The Other Guy: A Textdoor Neighbor Romance

by Van Wyk, Jennifer

  “Out of what?”

  “The road. I guess three people just got into an accident because of the ice and their vehicles are basically blocking his road. They slid down bam bam bam. But it’s fine! It’s fine. You can just drop me off at the top of the hill and I can…”

  “Slide down? In the rain and sleet?”

  “Um, yes?”

  “Sierra. Just stay here. I don’t have dog food but I’m sure we can find something for Toby. I have a spare bedroom you can stay in. I’m sure they’ll be able to get the cars cleaned up tomorrow.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.”

  “What about work?”

  “If the storm is as bad as they’re predicting, I won’t be opening the gym tomorrow. I keep my clients updated through text and my Facebook page.”

  “Oh.”

  I motion to her phone and then take it from her hand. “Kyle? Yeah, it’s Jack. Sierra can just spend the night here in my guest room. I promise I’ll be on my best behavior,” I add on and wink at her. She still looks a little nervous at the prospect of staying at my house.

  “I know you will,” Kyle says. “Thanks for keeping her safe. She’s, uh, been through a lot this week.”

  “I heard.”

  “You did?”

  “She mentioned that she and her boyfriend broke up.”

  He’s silent on the other end for just a few seconds then, “Yeah. She’s better off without him. Anyway, we’ll talk in the morning. Hopefully the roads will get cleared up and I can come get her.”

  “No worries. I can bring her home otherwise.”

  “I’m right here, you know!” she says jokingly.

  “Oh, I’ll always worry. But thank you, Jack. I trust you.”

  He shouldn’t. Just the thought of having her in my home all night, sleeping under the same roof, both of us naked… wait. No, not naked. Unless… nope. Can’t go there.

  “Thank you. Here’s Sierra.” I hand the phone back to her and note that she looks at me out of the corner of her eye before turning her back to me and saying something I can’t hear. Then she ends the call and turns around to look at me.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Of course. It’s not a big deal, Sierra.”

  “I know. I just feel bad. It’s like I’m in high school all over again and my parents are trying to figure out how to get me home.”

  “Nothing to feel bad about. I didn’t think this storm was supposed to hit us until later in the night.”

  “Yeah, me either,” she murmurs.

  “So… cheesecake?”

  Her smile is wide when she looks up nodding. “Yeah. Sounds delicious.”

  I pull it out of the freezer and put it on the counter to thaw. “Gotta let it set out for a bit before we can cut into it. Movie? Netflix? Prime?”

  “Mm hmm.” She hops up and takes a seat on the kitchen counter and if I thought she looked like she was comfortable in my house earlier curled up on my couch, I was wrong. Because right now, with her propped on the counter and one leg crossed over the other and her hair tumbling over her shoulders, she doesn’t just appear relaxed and comfortable... she belongs.

  Shit. I’m barreling way too fast right now and need to calm the fuck down. “Need a drink?” I know I do. A lot of them, actually. I grab a glass out of the cupboard and set it on the counter next to her before opening the fridge. Unfortunately for me, the proximity to her leg is way too close when the back of my hand grazes her thigh. She tenses and sucks in a breath. Shit, shit, shit. I really need to get laid. And I also really need to stop thinking about getting laid when Sierra’s around because I haven’t been attracted to a woman like this in… well, ever. Thinking with my dick definitely isn’t going to help any. “Water? Soda? Beer? Coffee? Hot chocolate? Tea? Lemonade? I might have a dusty old bottle of wine here somewhere that my sister left once upon a time. Whiskey? Maybe we need shots.” I press my lips together to stop myself from rambling.

  “Wow. What choices!”

  “Shut up,” I murmur.

  “And shots? Really? Is the prospect of spending the night with me so awful that you need to get drunk?”

  She pulls a face that looks sad but I see the sparkle in her eye. She’s full of shit.

  “Obviously. The idea of spending an entire evening with you requires a great deal of alcohol.”

