The Other Guy: A Textdoor Neighbor Romance

by Van Wyk, Jennifer

  “Really? Like you’d not have your own anymore?”

  Shaking my head, I clarify and scoot over to the chair closer to him so I’m not yelling across the table. “I’d still have it and she’d still have hers. But we’d bring one together, too. We’d offer matching outfits since she makes stuff for babies and kids, and I make stuff for pets.”

  His eyes light up. “Like matching Halloween costumes or shit for holiday pictures?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Sierra. That’s awesome.”

  “I know! And… well, possibly we’d open up a little shop together. Until then, that “friend” of my uncle’s said I could sell some stuff in her store, you know?”

  He looks around nervously. “Wow. So you’re really planning to stick around, huh?”

  “Appears so?” I ask rather than say, a little worried now that I’ve been misreading the situation entirely.

  He winces. “I probably should have told you earlier… I’m actually married with fourteen kids. I left my family in our one room love nest in the mountains so I could come live the single life for a few weeks.”

  I open my mouth in shock and splay my hands out wide. “No way! When my husband got out of prison for murdering his own mother and brother because he caught them having sex and cheating on him, he offered to watch our kids so I could have some alone time. That’s actually what I’ve been doing here.”

  “How many?”

  “Twelve.”

  He scoffs. “Amateur.”

  “I know.” I nod sadly. “I’m actually pregnant right now.” My shoulders lift in a shrug as I place my hands on my stomach, pushing it out a little. “Hoping for triplets,” I say, crossing my fingers then chug down the rest of my beer.

  “Want a cigarette, too?”

  I wrinkle my nose. “I like to stick to smoking weed when I’m pregnant. Nicotine does funny things to me.”

  “Good woman.”

  We laugh hysterically and our waiter returns to see if we need refills. Jack declines, saying that he needs to drive us home and I figure switching to something non-alcoholic might be best if I’m going to ride a mechanical bull. I wasn’t really lying earlier about peeing my pants if I get drunk. We each order a Sprite and Jack tosses me a glare when he hands the waiter some cash even before he brings our drinks back.

  “Can’t let that shit happen again.”

  “Seriously, Jack. It is not a big deal.”

  “I know that. And I’m also not some dick who thinks a woman can’t hold her own. But treating you tonight is important to me. Even if it’s just buying your drinks and opening the doors, I want you to feel it.”

  “It?”

  “Cherished. Special. Wooed.”

  If that’s the same as swooning then I just about did it now. I can’t remember the last time someone cherished me. Aside from Uncle Kyle, that is.

  My body turns to mush and I relax against his side when he shifts our chairs so we can watch the mechanical bull together. I used to always scoff and make fun of those couples who’d slide into the same side of a booth and no one would join them. I’m eating all those words. There’s something to it, even though we’re on individual chairs rather than a booth seat. It’s cozy and a little romantic. Maybe it’s the knowledge that he wants me close or maybe it’s simply being close to him. Whatever the reason, I like it.

  “In all seriousness,” Jack says, his arm on the table in front of us, playing with my fingers. “I’m glad you met Mallory and I’m really glad you two got along well.”

  “Sierra Harthorn,” someone by the bull calls out.

  “Oh, shit. That’s me!”

  “It is. Good thing you told me your last name, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I mumble. “Good thing.”

  “Oh, come on. It’ll be fun. How about we make a wager? Who can stay on longer.”

  “No way. You’ll win. This is my first time and you’re probably an old pro.”

  “Pro? Not hardly.”

  I place my hands on my hips and stare up at him. So handsome as he smiles down, staring into my eyes. “What’s the wager?”

  He waggles his eyebrows. “Hmm. I can think of plenty that I want from you.”

  “Oh, really?” I sass, popping my hip out a little. “Like what?”

  His lips brush my ear, his hot breath ghosting across my sensitive skin. “Nothing appropriate to say out loud in public.”

