Dirty Neighbor (The Dirty Suburbs)

by Miller,Cassie-Ann L.

  Isla married Zayn Wilkinson straight out of high school. To the outside world, they looked like the perfect couple, until it abruptly came crashing down last winter. She and I don’t talk about it, but the subject is always there in the background, ghosting her words and adding morbid undertones to every conversation.

  Luckily, I’m saved by a knock at the door. Blakely, Isla’s younger sister and trusty assistant, sticks her head into the office, a rush of fiery red curls spilling across her face. She speaks in a hushed voice. “Hey, sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Byrne is here for his massage and he insists on having you.”

  Isla looks at the documents on her desk and slaps her hand to her forehead. “Shit – we haven’t even started looking at this mess yet, have we?”

  I give her a reassuring smile, all too happy to put an end to our little, off-topic meeting. “Let me take this stuff home. I’ll look it over and we can chat about it over the phone.”

  She looks at me with relief on her face. “That’s an awesome idea.” She turns to Blakely. “Can you help Sammie organize this stuff and give her a ride home?”

  Blakely nods, stepping into the room. Isla tosses her the car keys before rounding her desk and popping a kiss against my forehead. “I owe you, Sammie.” She says as she rushes out.

  I laugh. “Just stop talking to me about Keeland and we’re even.”

  Chapter 27

  I’m raking the leaves from Sammie’s front lawn when she climbs out of Isla’s car. When I see her struggling with the hefty bag she pulls from the backseat, I hurry down the walkway to help her.

  “Hey there,” I say as I snatch the load from her hands.

  She looks up at me with suspicious eyes. “Hey.” She glances past me to the pile of leaves on the lawn and back to me again.

  Ignoring her wary expression and whatever nonsense is probably brewing in her head, I lean into the car. “Hey Blakely. How’s it going?” I say brightly.

  The shy redhead turns to me with timid, green eyes. “Hey Keeland. I’m fine.” She purses her lips and dimples pop up on her freckled cheeks.

  “See you in hatha class on Wednesday?” I say with a small salute.

  “Sure thing.” She blinks away coyly as I turn back towards the house. When Blakely peels away from the curb a moment later, Sammie follows me up the walkway.

  “Why are you raking my lawn?” she asks cautiously.

  I shrug my shoulders as I climb the stairs and stand aside for her to unlock the door. “I was raking mine and noticed that yours was a mess.”

  She narrows her eyes at me, then stares out at the driveway. First, it’s confusion that registers on her face. Then, it’s pure panic. “Where’s my car?” she shrieks. “Oh my god! Somebody stole my car.” She gallops down the stairs and into the spot where her broken-down Prius had been sitting since it sputtered out on her. Now, all that’s left is a thick, black oil stain.

  “Relax,” I say calmly from the front porch. “I got it towed to the mechanic shop. You’ll get it back in a few days.” I’d tried to fix it myself but – I’m not fooling anybody – cars aren’t really my thing. I didn’t want to make the problem any worse by tinkering with it so I decided to let the professionals handle it.

  Sammie gasps so hard that she might have popped a rib. “You sent it to the mechanic shop?!” She marches right up to me. “I can’t afford to get it fixed right now. You haven’t paid me yet. How am I supposed to pay the mechanic?”

  “I’ve got you covered,” I say with a wink. “It’s all paid for. And as for your remuneration –” I slip my hand into the back pocket of my jeans and hand her a check. “—here you go.”

  She glances down at it and her eyes form big ‘O’s. “I can’t accept this, Keeland,” she whispers. “It’s way more than we agreed to…”

  “I decided to give you a raise. I’m the boss. It’s my prerogative.”

  “Don’t make this…complicated, Keeland.”

  “Would you let me do something nice for you, Samantha? Sheesh!”

  She pouts and hooks her hand on her hip.

  “Well, you can at least say ‘thanks’.”

  She lifts her eyes to me. “Thanks,” she says begrudgingly. Then, she grabs her bag out of my hand and steps in through the door. I can tell that she’s trying her best not to like me right now…and she’s failing.

  “Have a nice day, Sammie,” I say with a smirk.

  She just glares at me right before she slams the door in my face.

  Chapter 28

  “Man – this is even better than I remember,” I moan as I shovel another forkful of poutine into my mouth.

  Billy’s Burger is, was and shall always be the shit. It was one of our main hangouts in high school and I can’t believe it took me this long to swing by after getting back to Reyfield. When I walked through the front door, I didn’t even have to place my order. The owner, Billy Jenkins, just looked over at me and yelped over his shoulder for a large poutine with onion rings, secret-sauce burger and a Mountain Dew.

  “I bet they don’t serve this shit in jail,” Daniel says with a laugh as he takes a swallow of his soda before picking up his burger.

  I chuckle at his joke but the comment is a reminder of my past, which is the very last thing I want to think about right now. I decide to change the subject. “So, how’s family life, man? What’s going on at home?”