  “Ditto.” She grins. “And for the record, Netflix and whiskey. It’s totally a Netflix and Chill kind of night.”

  I groan and drop my gaze to the floor. “Oh my damn, you didn’t just say that.”

  “I can’t help it! You got all nervous after you touched my leg and started rambling and listing off every drink you could think of.”

  “Well, excuse me, but it’s been a while since…” I’ve had a female in my house. That’s what I was about to say. But I stopped myself. Thankfully.

  “Since…?”

  “Nothing. So, shots?”

  Sierra’s eyes widen and she twirls a finger in the air. “I do believe we need something.”

  Yes. Definitely something. I give her a single nod. “Agree.”

  I grab the bottle of whiskey from the cupboard above the fridge and blow the dust off it, making Sierra laugh.

  She hops down and gets another glass from the cupboard and places it next to the other. “These are much larger than shot glasses.”

  “Thank goodness,” I joke as I take a hefty drink right from the bottle.

  “Right.”

  Her fingers graze mine when she reaches for the bottle, confirming my earlier suspicions about electricity when we touch. It zips up my arm and straight through my body landing solidly in my crotch. Her eyes widen and I know she feels it, too. Thank goodness I don’t speak that out loud because I would feel like a complete wuss. She tips it back and takes a large drink herself. Her tongue and lips. Right where mine just were. My pants are tight and I’m a teenager, apparently, not being able to control myself because a girl just drank from the same bottle as me. What the actual hell is wrong with me?

  Her body gives a little shudder and her tongue sticks out like she just tasted something disgusting. “Blech.”

  I chuckle. “Delicious, huh?”

  “Mmm. So delicious,” she moans and licks her lips making me think all sorts of things.

  I pour a couple fingers into each glass and lift mine up. “Should we do a toast?”

  She shakes her head rapidly. “Umm, no. No. Just… no.”

  “Want to take a moment to think about that?”

  “Is it possible for you to act like Jack?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Jack! You’re all stiff and weird. What’s up?” She takes a sip and pulls a face as she swallows hard.

  Stiff. If she only knew.

  “I am not.”

  “Are to. You’re all jacked up because I’m here, buddy. And I have you all out of sorts about that. Why is that, hmm?” She pokes me in the chest and I grab her finger.

  I don’t even answer her question. Instead, I just get stuck on her calling me a buddy for the second time tonight. Very interesting. “Buddy, huh?” I ask her, pulling her a few steps closer, my mouth now a breath from hers.

  “Mm hmm. My buddy Jack.”

  “Is that what helps? To think of me as a buddy?” My voice is low and husky and I look down at her lips when I notice her staring at mine. If she can, I can, right?

  Fair is fair.

  “Um. No? Yes? Maybe?”

  “Which one is it?” I ask, finally gaining my footing around this striking woman I have been fumbling my way in front of thus far. I place a hand on her bare shoulder and run my palm down her arm. She shivers under my touch and I smile.

  “Maybe?”

  “Are you asking me?”

  “What?” she asks, breathlessly.

  Toby makes himself known, nosing between us and interrupting the moment. I’m not sure if I’m grateful or want to put him ou
tside in the freezing rain.

  “H-h-hey there, boy,” Sierra stutters then slowly lowers herself so she’s face-to-face with him. “You need attention, too, huh?”

  She looks up at me and I don’t miss the desire in her eyes. It’s there. Unmistakable because I have no doubt mine look the same. Now what do I do about it?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SIERRA

  Bad whiskey. Bad. Bad. Bad.

  Why did I think it was smart to drink so much last night?

  I groan and place a hand on my forehead to stop my brain from exploding through my skull. I’m not so far gone that I don’t know where I’m at.

  Jack’s guest bedroom.

  Dark red sheets that smell clean and fresh.

  Toby nowhere to be found.

  I gingerly shift my feet onto the floor then unceremoniously slide off the bed, landing on my butt. Crawl across the floor, through the open door, down the short hallway to the bathroom.

  “How ya feeling?”

  “Dandy,” I grumble as I push my way into the bathroom.

