Boy Next Door (Parkside Avenue Book #2)

by Lyon, Raquel

  Feeling frustrated and defeated, I decided to hold on to my bus fare and walk the short distance home. At this rate, it would take years to get enough cash together for the land. My journey took me past the police station, and I was so preoccupied with wondering how the fuck I was going to boost my bank balance, that my eyes were fixed on the pavement instead of the way ahead, and I had to stop abruptly when a captive was hauled from the back of a Black Maria and across my path. As I watched the men disappear through the door, a poster in the window caught my attention.

  It was a notice asking for volunteers to help tidy up the local cemetery. They were after free labour, but hey, I didn’t mind giving up my time, and if it helped get the word out, I could write it off as advertising. I called inside and picked up an information leaflet from the desk.

  ***

  I arrived home to the sound of indie rock. Kendrick was in the living room, and he wasn’t alone. He was with a girl—and a pretty one at that, if you discounted the bruises on her face. He glanced up as I entered, and sniggered. “Fuck me. Finally found the scissors, huh? About time.”

  “You like? I asked, ruffling my fingers across what was left of my hair.

  “Looking sharp, dude.” He pushed out his bottom lip as his head bobbed. “So, where were you, last night? Your bed wasn’t slept in.”

  “Next door.”

  “All night?”

  “I was kinda busy.”

  “Yeah, but all night, dude? What did you do, fall asleep in the shed? I thought you’d finished there?”

  “Man, I’ve only just started. Where’s Paps?”

  “Taking a nap.”

  I glanced at the empty chair in the corner. “Where?”

  “Upstairs.”

  Right on cue, the muffled sound of coughing sounded from above. “It’s not like him to take to his bed. Is he okay?”

  Kendrick shrugged. “Looked fine to me. I guess he didn’t want to intrude. Stop changing the subject.”

  “What subject?”

  “Where the fuck were you … exactly?”

  I took Pappa’s spot in his chair and stretched out my legs. Smokey interrupted his snooze on the hearth rug to offer me a disapproving stare, before licking his lips and resuming his catnap. “Don’t worry. Your dibs are still intact,” I said, smiling at the girl. “Are you going to introduce me?”

  He took hold of the girl’s hand, squeezed it, and grinned. “This is my friend, Molly.”

  “Hi,” I said. “I’m Johnny, an older version of this dipshit.” I nodded at my brother.

  Molly managed to force out a barely audible hello, before Kendrick explained, “She needs a place to stay tonight.”

  “You mean you need a place to stick your dick.”

  “Hey! Watch your mouth. It’s not like that. Molly’s a friend.”

  “You don’t have girl friends.”

  “I do now.”

  Molly pulled her hand from Kendrick’s and fidgeted, nervously. “Perhaps I’d better go.”

  Kendrick laid a hand on her thigh. “You’re going nowhere,” he said.

  “I don’t want to intrude.”

  Something about the girl prodded my freak out cells. She looked too much of a mouse to be one of Kendrick’s usual no strings bimbos. And what was with her fucked-up face? Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as she looked, and Kendrick’s gentlemanly ruse was all a plan to get his leg over later. Yeah, that must be it, unless I didn’t know my brother as well as I thought I did.

  “Bollocks to that. Like I said, I’m fine with the sofa.”

  “She can take my bed. I’m sleeping out.” At least, that was the plan.

  “Again? Where this time?”

  “Same place.”

  “Have you developed a thing for spiders?”

  “No. For Cora.” I pulled a menu from under the telephone on Pappa’s table. “Should we order takeout? We can get extra for when Paps wakes up.”

  “Back up a second. What did you say?”

  Here we go. Take a deep breath, Johnny, and just come out with it. It’s not like you’re keeping it a secret. “I was with Cora, last night.”

  “What do you mean, with her?”

  “You need me to draw you a picture?”

  “Are you yanking my chain?”

  “Nope.”

  “I thought you were joking when you staked a claim.”

  “Never been more serious.”

