Being Cordial

by Meka James

  Being Cordial

  Desert Rose Hookups

  Meka James

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Thank you

  About the Author

  Other books by Meka

  Connect with me!

  Copyright 2020 © James/Jazen Ink Press

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Created with Vellum

  Acknowledgments

  To my RChat ladies…I wouldn’t know what I’d do without you all. Your constant cheerleading and virtual shoulders to cry on help me more than you know. Special shout out to Lily, Cora and Deana who listened to me whine my way through completion of this book.

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  To my nephew Josh for answering all my random ass text messages without a second thought. Love you.

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  To the readers, without you I have no reason to keep sharing my words. Thank you for your support and hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  Being Cordial

  1

  Lana

  The pictures on the wall thumped with the bass coming from next door. It was a Wednesday night for goodness sake. Who the hell threw a party in the middle of the week? The annoying man I lived next to, that’s who. I released a frustrated groan and pulled my glasses from my face, dropping them onto the stack of papers beside me.

  The disturbance caused Yoda, my three-year-old Chihuahua, to look up at me before he stood, stretched, walked to the other end of the couch, turned three times, and resumed his nap. His back faced me as the ultimate snub.

  I’d read the same line of numbers multiple times. The noise from next door was proving to be as frustrating as the person behind it. He who swooped in and snatched up the unit I’d wanted before I’d had a chance to finish weighing the pros and cons of each place.

  Spreadsheets—seeing the numbers—that was what I did. But nope, guess some were more impulsive than others. Like Mr. Thoughtless next door.

  Of the four complexes I’d narrowed it down to, this one had everything I wanted. A smaller community, lower HOA fees, but a decent amount of amenities with the pool, workout room, and a clubhouse that could host movie nights. I’d picked out exactly which place I’d wanted at each location. Here, it was the end unit on the back half of the subdivision so there was less drive-through traffic. Three bedrooms, a larger living room, and a kitchen with a small sunroom attached to the patio. Not to mention, I got to look out on a distant mountain view and natural desert landscape, instead of my neighbor’s backyard like some of the buildings in the center of Desert Rose Station. That was just bad planning.

  That unit had been the last end availability in phase three, the final phase which meant I didn’t have to deal with long term construction noise and dirt. It was perfect. And two months later, I remained irked over having lost the one I’d scouted out and being forced into making an impulse decision. A decision I’d regretted since moving in.

  Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. My pictures bounced and the pulse in my temple pounded in the same rhythm. I ran my hands through my hair, scrunching it in my fist before letting the curls tumble free. I didn’t like confrontation, it wasn’t my thing, but how was a woman supposed to think?

  I stormed down the hallway, passed my front office that rarely got used, and out my door. My mistake of not stopping for shoes became painfully evident as I had to gingerly walk over the pebbled divider separating my driveway from his. With a frustrated sigh, I shook the nerves from my body before jabbing the doorbell, then hitting it twice more.

  As I lifted my finger to hit the button again the door opened with a whoosh. The mid-laugh stopped and the smile dropped from his face the moment he set eyes on me. Two months of living next to him and this was the closest we’d actually come to each other. The fact that I had to look up at him bristled under my skin. At five-nine, I stood eye to eye with most men—taller when I wore heels—and I enjoyed being on even playing ground so to speak. Which meant he had to be at least six feet and another reason his mere presence was a thorn in my side.

  “What can I do for you, Ms. Passive Aggressive?” He leaned his lanky body—clad in a plain black T-shirt and gray athletic shorts—against the doorframe and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

  I frowned at his greeting. Miss what now? Oh, shit. The note I’d left on the windshield of whatever car was parked too close to my driveway and nearly had me blocked in. Leaving a written message was easier. Like memos at work, they were clear, concise, and got the point across without the worry of something being spoken incorrectly.

  I crossed my arms and pursed my lips. “Well, you can turn down the music, Mr. Party-In-The-Middle-of-The-Week.”

  What could only be described as a sarcastic chuckle passed his lips. “So, that’s why I’ve been graced with you talking to me finally? You came to bitch about my music? Surprised you didn’t leave a note taped to my door.” He scratched at his hair and my eyes were drawn up to the mess of black curls haphazardly sitting atop his head in what I would say was a messy bun that rivaled my own.

  His thick, dark eyebrows drew together when his brow crinkled into a deep V. There wasn’t a hint of amusement in his rich mahogany eyes. Eyes surrounded by midnight lashes so long they should be criminal on a man. And flawless skin that was a natural warm hue which my damn near pale ass envied. He had the complexion I’d wished my parents would have given me. Instead, Dad’s genes won the great DNA battle, at least where my skin tone was concerned. Being this close to him for the first time, damn he was disarmingly good looking. His deep voice which held a New York accent cut through my momentary daze.

