She’s some nosy neighbor, probably in the homeowners association like Yoga Barbie who pretended to go running each morning just so she could spy on everyone.
Like she could run with those hugely-inflated fake boobs.
“No. Of course not. I was trying to be a good neighbor!”
“By opening my mail? You call that being a good neighbor? Because I call it a federal offense.”
She went even more pale and he worried for a moment that she was going to faint.
Fuck. Shit.
He had to remind himself that she wasn’t some prospect he was telling off for being a dipshit. She was a woman. She’d probably never been spoken to like this in her life. She couldn’t even seem to swear for fucks sake.
Calm down, Duke.
All he’d wanted was a cold beer and an hour of peace. It would have reinstated his equilibrium. He knew that he was taking his bad mood out of her and it wasn’t cool. . .
Unless she really had opened his mail.
She hadn’t answered his accusation with a denial. He raised an eyebrow, holding out the envelope.
She swallowed. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for it to rip. There was so much mail in your box and the homeowners association gives out fines if you don’t collect your mail daily. So I thought I’d get it out for you. I had to tug hard and that envelope ripped. I didn’t see anything.”
He sighed. Crap. He believed her. She wasn’t some nosy cow out to poke around in his life. She was just a nice woman trying to be a good neighbor.
And you are a real prick.
He massaged his head. “Look, I—”
“I need to go.”
She pushed the lawnmower around him and started up towards the side gate. He thought about going after her, apologizing. But the truth w
as he was probably better off letting her go. If this encounter stopped her from coming over here again, all the better.
He moved back up onto the porch. From his vantage point above her, he could just spot her in the waning light, pushing the lawnmower into that ridiculous garden shed of hers. Didn’t she have any security lights? He scowled. What was that dick she’d been living with thinking?
And why the hell did he care? The guys had given him shit about buying a house in suburbia. This place was so normal and ordinary, it did seem like a strange choice.
But he liked that it was ordinary. That the worst he had to worry about was the neighborhood association fining him for breaking the rules. Although that fake woman who headed the association had made it clear that in exchange for sexual favors, she’d gladly turn the other cheek on any breaches.
He shuddered at the thought. He didn’t have to worry about drive-by shootings or who was cooking up meth. This place reminded him of his childhood. Before he’d lost everything.
Darkness fell and the quiet soothed him. It also had him sighing with regret.
He’d been a real asshole.
Christ. He didn’t even know her name. Knew nothing about her except that she was quiet, and she’d had an uptight suit living with her when he’d first arrived. He took another sip of beer, glancing down at the envelope in his hands. His outdoor lights were set to come on automatically and they’d switched on several minutes ago.
Unlike next door. Where there were no lights on at all.
He frowned. The photos are what you should care about. Not your mousy neighbor.
Except she hadn’t seemed so mousy, standing there with her mouth open, her tanned skin flush with exertion. Those ugly, baggy clothes should have been a turn-off and yet he’d found himself wondering at the body underneath. Had he ever seen her in anything that wasn’t baggy and several sizes too big? Not that he could recall.
Concentrate, Duke. Photos.
He picked up his phone as it buzzed. Reyes.