  Kendrick’s creased brow ironed out as his lips curled to a smile. “My brother the perv.”

  “Says the guy who was checking her out, which, by the way, you can quit now.”

  “I admit she has a rocking body, but there’s a big difference between looking and touching.”

  “Yeah, there is,” I said with a huge grin.

  Kendrick’s mouth fell open. “Jesus, man, you’ve slammed her already, haven’t you?”

  “Well, we weren’t playing Monopoly.”

  “Are you out of your mind?”

  “Only if you count being crazy about her.”

  “Crazy’s right. What are you going to do now? Move in? Buy a sedan? Play daddy?”

  Talking about Cora only made me long to be with her. “Don’t be stupid. It’s too soon for that, but I really like her, man. I think I’ve found the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

  “Dude, I reckon you need your rocks feeling, but what do I know? Have your kicks, if you must, but don’t expect any double dates. I’ve my street cred to consider.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  I didn’t bother knocking, and I was about to call out Cora’s name when I heard voices in the living room. Her book club. Shit. I’d completely forgotten she would have visitors. Still, it couldn’t go on all night. I clicked the door latch into place, as quietly as possible, and tiptoed along the corridor to the kitchen to wait it out, but I’d forgotten about Cora’s open-plan layout and had to duck down behind the separating breakfast bar, before anyone saw me.

  On the table, numerous plates were laid out with tiny square sandwiches and miniature cakes. Cora had been busy. Four bottles of wine sat on the counter next to a cluster of empty glasses, and an enticing aroma drifted from the coffee machine. Despite wolfing down a twelve-inch pizza only an hour before, my stomach rumbled eagerly.

  “You were supposed to read the book, Sheila. Watching the film doesn’t count.” The voice belonged to Cora’s friend, Diane.

  “I know. I know. It’s no excuse, but I’ve just been so busy this week.”

  “Why? Have you found a lover?” Diane asked with a low drawl.

  “Unlike you, some of us have a husband and children. I don’t expect a single woman to understand the responsibilities that entails.”

  “And I don’t wish to.”

  “Perhaps we should take a break,” Cora suggested. “We can discuss the underlying themes to the story after we’ve had some refreshments.”

  Refreshments? Damn. Did that mean they’d be coming into the kitchen? I’d look a right Charlie, hiding on the floor, if that happened. If I was quick, I might have time to sneak back out of the door. I glanced down at the white shirt and black trousers I’d chosen to wear for the evening, and saw the opportunity to have some fun instead, so I crawled around the tiles on my hands and knees, pulled the tea towel from a hook near the sink, laid it over my arm, and grabbed a bottle of wine from the counter as I stood.

  “I’ll take that as my cue, ladies. Wine or coffee?”

  A circle of shocked faces stared over to me. The one seated next to Cora spoke. “You hired help, Cora? How very grandiose of you,” she said, looking me up and down.

  Cora’s mouth formed an O, but no words came out.

  With an aloof air, I strolled into the seating area and prised myself into the circle of bodies to place a handful of glasses on the coffee table.

  “This certainly adds spice to the evening,” another woman added, winking at me.

  I smiled back. “I’m just here to serve the refreshme
nts, madam.”

  “That’s a shame,” Diane said. “I’m a good tipper.”

  “Yeah, I bet you are,” I said through a half grin.

  An arm waved at the edge of my vision. “I’ll take some of what you’re offering, sweetie.”

  Jeez, the women were like a herd of hungry hippos waiting to devour me. Maybe, I hadn’t thought this through.

  As I poured more wine, Cora finally found her voice. “The usual nibbles are in the kitchen. Perhaps you’d like to help yourselves,” she said, speaking to the room. The women rose, and Cora smiled at each one as they passed by, before turning to me and whispering, “What are you doing here, Johnny?”

  “Don’t you want me to meet your friends?”

  “Eventually, perhaps, but not yet. It’s too soon,” she said through gritted teeth.

  “So I’m to be your dirty little secret?” I jiggled my eyebrows and sneakily kissed her cheek.

