Neanderthal Next Door: Enemies to Lovers, Mountain Man Next-Door, Halloween Romance

by K. C. Crowne

  His expression fell, nervous about the idea of starting new someplace else.

  “Come on,” I said, taking his hand. “Let’s go.”

  Moments later we were in the car, Parker strapped in to his booster in the back seat. I drove away from the cabin and onto the main road into town.

  “What if they’re all mean?” Parker asked, expressing his fears.

  “They’re not going to be mean,” I said. “They’ll be totally normal boys and girls like you.”

  “What if they think I’m weird?”

  “They are not going to think you’re weird.”

  He was clearly frustrated about something and scrunched up his face for a long moment before letting it out. “Why do we have to live in the woods?”

  “This is family property, and it’ll be good to be away from the city.”

  The answer clearly wasn’t good enough for him. He folded his arms over his little chest and pouted. I wanted to correct his behavior, or at the very least reassure him, but before I got a chance a massive black truck whipped onto the road from one of the side paths.

  “Hey!” I shouted as the truck cut me off, dust flying up into the air from its tires. “Freaking jerk!”

  I slammed on the horn, the blare cutting through the quiet of the forest. And as the truck turned, I got a glimpse of the man at the wheel.

  He was huge – that was the first thing I noticed. Even in a big truck like that he looked crammed into the seat. He was dressed in flannel, a massive arm hanging out of the open window. His face, from what I could see, was framed by shaggy dark hair and a beard.

  But those eyes. He glanced at me, his eyes locking with mine for a moment that was brief but long enough to take my breath away. His eyes were a sharp, cutting blue, striking and brilliant.

  The moment ended as quickly as it began. He pulled out onto the road and disappeared into the woods.

  “Wow,” Parker said, clearly impressed. “Who was that guy?”

  “A real jerk,” I grouched. “Who didn’t seem to give a darn if there was a kid in the car he just cut off.”

  “That truck was cool,” Parker remarked, unconcerned by the inconsiderate driving he’d just witnessed. “You should get a truck like that!”

  I chuckled. “Trucks like that are for people who need them. I don’t need one.”

  “What do you think that guy does?” he asked. “For his job?”

  The man had left an impression on Parker. As annoyed as I was about the guy’s asshole driving, it was cute how the bearded mountain man had lit up Parker’s imagination.

  “I bet he cuts trees down,” Parker guessed, not waiting for me to offer my opinion. “He was really big – he could probably just grab and be like, argh!” He wrapped his arms around an invisible tree in front of him and, with a fierce expression on his face, pulled it out of the ground. “Like that!”

  Bolstered by my laughter, Parker painted his picture, spinning a whole world about the bearded guy until we pulled in front of the red brick school building. Yellow school busses were parked at the curb, letting throngs students out to make their way up the stone stairs. Teachers were posted on the sides, watching the children and greeting them warmly.

  “Alright, buddy,” I said, opening the back door for him. “Are you ready?”

  Parked watched the procession, a trace of fear on his sweet face. “Um, yeah. I’m ready.”

  He climbed out of the parked car, and I walked him to the door. I’d registered him the week before, and we’d met his teacher, who I saw standing near the door with a growing group of children around her. I stopped and knelt beside him.

  “You see your teacher?” I asked, pointing. He nodded. “Remember her name?”

  “Ms. Trammel.”

  “That’s right, and remember how nice she was the other day?” He nodded again, a little smile on his face when she noticed us and waved at him. He lifted his little hand and returned the wave, and I couldn’t help myself. I opened my arms and pulled him into a tight hug.

  “M-om!” he squealed, squirming out of my grip.

  I gave him one more squeeze before letting him go. “Love you, buddy,” I said. “I’ll be here to pick you up at three, okay?”

  He looked back at me and smiled sweetly. “Okay. Love you, too.” He turned and went toward the entrance, disappearing among the crowds of kids surrounding Ms. Trammel.