  “Maybe I should start leaving you notes every time Ren decides to leave unwelcomed gifts out by my patio.”

  It was my turn to frown. “Who the hell is Ren, and what do they have to do with me?”

  He cocked his head to the side and a half-smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Full, dusty rose-toned lips that begged for attention as they stood out from the surrounding close-cut, dark beard.

  “Ren. From Ren and Stimpy.” He bugged his eyes and his brows rose as if those names were supposed to mean anything to me.

  A groan deep from the back of his throat rumbled free. “Your dog. The little rat looking, yappy thing that seems to think my patio is his personal hangout.”

  I clenched my teeth. Yoda was my baby, and sure he barked sometimes, but he wasn’t “yappy” and he sure as hell didn’t look like a rat.

  I huffed and planted my hands on my hips. “His name is Yoda. And yes, maybe you should have left a note, or knocked on my door if it was an issue.”

  He shook his head and gave another sarcastic chuckle. “Yeah, right. Me come knock on your door because you’ve been oh so approachable. We’ve been neighbors for months, and this is the first conversation we’ve had. So, knockin’ at your door, that ain’t likely t
o happen, Ma. I just clean it up and keep it moving.”

  His attitude prickled under my skin. I was a friendly person. Mostly.

  I started to defend against my note-leaving habits when the grin that had dropped reappeared. A nice smile. Dazzling white teeth that stood out against the dark hairs of his beard. A smile that should not have an effect on me, yet here I stood with strange damn near swoony thoughts unwantedly rolling through my head.

  “Don’t worry, Ma. I’ll turn it down.”

  I started to respond when another rumbling voice carried toward us.

  “Yo, E. What the fuck you doing, jacking off?”

  He turned and called back over his shoulder. “Not likely, Ice Queen felt I was worthy enough to have her complain about the music in person.”

  Ice Queen? Ice Queen? I could feel the heat rising up my throat as my blood pressure skyrocketed. And to think I’d been about to thank him for being reasonable.

  “For reals?” The speaker stepped into sight and gawked at me like I was some sort of oddity. The look of him with a smug grin on his face made me want to scream.

  “In the flesh.”

  “Just turn it down.” I moved to stomp off and immediately regretted it. A pebble lodged into my foot and my storm became a hobble with the sound of their laughter playing as a soundtrack behind me.

  2

  Emilio

  I pushed against the knuckles on my right hand until I heard two pops and then repeated the process on the left before shaking both out. I’d told Ms. Johnson last time she’d brought me her son’s laptop she’d needed to invest in a real virus protector, not the basic free thing that came with the machine. But had she listened? That would be a hard nope, and that was why it sat with me now, and why she was about to be out more than the cost of said virus protection.

  Movement outside caught my eye. I turned and groaned. Ren, sniffing around once again on my side of the fence. Ma’s ass wanted to get pissed over some music or parking but she let that little beast shit all over the place.

  I chuckled quietly thinking about our interaction the other night. No idea what crawled up her ass, but she’d been nothing short of pissy since she’d moved in. In the beginning, I’d attempted to be neighborly. I’d wave or try to be cordial toward her when we happened to be out at the same time, but she was not having it.

  Then the notes. A millimeter over the line and she was ranting about being inconsiderate and blocking her in. Shit, if she couldn’t back out, that had more to do with her driving than my client’s car. I leaned back in my chair waiting to see if she’d come to collect the tiny terror. But she didn’t. He sniffed around my grill before he hopped his tiny ass up onto my lawn chair, turned a few times, and started sunning himself like he was king.

  I stood to go shoo him away when she stepped into view.

  “Yoda, come here.” She scooped him up and met my gaze through the glass.

  Her light brown eyes were wide as if she was momentarily shocked or embarrassed to see me. I had to admit, when she wasn’t scowling at me, she was cute. Her mass of brown curls was tamed today, unlike last night. She had them pulled back in a high ponytail with a few loose strands framing either side of her face.

  Seeing her up close had revealed a sprinkle of freckles across her nose. The lack of a scowl didn’t last long as the frown that seemed reserved just for me took up place and she whipped around and disappeared around the separator fence.

  I shook it off and went back to the task at hand. Music playing, I started digging into the system to clean up the shit-storm that was the infestation of malware. I needed to tell that kid about safer sites if he was going to keep trying to locate free porn online. I threw out that idea. No contributing to the delinquency of a minor. Instead, I’d just install the fucking high-grade virus protection.

  My concentration was interrupted by two quick rings of my doorbell. I pushed back from my table and did a stretch as I walked down the hall. Two days in a row I came face to face with the shorty from next door.

  “What now? The music ain’t even that loud.” I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorframe.