  I like that more than I should. As evidence, my stomach clenches, my entire body quivers, and mouth goes dry. I want to shift and rub my legs together to alleviate the ache that’s already building. It always seems to be simmering at the surface when I’m around him.

  We walk over to the bull and the enthusiastic employee standing next to it, ready to put me through hell. I want to push her down and run away but I’m not going to. Because I’m strong and capable of mounting up on this bull and making a complete ass out of myself. Just like the fourteen people before me have done. And just like Jack will do after me.

  “Let’s do this.”

  “Go get ‘em, tiger,” Jack says with a gentle slap to my ass.

  I look over my shoulder at him and wink.

  I take a deep breath and listen carefully to the very (too short, if you ask me) list of instructions and climb on. Mount up. Straddle. Whatever. I get on the damn mechanical bull, stick my arm in the air, hold on for dear life with the other.

  The bull starts to move and I’m pretty sure I’m about to make this mechanical bull my bitch because this is way easier than I expected it to be. It’s a slow roll back and forth.

  Until…

  The slow is no longer part of the equation.

  And the back and forth is no longer the only direction. It’s twisting and turning and bucking and I’m sliding, sliding, sliding…

  I right myself up and try to rearrange myself but doing that and holding on at the same time is really, really, freaking hard. Like waaaay harder than it should be. I briefly wonder what Jack is thinking. He’s probably like well, looks like I’m gonna have to be on top forever and ever because this chick ain’t got what it takes and that shakes me up because I CAN BE ON TOP! I’m great on top. Just ask anyone!

  Or don’t.

  Because that’d be really weird.

  I keep bouncing around and my crotch jams into the front handle kind of hard and I wince because… well, ouch! How do guys do this?

  And then it picks up speed again. Of course it does, right? Like, why wouldn’t it? It’s apparently unacceptable for someone to just have a relaxing ride. It’s gotta be maniacal.

  But I manage just fine. Not really but I try my hardest, until I’m flat on my back on the cushioned mat below. I blink up at the ceiling and wonder how in the world that happened.

  Jack’s incredibly handsome and smiling face peers down at me, his arm extended to help me up. I hold on, laughing and happy, as he jerks me to standing and I pop up on a little hop.

  “How was it?”

  I raise up on my toes, wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “Awesome. Painful. Embarrassing. Hilarious.”

  “Sounds about right,” he says, squeezing me but stepping back. “My turn.”

  “Yes! Oh, I can’t wait. You’re going down.”

  He chuckles. “We never did decide what we were betting for.”

  “Oh, I think whatever you’re wanting from me is pretty well in line with what I want from you.”

  His eyes look impossibly darker when he leans down to kiss me. It’s absolutely more than what we should be doing inside a crowded bar, but I really don’t care.

  “We both win?”

  “As much fun as that would, I mean will be, I think we still need to come up with something. If I win, you cook for me. In nothing but an apron.”

  “Ditto.”

  I tsk him. “No imagination.”

  “Oh, I have imagination. Lots and lots of imagination,” he says lowly then starts kissing me again.

  “Hey! Love bir
ds! You’ve got a line and no one wants to see this!” someone shouts behind us.

  “Speak for yourself. They’re like a live porno.”

  “Oh, geesh.” I bury my head in Jack’s chest while he chuckles.

  “I’m gonna get this over with so we can get the fuck outta here.”

  “Yes, please.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  JACK

  I’d barely climbed off the bull before taking Sierra’s hand in mine and pulling her behind me through the crowded bar. After watching men ogle her all night, I’d had enough of sharing her with everyone else.

  Unfortunately, my hope to get home quickly is crushed by the amount of snow that’s currently falling from the sky.

  “Ugh, again?” she groans but doesn’t slow down. Luckily, she wore a pair of little boots that stop at her ankle and don’t have a high heel so she has no trouble keeping up with me.

  “I heard there was another storm coming. Guess this time the meteorologists were right.”

