Neighborly Complications (Stories of Serendipity #1) (2 page)

“Yeah…I’m Claire. I just moved in here.” She was now completely mortified. “I fell into an old well, I guess…and, um…” Helpless, she looked at the man behind her, having no clue what his name was.

“Max,” He supplied for her, straight-faced.

“Right. Max here, helped me out.” She offered him a relieved smile.

Max turned his gaze from Claire to Summer, and Claire saw him look pointedly at her broom. “You going to be flying off on that thing?”

She looked at the broom in her hand, as if just realizing she had carried it over. “I was sweeping my porch off.” She swiped it at Max playfully. “Max is handy to have around. Very helpful.” Summer winked as she held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you Claire. Do you need help with anything?”

“Um, no…I think I’ve got this. I’m just carrying trash out. I know now to avoid this side of the house.” Claire tried to laugh, as if this kind of thing happened every day. Her laugh came out sounding more like a tired wheeze, so she stopped.

“Well, I’m glad to see somebody move in here. It’s been vacant way too long. Holler if you need anything. I’m right next door over there.” With a wave, the pixie disappeared around the side of the house.

“Okay, thanks.” After Summer left, Claire turned to Max, who was still staring at her with an amused expression on his face.

“I live next door, on the other side.” He pointed to the opposite side from where Summer had disappeared. “I’ll go grab a piece of plywood and put it over that hole for you. It looks like that piece has been there so long, it’s completely rotten.” As he spoke, he took a few tentative steps closer to her. Something about the nearness of him stole her breath, and by the time he got directly in front of her, she was nearly gasping. Or was that remnants of the adrenaline?

“I have plywood…”

His eyes were locked on her mouth, and Claire watched as he raised one hand and traced the track of a tear down her face. His touch was tender, and it blazed a trail of warmth on her skin where the tears had been. His caramelly eyes were glazed, as if he were in a trance or something. Claire had to admit to herself, she didn’t think she was in her right mind at the moment.

“I can help you put it over the hole, if you’d like.” His finger stopped at her lip, and he rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip.

“I can do it…” She breathed at him, her voice suddenly unrecognizable to her own ears.

His thumb was rough touching her bottom lip, and Claire couldn’t deny the intense attraction she felt towards this stranger. As if there was an alien entity inside Claire that craved a little Max-snack, her lips opened and took his thumb into her mouth. Then sucked.

Max’s entire body stiffened, his eyes popped open, and his mouth emitted a small exhalation of toothpaste-scented air, as Claire sucked on his thumb. Her tongue made little swirly motions around it, while she watched his eyes actually darken from gooey caramel, to a melted chocolate color. She closed her eyes and tasted the salty flavor of her tears mixed with his sweat, and then she gasped and spit out his thumb, humiliated for doing it in the first place.
What sort of horny sex-demon has possessed me?
She pushed away from him and brought her hands up to her face to hide the blush she knew she was flashing him.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m a dumb ass. That was gross. I don’t know where your thumb has been. I don’t know you. At all.” Unable to stand still, she started a frenetic pacing back and forth, eager for the ground to swallow her up whole. Maybe she could jump back into the hole in the ground. “Ohmygod. Why would you want a dumb ass to suck your thumb? Why would you want anybody to suck your thumb? It’s like a nose and friends! Yuck!” She could feel the blush run up her neck straight to her hairline. Her heart pounded, and she forced air into her lungs as she tried to breathe through her shame.

As Claire peeked through her fingers at Max, she noticed that he looked like he was suppressing a laugh. His chocolaty eyes were crinkling at the edges.
This is at the top of my list of ‘Most Awkward Moments, Ever,’
Claire thought to herself.

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, trying to collect herself. This was not normal behavior for her. “That was incredibly awkward. I don’t know what came over me. I’m really sorry.”

He grinned at her good-naturedly. “It’s alright. Anytime you need a thumb to suck, I’ll be next door.” He turned to go, took a few steps, then turned back. “You said you have plywood?”