  She held the tiny animal in her arms, squared her shoulders, and looked up at me. “I just wanted to...apologize for Yoda invading your space.” She spoke the words as if it almost pained her to get them out. Damn, she had one hell of a talent of making everything she said sound like an insult.

  “Since you’re not a dog person and all. Which says a lot about your character. Not liking pets.” She pursed her lips and damn near seemed to turn her nose up. Well, if she could, but considering she had to look up at me, that made it a little hard to attempt a “look down.”

  And there was the actual insult. I cocked my head. “I like pets just fine. I don’t like irresponsible pet owners.”

  She took in a sharp breath and her eyes were mere slits. I pressed my lips together to keep from smiling. Like when she got annoyed last night, a deep red flush started crawling up her neck from behind the stark white button-down she wore. Probably starched knowing how uptight she appeared. I let my gaze travel the length of her body. Gray slacks clung to curvy hips and she wore the ugliest shoes I’d ever seen. Black and bulky with a thick sole and a wide strap that went across the top of her foot. Neither my Gran nor Abuela would put those things on.

  The animal yapped and squirmed in her arms. He wasn’t that bad looking, cute in his own way, and she had him dressed in a shirt sporting his namesake. She shushed him before leveling her attention back at me.

  “I am not irresponsible.”

  “If you say so. But if you’re finished with your crap-ass apology with a side dose of put down I have work to do.”

  “Work?” She eyed me up and down no doubt making assumptions based on my athletic shorts and ASU T-shirt.

  “Yeah, work. You know the nine-to-five people do to pay the bills and shit. Or is that a concept Princess Petty is unfamiliar with?”

  She shifted the dog in her arms and thinned her lips. “I know what work is. I come home from my job to let Yoda out during my lunch break. Some of us I guess are simply more professional than others.”

  “Mayhaps or some of us work for ourselves and can wear whatever the fuck we want since we work from home.”

  That red flush deepened and made its way up to stain her cheeks. No clue why she kept coming over here to embarrass herself, but my patience for this snooty woman was wearing thin.

  “Anything else?”

  “No.” She clipped out the answer then turned to walk back to her unit.

  At least the sight of her leaving gave me a nice view. She had an ass on her. I closed the door and headed back to my task. I knew I could be a pain at times, but shit, I hadn’t even done anything to her, and yet she was full of nothing but annoyed contempt directed at me.

  Giving her hell only made it worse, but she brought it on herself. Someone clearly needed to clue her in on the flies with honey thing because she was a large glass of vinegar with a lemon chaser.

  A smile tugged at my lips as I changed tracks to one with extra bass and cranked up the volume on my stereo.

  3

  Lana

  I’d spent three days trying to ignore the jerk next door. I’d gritted my teeth and refused to take the bait when he’d played his crap-ass music so damned loud. I knew he was doing it on purpose. He had to be, just like he’d turned the volume up after our last conversation. But there he was. Playing basketball across the street with the guy that lived there. Couldn’t they work out at the fitness center like normal people instead of using the portable and probably illegal rig?

  I paid dues to have those amenities and because of that, there was a certain standard of appearance I expected my neighborhood to have. Cars lining the street and people using their driveways as a gym were not it. Maybe I should complain to the board. I shook my head, dismissing the thought as quickly as it came. Even I wouldn’t be that much of a bitch. Besides, it normally was the guy’s kids that used it
and they always put it away after they were done. There was only one reason why it bugged me more today.

  I tried to keep my eyes straight ahead as I drove past them. My annoying neighbor was annoyingly shirtless. He may have appeared to be lanky, but damn it all to hell he was toned. I pulled into my drive and observed the two of them in the rearview while I waited for my garage door to open. Mr. Annoying did some spin move around the other guy and went up for his shot, but it was blocked and knocked down the drive and bounced right into mine.

  I parked and glanced back up to the mirror in time to see him drop his head, exchange words with the guy before trotting over to get the offending piece of equipment. He took a deep breath as I stepped out of my car. The action of him squeezing the ball between his hands made the muscles in his sweat coated arms and chest ripple. An intricate tattoo covered his left pec, moved across his shoulder, and stopped mid-way on his upper arm. An uncharacteristic urge to trace the lines tingled in my fingers.

  He wasn’t body-builder cut with abs on top of abs. He was...sleek. Deceptively muscular with the hidden gems making themselves known in the most mundane of movements. And sweet lord, I needed to keep my eyes up and not even think about letting my gaze drop to the dark blue shorts that hung low on his hips. Or acknowledge the distinct imprint of some other deceptive part of his body that had been eye level when I climbed out of my car. Good gravy it was hot. My entire body warmed from the inside out with most of the heat pooling between my legs.