  Jack laughs lowly. “Coffee is ready. Bacon, too.”

  “Toby?”

  “I got him.”

  I don’t respond as I shove the door shut behind me.

  The last time I drank as much as I did last night was when I turned twenty-one and thought I’d die the next day. I do my business and wash my hands. Then my face and brush my teeth. Gag a little bit but manage to hold back the vomit.

  I stare at myself in the mirror, at the dark smudges of mascara under my eyes and decide a second wash might do me some good. I splash cool water onto my face and shiver but feel a little better.

  I lift the collar of Jack’s t-shirt he let me wear to bed last night, bend my head low, and sniff. Sigh when I’m blessed with him. Allow myself one more deep inhale, closing my eyes to get the full effect of the spicy, musky, natural manly scent.

  “What is wrong with me?” I whisper, irritated with myself.

  Straightening, I tug down the hem of his t-shirt.

  Last night I fought every instinct I have not to climb him like a damn tree. Especially when my inhibitions were lowered because of alcohol. A lot of alcohol. After the almost kiss that Toby interrupted, I had equally hoped the moment wasn’t lost and prayed it was.

  Okay, maybe not equally, because I really wanted him to kiss me. The sexual energy was zipping and zagging between us so strongly that it was almost impossible to ignore.

  In all my twenty-seven years, I’ve never once felt this way about someone. This pull. I want to fall into his arms, curl up into his side on the couch, stretch out on his bed with my head resting on his chest, cook meals together and… nope. I can’t think that way. That’s wanting something more from Jack Cole than I can give him and that’s not fair to him. Jack doesn’t scream one-night stand, or even the stay together but never marry type.

  He wants it all.

  The house, wife, two point five kids.

  And that’s just not me.

  Sure, I want love, but that passionate crazy love that my parents had isn’t for me. I can’t allow that. It’s easier to have lukewarm feelings for someone because that’s safer. Easier. Might be a little more boring but that’s okay. At least my life wouldn’t be filled with highs and lows and screaming matches because our tempers are flaring. And those screaming matches turning into screaming of a different kind. It’s too much.

  No.

  I rest my hands on the sink and suck in air. I won’t allow something like that to happen.

  And Jack? While I don’t really see the screaming fights happening between us, I do see the other side of it. The side where we make up in grand fashion. Where we can’t keep our hands to ourselves. I felt it last night, and I never feel it. I avoid the spark and go for safe and mild.

  Raising my eyes to look in the mirror, I narrow them at the reflection. I’m a freaking liar if I think I can avoid something between Jack and me. Or that I want to. I’m also guilty for keeping a giant secret from him. I just don’t know how to tell him that I was living with the guy who was giving over a dozen women his number, cheating on me with every single one of them. It’s embarrassing and… well, mostly just that. He deserves to know but I can’t seem to find the right words. When I showed up here last night, I fully intended on telling him. That was the entire reason I came over, but then Toby made himself at home and Jack was looking like Jack, sweet and sexy and then we had whiskey. One would think that once the liquor started flowing, I would have told him. But it had the opposite effect.

  Fear rules my heart and my mouth, apparently.

  Fear that falling for a guy that I can’t stay away from will turn into something I can’t control.

  “Damn you,” I say quietly but I’m not sure if I’m saying it to myself or Jack or my parents for raising me in such a fucked up marriage.

  I push off the sink and throw my shoulders back, resolved that I can handle this. Whatever this is between Jack and me. I. Can. Handle. It.

  I’ve got it.

  I walk around the corner and follow the scent of coffee and bacon into the kitchen and stop in my tracks.

  Jack is in the same pair of gray sweatpants he was wearing last night.

  Bare feet.

  But this time he’s not wearing a shirt. And, holy shit, boxing does a body good. My mouth goes dry as my eyes feast on every inch of bare skin he’s blessing me with. Abs made of ripples and biceps that are bulging but not so much that they look like he’s been on steroids. And his back? Why is a man’s back so sexy? Muscles. That’s why.