She nodded, “Yes, I have plenty. I’ve got to board up a couple of windows before the glass guys can make it out to replace them, so I bought extra. You never know what you’re gonna need.” She was anxious for this hunky guy to leave, so she could wallow in her humiliation.

Unfortunately, he seemed to be in the mood to chat. “You’re fixing it up yourself?”

“Um, yeah. What I can. Then I’ll hire out the rest.” She grabbed the trash bags that had made it halfway to the curb. “Well, thanks again for pulling me out. I’ve got stuff to do.” She turned and walked away, effectively putting an end to his chitchat.

The rest of the day Claire kept herself busy cleaning. Any breaks she allowed herself were consumed by thoughts of her behavior. She had no idea what had come over her. She was not a sex-starved clutz, who put herself in harm’s way to be rescued by Prince Hunkalicious only to suck on said hunk’s thumb. She kept break-times to a minimum.

And she needed to. This house was a disaster. Since he had no children of his own, Uncle Eddie had given all of the cousins a choice of properties when he made out his will. Because Claire had heard that this property had gold hidden in it somewhere, this was the one she had chosen for herself. When she saw the place, though, she had had second thoughts.

It had potential to be beautiful. Built in the late eighteen hundreds, it was an exquisite specimen of Victorian architecture, with gabled windows, a wrap-around porch, and even a turret. However, due to years of Uncle Eddie’s neglect, the house was a complete dump. Having lain vacant for years, teenagers had broken in and partied, effectively trashing the place.

She definitely had her work cut out for herself. But when she did find the gold, she could use it to fix the place up right, and she would be able to open up a bed and breakfast. Until she found it though, she’d have to rely on her own limited resources and skills.

The gold was all Uncle Eddie had talked about with this particular piece of property. Other properties had mineral rights, rich for the mining. Others had spectacular structures that he talked about, like the four-story beach house with eight bedrooms, the perfect rental income property on the Gulf coast. There were also the properties with the high resale value, in Austin and New Braunfuls. But this one had the gold.

Uncle Eddie seemed to be most fascinated with this property, talking vaguely of Confederate bars, hidden by people long dead, protected by some unnamed entity. He was extremely enigmatic about it, but when the cousins had all sat down with him, choosing their parcels, Eddie had flashed Claire a look of delight when she’d told him she wanted the house in Serendipity.

Now that she was here, she was beginning to question her choice. There was a lot of work to do, and in the reality of daylight, the possibility of gold bars seemed ambiguous at best.

She probably could have asked the hunky neighbor to help her with some of the heavy stuff, but that was before she’d sucked his thumb. Jesus! What had she been thinking? Claire mentally face-palmed herself, cringing again.

She had purposely moved to Serendipity, Texas, because it was a small town, and she didn’t know anybody here, especially men. She was taking a self-imposed break from relationships. Claire had a tendency to get too close too fast, and today had been no exception.

After James, Mark, and Tom, she was ready to give up relationships for good.

Now she had to figure out how to live here, while simultaneously avoiding the hot next-door neighbor. Oh well, the one experience she had with him would probably last her for years. It would have to.

A
fter being stuck at his desk all week, Max was ready for some physical exertion. Nothing like a good sweat to get his endorphins going. He needed another burst of energy if he was going to get this sample grant ready for the Serendipity Main Street meeting next week. He really wanted to make a good impression on that group of people. If he got an in with them, he could write grants for people all over town. He might even get the remodeling contracts, which was what he really wanted. That’s where the money was. People in this town, though, still thought of him as a teenager, and even though he was in his thirties, everyone still remembered who had been Serendipity’s quarter back, the last time the football team ever made it to state play-offs.

He was setting up the spacers between the wood, before screwing in the decking boards, when he heard the screams. Initially thinking it was a couple of teenagers, daring each other to do something to the house next door, he decided to investigate. When he’d seen the woman, struggling to get out of the hole, he’d run to save her.