  The moment I lost sight of him, cold fingers wrapped themselves around my heart. I knew he was in good hands, but that didn’t make it any easier. Tears formed in my eyes. As quickly as I could while still being safe, I hurried to my car and pulled away from the school. I parked on the side of the road and started to cry.

  I couldn’t help it. Starting new, just Parker and me in a place I hadn’t been in years and doing it without Michael…it was hard. So freaking hard. But if I was going to cry, I had to do it away from Parker. If I was going to hurt, that was one thing. However, I had to be strong for him.

  I checked my phone when a text from Lizzie popped on the screen.

  Slow morning! Come by! And bring donuts!

  Her text put a smile on my face. My new life wasn’t all rough, of course. I had my best friend and my mom in town.

  Just dropped Parker off. Be there in a few.

  When I was ready, I wiped my eyes and took a deep breath, checking my reflection in the mirror to make sure it wasn’t too obvious that’d I’d been crying. Then I pulled off and drove into town.

  Lizzie’s store, The Little Shop on the Corner, was, as the name suggested, on the corner of Main Street and one of the other larger roads in town. Paul’s, the donut shop, was right next to it. I parked, went into Paul’s and ordered a dozen donuts and some coffees, and carried them to Lizzie’s.

  The bell chimed as I stepped into the store. I’d only been to Lizzie’s shop once before, but I loved it. It was a general knick-knack shop specializing in antiques and old furniture. It was quaint and cozy and exactly the sort of shop you missed in big cities like San Diego.

  And she was totally in the Halloween spirit. Skeletons and witches and pumpkins were everywhere. Lizzie had always loved Halloween, ever since we were kids.

  “Is that you?” Lizzie asked, her voice carrying through the winding aisles of antiques.

  “It’s me! Where are you?”

  “Looking for Marlon!”

  I didn’t get a chance to ask who Marlon was before a big, fat, orange cat zipped across my feet. He let out a quick meow as he did, as if trying to tell me to get the heck out of his way. I nearly launched the donuts and coffee out of my hands.

  Lizzie stuck her head out from behind a fancy lamp, an expression of pure determination on her face. “Was that him? Did you see him?”

  “I saw him, alright.”

  Lizzie flew past me, also nearly knocking over my donuts and coffee. “There you are!” she cried once she was around the next corner. “Come here, fatty!”

  A feline snarl echoed through the store, and then Lizzie appeared with Marlon in her arms. The big, fluffy cat did not want to be held.

  “Come on,” Lizzie said to me. “Have to do something first. Bring those.”

  She glanced at the donuts as she hurried past. Moments later I was with her at the counter. Marlon was still in her arms yowling as if she were squeezing the life out of him. Lizzie opened a pill bottle, then flipped open the donut box and snatched up a glazed. The two things in hand, she ripped off a chunk of the glazed donut and held it in front of Marlon.

  To my surprise, the cat calmed down instantly, opening his mouth and chomping down on the donut – pill inside.

  “Alright,” she said, watching him eat. “Not so bad, right?”

  Once the food was down the hatch, Marlon started purring. Lizzie set the cat down, and he disappeared among the wares.

  “When I got a store cat, I thought it’d be cute, you know? And he is, sure. But man, nothing like spending an hour chasing him down for his heartworm medication.”


  “What’s with the donuts?” I asked, smiling.

  “Paul’s Famous Glazed,” she announced, picking up the donut she’d torn a chunk out of and popping the rest in her mouth. “They don’t just work on humans.”

  I took a long john and bit into it, moaning. “God, these are just as good as I remember when I was a kid.”

  “No kidding,” Lizzie agreed with a full mouth. She turned on the nearby stereo, 70’s R&B wafting from the speakers. “Anyway, how was Parker this morning? Everything go okay at drop off?”

  “It was good,” I said. “I mean…”

  “You miss him,” she sympathized. “I can tell.”

  “Of course, I do,” I said, wiping off my fingers and picking up my coffee cup. “The kid’s the reason I get up in the morning.”

