each hand, contemplating which one to let go of in order to knock.