  She jumped and stole a quick glance at the women. She was safe. No one had noticed, but the woman I guessed to be Sheila—she was the only one not giving me sideways looks—was making her way back to the sofa, carrying a plate of sandwiches. I offered her a glass of wine and a smile.

  “Thank you,” she said. Yep. Her voice confirmed my suspicions. Definitely Sheila. She accepted the glass and sat down. “I saw Madeleine today, Cora.”

  A sudden chill filled the air. “And?”

  “I thought you might like to know.”

  “Why? I have no interest in that woman anymore.”

  Not wanting to be the third wheel in the conversation, I gave a cursory nod and left them alone, but I couldn’t help keeping one ear in the room.

  “Not even if she was with another man? One that wasn’t John. They looked pretty cosy.”

  “Try the brownies,” I said to the brunette at my side. “I personally recommend them.”

  “Well, if you insist,” she answered, looking up through her lashes and nibbling the side of her lip. I smiled weakly.

  “What are you getting at, Sheila?” Cora’s voice rose slightly.

  “Only that John might be available again … if you wanted him back, that is.”

  Fuck that. No way. He’d had his chance and blown it. Cora belonged to me now.

  “Why would I want that?”

  “You were happy before.”

  Was she?

  “I was … for a while, before he changed.”

  “You could be happy again.”

  “Not with a dirty, cheating scumbag.”

  That’s right, Cora. You tell it like it is.

  “Aw, come on. You’re not the solitary type. You need man to take care of.”

  She has one.

  “I have one,” Cora said in a matter-of-fact way that surprised me.

  I nodded to myself with more than a hint of satisfaction.

  “You do? You’ve been keeping that tasty piece of news a secret. Who is he?” Sheila asked.

  Diane shimmied past me and returned to her friends. “Is it Roger? I mean, I know you said the date didn’t work out, but I knew he’d be perfect for you.”

  “My goodness. No. It isn’t Roger.”

  “Who then?”

  “You don’t know him.”

  “Okay. When do we get to meet him?” Diane asked.

  Cora stole a glance in my direction. “It’s early days. Let’s just see how it goes.”

  “Why the secrecy? You know I’m going to get the juicy details from you eventually.”

  Cora caught my eye. “Could I possibly have a top up, please?”

  I made my way back to the sofa, as Sheila pointed to her plate. “Mmm, these are delicious. You’ll have to give me the recipe, Cora.” She smacked her lips as she rose from her chair and squeezed past me. “I think I’ll just get one more slice.”

  Diane bottom shuffled along the sofa and closed in on Cora. “Okay,” she spoke softly to Cora’s cheek. “Who he is can wait. Start with how hot his body is and what he does with it.”

  “Just because you enjoy telling me about your sex life doesn’t mean you get to know about mine,” Cora said.

  “Spoilsport.”

  “Excuse me, ladies.” I squeezed between them, to pour Cora’s wine and couldn’t resist giving her a cheeky wink. Her eyes smiled back, even though the corners of her mouth resisted.

  Diane gasped. “I saw that.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t play the innocent with me. I’m your best friend. I know you better than anyone, and I know men even better.” Diane looked up at me through narrowed eyes. “It’s you.” She whirled to face Cora again. “It is, isn’t it? It’s him! I should have been suspicious from the start. You’ve never hired help for one of our evenings before.”

  “His name’s Johnny.”

  I lifted the bottle in greeting. “Hi.”

  “Nice to meet you, Johnny, but let’s get serious.” She turned back to Cora. “You haven’t thought this through, darling. I’m all for you having another man in your life. Heck, I encouraged it. But Johnny is not that man. He’s barely grown into the description, yet. Look, I can imagine how it must feel to have someone so young and virile in your bed. It’s not as if it hasn’t been a fantasy of mine too, but he’s not relationship material. Life doesn’t work that way.”

  “Oh? How does life work, Diane? Is there a plan I should be following?”

  “I understand your fears. You’re pushing forty and you think you’re running out of time. It happens to all of us.”