  “Well, you’re not making it any easier for yourself by not having a job. I know you’ve got Michael’s insurance and his investments to live off, but you don’t need me to tell you that it’s not going to be good for your brain to bum around that cabin all day, checking the clock for when it’s time to pick up Parker.”

  “I mean…I’ve got plenty of stuff to do around there.”

  She smiled. “Come on – only so much streaming TV you can watch. And I don’t even want to guess what kind of internet reception you get up there.”

  “That was kind of the whole point,” I said. “To be cut off from the world.”

  Her smile faded. “I get that,” she said. “I really do. But you’re back home, remember? This isn’t just about you starting fresh. It’s about reconnecting with your past, being part of the town you left behind.”

  “So, what are you saying?” I narrowed my eyes at her.

  She grinned, sweeping her hand toward the store and nearly knocking over the antique lamp on her counter. “Oops,” she said, grabbing and steadying it. “Come work here!”

  “Are you serious? Work here?” I scoffed. “I don’t know anything about antiques.”

  Lizzie waved her hand through the air and let out a pssh. “You don’t need to know about anything like that. You’ve got good taste, and that’s what matters. All you’d be doing is manning the register and going over the books – I know you’ve got an eye for numbers.”

  I shifted my weight from foot to foot, not sure what to say. “I don’t know if I’m ready to be around people all the time.”

  “You’ll be fine. Just a part-time gig while you get your feet on the ground. And you don’t have to work here forever.”

  “I don’t know…” I repeated, biting my lip.

  She clasped her hands together, making a pretend begging gesture. “Come on,” she pleaded. “It’ll be fun. You can run your errands in the morning, come in for the slow afternoon shift, and then go pick up Parker. It’s perfect and you know it.”

  Part of me wanted to say yes, but I’d been back for such a short time that jumping into employment, even at my best friend’s place, seemed like too big of a step.

  “Let me think about –”

  “Perfect!” she said, cutting me off. “You start tomorrow. Now, the orientation process is very rigorous – corporate doesn’t slack when it comes to this stuff. So get here bright and early.”

  I laughed, couldn’t help it.

  “Seriously,” she said. “Come in for lunch and I’ll show you the ropes. Trust me – you’ll be glad you did it.”

  The urge to protest was still there, but she was so insistent. And more than that, she was probably right.

  “Alright, alright,” I finally agreed, rolling my eyes.

  “Yes,” she replied, clasping her hands together. “We’re going to have so much fun!”

  I took another bite of my long john, catching sight of the time on my watch. “Shoot,” I said. “I’ve got a million things to do today to get the house in order. Want to come by for dinner later?”

  “I’ll do you one better and pick up some burgers and shakes from the Red Kettle – something tells me Parker’s going to be in the mood for a treat.”

  “Good call,” I said. “See you then.”

  I grabbed my coffee and a glazed for the road and gave Marlon a pet on the way out. When I stepped back outside, the temperature had dropped and the sky was a deeper shade of gray. I pulled my coat tighter before taking a sip of my coffee and hurrying my car. Once inside, I got moving, juggling my coffee and donut and the steering wheel as I pulled out of the lot.

  I was so careless about the whole thing that I didn’t even notice the massive, black truck flying down the road toward me.

  “Shoot!” I cried out, dropping my donut on the seat and grabbing the wheel.

  But it was too late. I didn’t hit the brakes in time, my car backing up into the side of the truck right at the exact moment he passed. The sound of crumpling metal filled the air, followed by tires squealing to a halt.

  Fuck.

  Both my car and the truck stopped, the smell of burning rubber seeping into the cracked driver’s side window.

  Thankfully, I managed to not spill my coffee all over my coat. After taking a few deep breaths, I put my car in park, set down my coffee, and got out.

  And of all the people in town who I could’ve gotten into a fender-bender with, it had to be him. My neighbor, the man with the thick beard and wild hair and impossibly powerful built stood near his truck staring at where I’d back into it. The damage wasn’t too bad, but I’d managed to smash in the passenger-side door.

