The Player Next Door

“Well, I am the expert, after all.”

“What’s Bill’s kid’s name again?” I tease. Bill has a five-year-old daughter from his first marriage who lives in a Boston suburb. He sees her one weekend a month and over holidays, a painful trade-off he had to accept when he moved to New York for his job. Justine could count on one hand the number of nights she’s spent with the two of them.

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you need to make sure you call him Daddy while you’re riding him. Repeatedly. Extra points if you scream it while you’re coming.”

“Ew! No!”

“I do it to Bill all the time.”

“And he likes that?” I cringe.

“Oh, no. He hates it. Once, he couldn’t even finish.”

I snort. “You are evil.”

“I know,” she hisses conspiratorially.

“Scarlet?”

I jump at the sound of Shane’s voice right behind me. I didn’t hear him approaching. “Yeah?”

“Sorry. I didn’t realize you were on the phone.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s only Justine. What’s up?”

He gestures behind him with a thumb. “That last post by the house is rotten. It’s soft all around the base. I should replace it before it takes the whole section down.”

“I’ll bet Shane’s base isn’t soft right now,” Justine purrs seductively in my ear.

I purse my lips, struggling not to burst out laughing as heat crawls up my neck. “Is that hard to do?”

“So hard, big daddy,” Justine answers.

“Shut up!” I hiss into the phone, a giggle escaping before I stifle it.

Shane’s brow pinches curiously. “Nah, not the way this fence was put together. I’ll have to take down the section first, but it’ll be fine.”

“That’d be … thanks.” Is he this helpful with everyone? Why didn’t he do all this for Iris when she was here? Maybe because he wasn’t hoping to screw her, that cynical voice in my head warns.

He pushes a hand through his wavy hair, sending it into disarray. “No problem. I’m going to grab a water and then head over to the mill. You want one?”

“Yes! Oh yes! Give it to me, Daddy! Yes!” Justine moans into my ear, and by the surprised look that flashes across Shane’s face, loud enough that it carried to him.

“Still have mine.” I wave my half-empty bottle in the air, my cheeks flushing.

He flashes a deep-dimpled smile and strides past.

“What is wrong with you?” I ask as soon as Shane is out of earshot.

“Where shall I begin?”

My eyes trail after Shane, admiring his body, his walk, his everything. “Oh God …” I mutter, more to myself. I’m in deep trouble.

“So, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. This is horrible. I’m like a hormonal teenager again.” Except one who wouldn’t have any control over her sexual urges around this guy. We’re not teenagers anymore, though. We’re two adults living next door to each other. He’s a hot single dad who rescues kittens and is handy with home repairs.

Shane suddenly turns to look back at me.

“Shit.” I drop my gaze, pretending to focus on my picket fence. “I just got caught staring.”

“Good.”

I scowl. “What do you mean, good? How is that good?”

“What’s he doing now?”

I hazard a glance back. “He’s almost at his porch stairs. And I think he’s … yeah.” I watch slack-jawed as he reaches over his head and pulls his T-shirt up and over his head, revealing that golden tan and corded muscle. He must spend his days at the fire station working out to have a body like that. “He just took off his shirt.” He wipes the cotton over the back of his neck and then tosses it over the railing. “And now he’s gone inside.”

“So, Daddy’s made the first game move. Your turn.”

“What? No, he’s just hot and sweaty. And stop calling him that. It’s creepy.”

Justine cackles. “Bullshit. He knows you want him.”

“I do not want him.”

“Really? How’s that fence coming?”

I look down to see that I’ve been brushing the same spot since I got on the phone with Justine ten minutes ago. “You’ve been distracting me.”

“Please, a newborn baby could see through your lies.”

“Fine. He’s hot as hell,” I admit. “But I don’t want anything to happen between us.”

“Why not?”

“You mean besides our past?”

“From a hundred years ago? Yeah. Besides that.” She sounds irritated with me.

It throws me off. “Well … because of my fake relationship with Joe, for one thing.”

Her loud bark fills my ear.

“What? It’s safe!”

“How long do you think you can keep that going before you just look pathetic?”

“I was aiming for Christmas?”

“Scarlet, stop being stupid!”

“No, getting involved with Shane would be stupid. Russian roulette-level stupid.” He imploded my life once and that was enough, thanks.

“Okay, well, when you’re ready to stop being a shrew and have some fun, let me know. I’ll give you some tips. Not that you need any, you little minx.”

With an exasperated sigh, I end the call and turn my attention back to my task, shifting over to the next picket just as Shane’s door creaks open and he strolls out.