  “You’re talking about me as if I’m a discarded woman, tossed on the junk heap of life like last year’s Gucci handbag.”

  “I happen to like vintage,” I cut in. “Just because there’s a newer model on the market, doesn’t mean it’s more useful or attractive. Beauty changes over time; it never lessens, and a classic model is a keeper.” The way Cora smiled at my words proved my point. I caught Diane with a challenging stare. “Stop trying to find problems where there aren’t any.”

  Diane’s voice rose along with her frustration. “Cora, you can’t recapture your youth by trawling the schoolyard for a date.”

  Over exaggerate much? “Do I look like a schoolboy?” I asked.

  Diane ignored my question, as Cora said, “Keep your voice down, Diane. I don’t want all the girls knowing yet, and I didn’t go trawling anywhere. In case you haven’t noticed, Johnny’s been working in the garden, and he pursued me.”

  “And you were flattered. Who wouldn’t have been?”

  “It’s more than that. I never thought I’d find someone who would make me feel like this. I have returned to the land of the living, which is what you’ve been pressing me for, for months. Can’t you just be happy for me?”

  “I would, if I thought for one second it wasn’t doomed. He’s going to leave you, darling. Maybe not tomorrow or next week, but someday, when he finds someone younger and more … flexible. Don’t think for a minute he won’t. Is that not something that’s ever entered your head?”

  I placed the bottle a little too heavily onto the coffee table. “Hey. I’m standing right here. Stop filling her head with ridiculous ideas.”

  “Please, Cora. Think this through. End it now, before he does, and hold on to a modicum of self-respect.”

  “You’re jealous. That’s it, isn’t it? All the men you date are stuffy and old.”

  Diane dismissed Cora’s comment with a shake of her head. “Johnny, let me ask you something. What do you see in Cora?”

  “Diane, that’s not fair. You don’t have to answer that, Johnny.”

  “No, it’s okay. I’ve got this.” I looked Diane square in the eye. “I admit, I first fell for her hot body, but she’s also kind, and gentle, and funny. She doesn’t take shit, but she does it with class. She looks after herself, and everyone else, and she’s exactly the sort of woman any man would be lucky to have.”

  “Precisely. Why should that be you?”

  “Because, despite your opinion, our love is real.
”

  Chapter Twenty

  I wiped the sweat from my forehead and stabbed the shovel into the earth. Cora was topping up her tan on a nearby lounger.

  Using the word love hadn’t been planned. Perhaps it was too soon to be mentioned, but it was how I felt, and once it was out there, there was no going back. A tingle still ran through me when I remembered Cora’s reaction. She hadn’t commented. Her sweet face had spoken for her, and I was convinced she would say the words, when she was ready.

  I looked over to her. She wriggled in her seat, looking anything but relaxed, chewing on her bottom lip and staring into a gin and tonic.

  Some of Nessie’s belongings had disappeared the previous day, while Cora was out jogging, but Nessie wasn’t answering the texts or calls Cora made, and if she didn’t stop worrying over her daughter’s absence, I’d soon be able to plant seeds in her frown lines. It felt as if everything was my fault, and I wished I could make it better. Why couldn’t Nessie just accept the situation, like her sister, Amy, had?

  “Have you tried calling Jess?” I asked, peeling off my T-shirt. Dang, the day was far too hot to be digging.

  Cora’s eyes grazed over my abs. “Do you think I should?”

  “It’s gotta be worth a shot.”

  “Yes. Yes, you’re right.” She placed her glass on the table beside her, picked up her phone, and tapped on the keypad.

  I returned my attention to the shovel, but couldn’t face picking it up again. It was time for a break, and on a day like this, there was only one kind. I stripped down to my boxers, took a run-up, and dived into the pool.

  Soft water rippled over my aching muscles, instantly cooling me to the core. In the blue of the underwater cocoon, life was clean and shiny and crammed with sparkles. If only it were really like that. When you’re starting out on life’s big fishing trip, no one tells you the freaking river of life is full of sewage and the weeds will try to pull you under.