  “Fucking hell,” he said, shaking his head. There was anger in his voice, and his tone was about as deep and resonant as I’d expect from a man his size. So deep, in fact, that I could almost feel his voice in my bones.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He whipped his gaze to me, those brilliant blues that I’d seen before narrowed in accusation and irritation. “Where the hell’d you learn to drive?” Without waiting for a response, he stepped over to the area of the impact and picked up something from the ground.

  It was my plate.

  “California, huh?” he asked. “You all drive like assholes down there?”

  I was on the spot, my heart still racing from what had happened, but even so, I couldn’t help but notice just how fucking hot he was. The man was tall and muscular and imposing. His arms were thick, his hands huge, and even through the beard, I could see that his features were sharp and sexy. Just standing there before him was enough to make me clench my thighs as a rush of electric energy pulsed through my body.

  At that moment, I feared him. But I wanted him, too.

  I cleared my throat and gathered my nerve. “Hey!” I said. “It was an accident.”

  He shook his head, tossing the plate onto the ground where it landed with a clatter. “Yeah, an accident that happened because you weren’t paying attention.” He raised an accusing finger at me. “You know, you’re lucky as hell I was paying attention. This shit could’ve gone all kinds of sideways if we’d both been as clueless as you.”

  Irked at his incredible rudeness, my voice was raised when I spoke. “Where the hell to you get off talking to me like that?”

  But he didn’t back down in the slightest, those brilliant blues still locked onto me. “Far as I see it, if you nearly kill me, I get to talk to you however I want.”

  Then he looked up, and I did the same. Our accident and argument had caught the attention of a few other people, and inside Lizzie’s place I could see her approach the window. He paused as if the attention was the last thing he wanted.

  “Just…learn how to drive,” he growled, turning towards his truck, his steps hurried.

  “Wait,” I called, following him. “What about swapping information?”

  “You got yourself as good as you got me,” he said, flicking his eyes to my bumper as he climbed into his truck and gunned the engine. He peeled out and was gone, his truck turning the nearest corner and vanishing out of sight.

  I glanced at the back of my car. The bumper was bent in and the trunk crumpled. But at that moment, I didn’t
care about that.

  All I could think about was the strange, handsome man and his equally strange behavior.

  Hunter

  Sam, the sixty-something owner of the auto shop, looked at my truck. He grinned, flashing a smile of crooked teeth. “What, you thinking you’ll get an employee discount on fixing that thing if I hire you?”

  I glanced over my shoulder at my truck, a tinge of anger running through me at the sight of my passenger-side door crunched. “That just happened, believe it or not. Some woman from California backed out without looking.”

  Sam wiped his hands on a rag before tossing it onto a nearby workbench. The smell of oil was thick in the air at the garage. I glanced around, noting a couple employees in dirty overalls working on cars behind us. Motley Crue played on a small Bluetooth speaker set on a counter in the corner.

  “You’re kidding me,” he said, shaking his head and leaning back against the SUV he’d been working on when I arrived. “So you want to work here?”

  I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest. “I do. Part-time, if you’ve got it.”

  “And I take it you’ve got experience?” he questioned, eyeing me, not the least bit intimidated by my size and gruffness.

  I nodded. “Did plenty mechanical work when I was in the service. When I finished my tour and joined the force in LA, I made sure to keep what I knew sharp in the motor pool at the station.”

  Sam raised a bushy eyebrow. “A military man, huh?”

  “Army - infantry.”

  He raised the tattered sleeve of his shirt, showing off a faded tattoo of what looked to be the unit he’d served with. “Marines,” he said with a sly wink. “But I won’t hold that against you.” He glanced aside, clearly still considering the matter. “Anyway, you look like a man who knows what he’s doing when it comes to cars. And we’re short a man since one of our boys joined the second he turned eighteen. How about this – start tomorrow, and we’ll see what you’ve got. You pull your weight, we’ll make room for you here. That work?”

  “That works just fine.” He stuck out his hand and I took it, and we parted ways.

  I had a new job. I sure as hell didn’t need it. Between my pension from the force and the rest of the money I’d saved and invested, I was good on money for a good long while.