  I open the passenger door so Sierra can climb in and shuffle my way around the front.

  I heave myself into the driver’s seat and slam the door shut, shaking off the snowflakes from my hair. “Holy shit, it’s getting slick, too.”

  “Could be a fun drive.”

  “Yeah.”

  After we get onto the highway, the roads seem to be a little bit worse. There’s no path in the snow from cars or snow plows, but there’s a calmness from the quiet road. The music is turned low and Sierra is curled up in the passenger seat, our hands linked together and resting on the console.

  “I like you,” I tell her, feeling every bit of those simple words and more.

  Her fingers spasm a little and her head lulls to the side so she can look at me. I glance over but keep my eyes on the road.

  “I like you,” she replies.

  I smile and out of the corner of my eye see her smile as well.

  “Would it be forward if I told you that Uncle Kyle is taking care of Toby because I was hoping you asked me to stay the night?”

  “It would be absolutely in line with my thoughts.”

  “I didn’t bring a change of clothes.”

  “Good thing you won’t need them, then.”

  “Good thing,” she agrees with another squeeze of my fingers.

  “I’m starting to wonder if your uncle was on to something when he was telling us to drive fast and take chances,” I muse.

  “Mm hmm.” She shifts in her seat.

  I step on the gas as hard as I feel comfortable. My main concern is getting us back to my place safely. Once we get there, all bets are off. But we have to get there first.

  * * *

  The drive back takes an extra fifteen minutes and by the time I pull into the garage, shut the door behind us, and drag Sierra into my house, we’re both ready.

  During the ride, Sierra, apparently over having patience for us to get to my place, reached over, massaging my leg and allowing her hand to drift up my leg. Never touching where I wanted her most, but coming pretty damn close. Teasing and doing a good job at it.

  My knuckles turned white from my tight grip around the steering wheel and the muscles in my thighs bunched and flexed as I tried to remain cool and calm. Inside, a war was raging.

  Pull the Jeep over and take her.

  Don’t do that, dumbass, you’ll scare her off.

  She wants it just as badly as we do.

  She deserves more than a roadside romp.

  I growled her name in warning but she didn’t get the hint — or, rather, she didn’t care. She kept on doing what she was doing and I wasn’t hating it, even though it was distracting and I really needed to concentrate on driving, especially with the snowstorm.

  But all the minutes she spent touching me were like foreplay, setting a spark to a dry field. The flame built and built until we were panting. When the windows fogged up, I scolded her, though I don’t think she really fell for my bullshit.

  I don’t take the time to turn on light switches and neither does Sierra. Instead, we fly down the hallway, dropping our coats along the way. I push through my bedroom door, the knob hitting the wall with a loud thwack but it could punch a hole in my sheetrock for all I care. I can fix it later. Right now I have better things to worry about. She flips on the light as she follows and murmurs, “I wanna see.”

  “Good. Because I plan on staring at you for a while.”

  “A while?”

  “Hours.”

  “Oh my,” she breathes and starts stripping off her clothes. I stop her, wanting to do it myself but she bats my hands away, ripping her cardigan off and tossing it behind her. She shakes her head, her long dark hair swishing around her. “You do you. I’ll do me. This time. I don’t have the patience to wait longer.”

  I grin and whip my shirt off as she undoes the button on her jeans, watching in amusement as she tries to simultaneously remove her shoes and skintight pants at the same time. She falls on the floor with a thud but it doesn’t stop her mission. She quickly unzips the side of her boots, kicks them off then wiggles out of her jeans while I finish undressing as well.

  She works off her tank top and is standing before me, chest heaving in only a bra and underwear. There’s nothing particularly sexy about them. A black cotton bra and pink panties with black polka dots. For some reason, the simple combo does things to me. Way more than if she were in some skimpy lingerie that didn’t match who she is. I like the fact that top to toe, Sierra is who she is and she doesn’t feel the need to change that in front of me.