  Daniel blows out a loaded breath and shoves his empty paper plate aside. “I love my wife but I swear to you, man, this marriage thing is hard.”

  “So I’ve heard,” I say with a cocked eyebrow as I shove my last onion ring into my mouth.

  “I work hard all day. I get home most nights and I’m too tired to even have dinner. I just wanna crash. That’s how tired I am. But she tries to bite my head off the minute I walk through the door. It’s exhausting.” Daniel looks ten years older as he speaks.

  “It can’t be all bad,” I say sympathetically as I wipe my fingers on a napkin.

  He shakes his head. “You see, that’s the thing. She drives me crazy, but I’m crazy about her. Watching her sitting in bed with her nerdy glasses on, cuddled up with her Kindle or watching her playing with our baby – that’s the woman I feel in love with. But the two-headed monster she turns into whenever she has to deal with me? I don’t know that person.”

  I feel for him but what can I say? I’ve never been married. And looking at him right now, I can’t say I regret that. It’s a good thing that I found out that Rhys was a no-good, lying tramp before she strutted her deceitful ass down the aisle.

  Just then, Billy shows up at our table with two enormous slices of dessert. “Chestnut wafer topped chocolate cake drizzled with salted caramel. On the house. To welcome Master Kee back to town.”

  I offer him a lopsided smile. “Aww man. I appreciate that,” I say bumping knuckles with him.

  “Think nothing of it. We’re just glad you’re back. Hopefully, to stay.”

  Daniel frowns at him. “Hey Billy, how come you don’t hand out chocolate cake to celebrate me?” he says with mock offense. “I’m here all the time.”

  “Maybe if you left town for a few years, we’d have something special for ya,” the man says teasingly before shoving Daniel jokingly in the shoulder.

  “Whatever,” Daniel mutters as he sticks his fork into the cake and takes a bite. Billy quickly disappears back into the kitchen.

  One taste is enough to convince me that this is the best damn dessert I’ve ever had. I gobble it up in just a few bites before calling the waitress over to order another hug slice to go.

  Daniel looks at me incredulously. “You’re gonna eat all that?”

  “Nah,” I say with a laugh. “This is for Sammie. I think she’d like it.”

  I regret the words as soon as I see how Daniel’s eyes narrow in on my face. “For Sammie?”

  I swallow. “Yeah,” I say with a casual shrug. “Gotta keep my employees happy.”

  Daniel is silent, studying me as I pull a few bil
ls from my wallet to cover the meal and a generous tip. “Hey man, you remember what I told you about my sister,” he growls, his face red now. “She’s off-limits.”

  I wave him off in a casual motion. “Of course,” I say as calmly as I can muster. “You don’t have to remind me.” The guilt tastes acidic at the back of my throat.

  “Good,” he says as he pushes his chair away from the table and stands. He glances at his watch. “Gotta be in court in an hour and a half. I’m gonna get going.”

  “Yeah man,” I say. “It was good hanging out.”

  He nods and gives me a stiff smile before he heads out the door.

  This isn’t going to end well. I know that with every fiber of my being.

  Chapter 29

  My eyes flutter open as I stretch and roll over in bed. Keeland is gone. A rush of disappointment surges in me at the realization.

  It’s not like I miss him or anything. Hell no. Not at all. I swear.

  No, I mean it. I’m serious.

  It’s just that last night, he’d showed up with chocolate cake. When I’d refused to eat it, claiming to be on a diet, he’d smeared it all over my naked breasts and eaten it off, lick by lick.

  #FunTimes

  I was hoping that there’d be some more of that this morning. Oh, well.

  I roll over to get out of bed and my fingers brush up against a piece of paper lying on top of the sheets next to me. I pick it up and squint up at it. That’s when I lose my breath.

  It’s a portrait of me, drawn on the back of an old envelope with blue ink. I’m lying on my side with my eyes closed, a peaceful smile settled on my lips. The blankets are draped around my waist and my breasts are completely exposed. But it doesn’t look vulgar or crass. It’s beautiful and almost innocent.

  My stomach is doing crazy stuff, my cheeks are blushing hot and I’m grinning wide as I pad into the bathroom, holding the drawing to my chest.

  Chapter 30

  “You’ve got to let me do my work,” I say, fighting back a smile as Keeland leans down over the back of my chair and trails his teeth up my sensitive neck.

  “Your job description has officially been modified. Screw keeping my books and handling my accounting. Your new tasks are giving me blowjobs and sitting on my face. How does that sound?”

  “Sounds a whole lot like prostitution,” I say with a throaty laugh.

  He sighs heavily, shaking his head as he pulls out the chair next to me and takes a seat. “Sammie, Sammie, Sammie. Why must you put labels on everything?” He says joking.

  But in all seriousness, I like labels.

