I was long and rectangular, and it could’ve been anything. A bomb. Tear gas. A box rigged to blow something in my face once I opened it. I mindlessly reached for the gun on my hip as I moved toward the package slowly and steadily, in case something inside could be triggered by motion.
But when my eyes landed on the delivery sticker, I groaned with frustration.
It was a package meant for my damn neighbor.
Picking it up, I hauled it across the lawn. I walked up the porch, knocked on the door, and set the package down. I turned to walk away but the door flung open, and I bit back a groan.
Shit.
“Hello?”
I turned around at the soft voice of my neighbor and I tried to bury my shock.
I was too outraged to see clearly the day she ran into my car, but today I saw her features unmistakably. She was absolutely gorgeous.
She starred at me with her dark green eyes. Her auburn hair was piled on top of her head, and her cheeks were flushed with a healthy glow. I could hear her little girl giggling behind her, calling out breathlessly for her mother to come back and play.
I didn’t know where her husband was, but I buried the thought before it could permeate any further.
“Mailman left that on my doorstep,” I said.
“Thanks,” she said as she stooped down.
She grunted trying to pick up the package, and I thought about helping her. But I swallowed the sentiment and kept my hard demeanor.
No one liked an asshole.
That’s how it had to be.
“Sorry for the mix-up. I’ll talk to the mailman tomorrow when he comes by,” she said.
“No need. I’ll leave a sign on my door pointing to your home. I don’t get packages.”
She bit down on the inside of her cheek. She certainly wasn’t thrilled to see me, and I was ready to end this awkward interaction. I turned to walk off her porch when my eyes hit her car, and that desire to ask her to fix it was still there.
I walked off her porch and strode back across the lawn. I resisted the urge to look back as I made my way back to my garage. I heard her door shut, muffling the laughter of her daughter as I got back to work on my truck.
God, I hope she’s married.
CHAPTER 5
CINDY
“Mommy! Watch!”
I looked after my daughter as she rode her bike up and down the street in front of the house. Her hair was blowing in the wind, and there was a bright smile on her face. Every day that passed by, she looked more and more like her father with his broad smile, his twinkling eyes and his strong jawline. She even had his build, strong shoulders and long legs. She was going to be a tall one, beautiful and strong.
Two of the many things that drew me to her father when we’d first met.
The day was beautiful. The sun was out, and the birds were chirping. I was trying to enjoy it as Lily giggled on her bike but pushing thoughts of my late husband away was hard sometimes. Every day brought a new experience with Lily that I wished he was there to see. Her first day of kindergarten, riding her bike, learning how to read, and writing her name for the first time by herself.
“Mommy! Are you watching?”
“I’m watching, booger. You look awesome,” I said.
I heard a door open, and I whipped my head around. Lily stopped on her bike as the two of us watched my neighbor come out of his home. His hard demeanor kept his shoulders taut and his stance rigid. His entire body emanated tension. His hands were in fists at his sides, and his face was sunken with displeasure.
He was picking up his mail, and Lily couldn’t stop staring at him.