  His hair is damp, combed away from his face. A smattering of dark facial hair covers his jaw and I have the absolutely insane desire to feel the scratchiness against my most tender places.

  Toby is sitting perfectly still in front of him, staring up at Jack and paying close attention. I don’t blame him. If I was in Toby’s place, I don’t think I could take my eyes off him, either.

  “Shake.”

  Toby immediately lifts a paw and drops it into Jack’s hand. Toby’s rewarded with a small piece of bacon.

  My jaw drops.

  I’ve been trying to teach him commands since I moved in with Jeff but he wouldn’t listen to anything I told him. Sit? He’d just cock his head to the side and stare at me like I was speaking a foreign language.

  “What sorcery is this?”

  At my voice, Toby and Jack both turn to face me. Toby with his tongue hanging out of his mouth but I’m pretty sure it’s because of his new favorite person rather than me. I don’t blame him. I wish I’d have checked to make sure I wasn’t suddenly drooling before I brought attention to me.

  Jack smiles and gestures to Toby. “He’s a quick learner.”

  I scoff. “No, he’s not. I’ve been working with him and he stares at me like I’m stupid.”

  “Maybe you’re just not doing it right. Come here.”

  Probably not a good idea for me to be listening to his commands but apparently I’m a slut just like Toby is. My feet carry me quickly over to the duo and Jack pulls me in front of him. Oh, this isn’t good. My entire body tingles and I really wish I was wearing pants. I feel his chest brush up against my back as he reaches around me for another small piece of bacon and hands it to me.

  “Now, you need to speak firmly. If you’re weak, he knows he’s the master. And don’t give in quickly and give him a treat for a good try.”

  “I would never!” I say, turning my head to look at him. He just gives me a knowing grin and placates me with a, “Sure. Whatever you say.”

  I roll my eyes and turn to face Toby.

  “Lift the treat, show him what he could get out of the deal.”

  I do as I’m told and Toby’s tail starts wagging.

  “Now, give him the command.”

  “Shake.”

  Swear Toby, the little traitor, looks at Jack first. Either for permission or to make sure that the command is coming from someone he respects. Then he lifts his paw a
nd places it in my hand and I give him a little shake before giving him his reward.

  “Good boy, Toby! Good boy!”

  He excitedly kisses my cheek before ignoring me once again and moving to Jack to make sure that Jack saw his job well done.

  “Good boy,” he croons and they place their foreheads together.

  “What the hell is all this?” I ask, jealously. “Toby only likes me.”

  “Not anymore,” Jack says cockily then winks at me before turning his attention back to Toby. “We men gotta stick together, right, buddy?”

  Then Jack lifts his fist and not even lying when I say that Toby lifts his paw and gives him a fist bump.

  “Did I wake up in an alternate universe?”

  “No. But you did wake up to a massive snowpocalypse.” He points to the window in his dining room and I gasp.

  I go to stand next to the window that I can barely see out of because the snow is so deep. “Uh.”

  He stands next to me and now that I’m not distracted by Toby, all I smell is him and the big old inhales I was taking of his shirt earlier didn’t do it justice. He smells divine. That same spicy scent but now it’s mixed with coffee and bacon and the clean scent of his soap. I almost groan. “That was my reaction, too.”

  Crap. Did I just groan? “When did this happen?”

  “Apparently while we were sleeping? Or maybe when we were polishing off that bottle of whiskey?”

  “Shit. Jack! What are we gonna do?”

  He shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “We’re stuck inside for the day. Maybe tomorrow because more snow is coming and the plows can’t really keep up.”

  “I can’t be stuck here!”

  “Why is that?” he asks, crossing his sexy arms over his sexy chest and giving me a sexy look. I narrow my eyes in response.

  “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?” Oh, he’s so innocent. Right. It’s not like I can really do the same thing to him aside from pull up the hem of his t-shirt. I’m not wearing a bra so I don’t really want to bring attention to my nipples that would betray me through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

  Why didn’t I think about putting my clothes back on? Or at the very least a bra?