  Labels help you keep things organized. Labels tell you exactly what you have in front of you. And I'm starting to feel like what Keeland and I have going needs a label sooner rather than later because I'm starting to feel a bit messy on the inside.

  I've fallen asleep with my head on his shoulder three nights this week and I've woken up with him tangled in the sheets next to me just as many times. And while I'm definitely not interested in being this man's girlfriend, I think it's time we talk about expectations.

  I look across the table at him. “What? What are you thinking, Sammie?” He asks warily.

  I shrug and focus on the spreadsheets in front of me. I’ve been a bit immature in my interactions with Keeland. I know this. Maybe it’s time to just face our situation head on and have an adult conversation about it. “It’s just — we haven't talked about — I just don't know where we stand.”

  His eyebrows inch up and he shoves a tense hand through his hair. “Oh?” he says, apprehensively.

  Panic lights flash in my brain. I can see it on his face – I’m this close to making our situation complicated. I need to make it clear that I want this to remain simple. “I think we should just keep this casual.” The words spill out of my mouth.

  I won't allow myself to get attached to him again only to have him walk out, dragging my heart along with him.

  When I finally find the courage to look up at him, those electric blue irises are trained straight on my face. For a second, it looks like it might be disappointment shining in his eyes, but then he says, “Yeah, yeah. Casual is great. Sure.” He scrubs his hand along his stubble.

  “Yeah, casual is perfect,” I agree with an overly enthusiastic nod, “and we have to be careful because if Daniel finds out…”

  He nods, too. “Yeah, if Daniel finds out…”

  We sit there and just stare at each other a while.

  I'm the one to break the awkward silence. “So, maybe I should get back to work.” I pull a stack of papers in front of me.”

  Keeland pushes his chair away from the table. “Yeah. I'll get going.”

  “Yeah.” I keep my eyes on the document instead of allowing myself to watch him leave.

  He opens the back door then turns back to me. “I'll see you tomorrow?”

  When I glance up at him for a second it almost feels like he's waiting for an invitation to come back later and spend the night. But then he gives me his trademark cocky grin and I know there's no innuendo in his statement.

  Almost immediately, my insides wrench at the idea of spending the night without him. Don't be silly, stupid girl. All those years when he was away, you were fine. Don't start acting needy.

  I give him my brightest smile. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

  And with that he's out the door.

  Chapter 31

  I feel like Sammie needs some space. And maybe I do, too. That’s why I’m leaning against the kitchen sink, flipping through last spring’s Master Ink tattoo catalogue when I’d rather be with her, inside of her, now. Admiring the beautiful inkwork is helping to keep my mind off of the hot-as-hell girl next door.

  I’ve kept away for two days and it’s driving me crazy but I just need some time to cool off before I go over there again. Things are getting a little intense between us. She says that she wants to keep things casual so I need to take a step back – bringing her breakfast, tending to her lawn, fixing her car – I’ve been getting a little carried away.

  But can you blame me? The girl is addicting. The sparkle of her smile. The smell of her skin. Even the frown that’s always on her forehead. There's something about Samantha Trotten that could make a man fall head over heels for her and I’m fighting like hell not to be that man.

  I only hope it’s not too late because what I feel for Sammie is anything but casual.

  I’ve got to get myself in check before I embarrass the fuck out of myself, or worse, get hurt. I did not come to Reyfield to fall in love. I came to clear my head.

  I’m not saying that I can’t fuck her till she clutches the sheets, screaming my name as she has one orgasm after another. I’ve just got to keep my head on straight through it all.

  I turn the tiny, wall-mounted kitchen TV to the sports network and a group of talking heads make a bunch of noise about last night’s football game. That’s when I hear the doorbell. I’m not expecting anybody, so I take my time going to answer. But when I glance through the peephole, I see Sammie standing on the front stoop, red-faced and wiping her tiny little nose.

  I swing the door open. “Hey. What’s up?” I move aside and let her come in.

  “Ahhh! Warmth!” she exclaims, rubbing her hands together as she steps into the foyer. She yanks off her ridiculous fur-lined ushanka and thick, wool mittens.

  “What’s up with you? Heater broken?” I ask as I help her take off her heavy coat and hang it on the rack by the door.

  “A pipe burst in the basement two days ago and since my brother is a slumlord, he hasn’t sent anyone over to fix it.”

  “Whoa, are you okay?” I ask. “How’ve you been holding up over there?” The snow came back overnight and the temperature dropped to below freezing. It’s unseasonably cold this year and, although it’s still technically fall, it looks like the snow might be here to stay.

  “I set up the fireplace last night, so I was fine, but right now, I need a warm drink. Do you have any coffee? Tea?
I’m all out.”

  I can think of something extra warm for her to put in her mouth, but it might be a little inappropriate to suggest that right now since she honest-to-god looks like she might be a blink away from hypothermia.

  “Jeeze, Sammie. You should have come over sooner. Why the hell did you stay over there till you were hanging between life and death?”