  “You’re gorgeous.”

  “You’ve seen me in less,” she reminds me.

  “Yeah, but that was different.”

  “How so?” she asks, walking to me. She lays soft hands on the bare skin of my waist and I swear I feel a zip of electricity shoot up my spine.

  She presses her lips to my chest and I let my forefingers slide under her bra straps. “Because then, we were friends.”

  “We aren’t friends now?”

  I can tell she’s both teasing and nervous when she asks. She wants me to admit to liking her more than friends just like I want to admit it.

  “I’m not a one and done guy, Sierra. This? It’s real for me.” I tug her close, our chests brushing against each other. “I’m not going to go out tomorrow and date someone else. If we spend the night together, it means something.”

  “It means something to me, too.”

  “Are you ready, though? I know it’s only been a few weeks since we met. A week since you left your ex. I don’t want to freak you out here and expect too much but I do want you to understand that I’m more than good with moving forward. But if you’re not, I can be patient. One date doesn’t mean… I’m talking in circles, aren’t I? Basically, I just want you to tell me if we need to step back.”

  “No.”

  “That simple?”

  “That simple,” she agrees. “It’s not as if I’m ready to move in together or declare love but I like what we have. You make me happy, Jack. And, you seem to get me and accept me for who I am. I like who I am when I’m hanging out with you. I don’t see a reason to step back or slow down but I like that you’re willing to wait. I like that you’re not expecting the world. It might sound strange, but I enjoy living with Kyle, too.”

  “I can’t tell you what it does to me to hear you say that I make you happy.”

  She smiles brightly and my stomach clenches.

  When she snuggles in closer, she kisses my chest again and brushes her cheek against my skin. “I didn’t feel for him the way I feel for you, Jack. I’m not saying that to make you feel better, or to downplay what he and I had. But we weren’t like this. I didn’t want to tear his clothes off or claim him in the middle of the bar so everyone would know he was taken. I didn’t really even care when I found out he was cheating on me. Until I met you, I never wanted to feel this way.”

  I know what she means but I still want to hear her say it. I trail a finge
r down her cheek and under her chin, lifting it so she’s looking me in the eye. “What way is that?”

  “This all-consuming, don’t want to put the person out of my head, can’t stop thinking about… guh, I don’t know. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s just in me. I like you differently than I’ve liked anyone before. It’s scary and exhilarating all at once.”

  “Remember when I said that maybe we’ve never felt it before because it only takes that one person?”

  She nods. “Yeah.”

  “I believe that. It wouldn’t feel, special, I guess, if it wasn’t unique. And it is. The way I think of you is unique to anyone else. That doesn’t mean we have to run blindly toward the finish line immediately. I like taking it slow.”

  “As long as taking it slow doesn’t mean we can’t have sex tonight, I’m good with it, too.”

  I bark out a laugh and lift her up, my forearms cradling under her butt.

  “Definitely not,” I mumble before taking her mouth in one of those all-consuming moments of passion she was just talking about. All night I stared at her, touched her, laughed with her, and smiled more than I’ve smiled in my entire life and all I could think was how badly I just wanted to get her alone. Now I have her and I can’t decide what I want to do with her first.

  I want to toss her on the bed.

  Taste and feel every inch of her body.

  Hear her pleasure.

  Watch as she comes apart.

  Let her scent wash over me.

  I want to spread her out underneath me.

  I want to feel her wrapped around me in every single way.

  I want to get lost in her.

  I want to be the man who she gets lost in.

  Who reminds her how very much she’s worth. Not just a friendship. But so much more than that.

  Over and over again.

  Once won’t be enough.

  I know it as well as I know the back of my own hand.

  “I don’t know what I want to do first,” I finally admit after I realize I’ve been staring down at her for long enough that she stares up at me in confusion.

  She taps her chin. “Hmm. So many options. And only all night long to go through them.”