But he was afraid he’d lost himself in the process.

He’d left Claire on her side of the Azalea shrub, feeling like a louse. He couldn’t get over how attracted to her he was. And the guilt was tearing him up.

Max spent the rest of the day building the deck extension listening for any more sounds of distress coming from next door. Fortunately, he didn’t hear anything, but it wasn’t for lack of listening. He usually had music of some kind playing in the yard with him, either out loud or in his ear buds. But not today. He wanted to hear everything she did.

He heard every time she opened her door to take another load of trash to the curb. As he listened, he couldn’t help but imagine her, sweating, straining, and breathing heavily as she worked. Max wanted to go over there and offer to help, but he knew that the thumb-sucking incident earlier had embarrassed her. Not that he hadn’t enjoyed it. Max knew that he’d been about to kiss her. He’d been under some sort of spell, with her body next to his, her scent pervading his senses, her tears on his fingertips…

He knew his thoughts of Katherine were unreasonable. His head told him it was okay to feel attraction for other women. It had been four years, after all. But his heart told him something different. He had promised her forever, and he was a man of his word.

That night, as he lay in bed looking over at her house through his bedroom window, he saw an upstairs light come on. Unable to look away, Max watched Claire come into a bedroom clad only in a fuzzy pink towel. She walked over to a box, bent over and started rummaging around, looking for something.

Realizing what was happening, Max groaned and rolled over in the bed. He couldn’t watch his new neighbor getting dressed. After her embarrassment this morning, she would be utterly wretched to find out that he had spied on her while she was in the privacy of her own room.

Max focused his eyes on the framed picture on his nightstand. He was embracing Katherine from behind, his head resting on her shoulder. The Grand Canyon in the background, they exuded honeymooners’ delight. Max tried to focus on the memories the two of them had created on that trip instead of the woman, twenty feet away, dressing. But he couldn’t. As hard as he tried to think about the two of them sharing a sleeping bag under the billions of Arizona stars, his mind kept drifting back to Claire.

Max squeezed his eyes shut, trying to forget the image that had burned itself into his brain. The towel was just long enough to leave a little to the imagination, until she’d bent over. He suddenly longed to clutch the smooth, rounded ass that had peeked out from under the towel. Max’s hands clenched into fists under his pillow as he pounded his head down into the feathers.

Even with clothes on, he admitted with a pang, she was gorgeous. Her body was toned and tanned, and she had short blond hair that framed her face with soft curls. Her eyes were hazel, he thought, but wasn’t sure. He’d have to get a closer look. He realized with a start he was looking forward to it.

Resolving to go over tomorrow and properly introduce himself, Max finally managed to fall into a fitful sleep, full of erotic dreams of having sex with his next-door neighbor, while his dead wife watched from a chair in the corner of the room.

The next morning, Max awoke, showered and dressed carefully, before having a cup of coffee. While he sipped his brew, his thoughts again turned towards Katherine. Was he really ready for this? Was he ready to pursue a relationship with a woman?

The truth was, he wasn’t even sure if Claire was interested. But if yesterday had been any indication, she was. She had been just as in the moment as he’d been. Max studied his thumb, remembering his insta-erection as soon as she’d wrapped her mouth around it and started sucking.

Jesus Christ.

He wasn’t really much for flings, but something about Claire made him not really care. He’d been attracted to women since Katherine, but nothing this intense.

Taking a deep breath, he rinsed his coffee cup and put it in the sink, before walking next door to formally introduce himself to Claire. As he knocked, he could hear the noise of a power saw from behind the door. Surprisingly impressed, he waited for her to answer. When she finally did, his stomach dropped, as if he were on a roller coaster that just took a nose-dive.

She had a bandana pulling her hair back, and safety goggles were perched on top of her head. Her eyes were definitely hazel, though they were a little on the greenish side. She wore cut off shorts, a tank top, and work boots. She was dirty and sweaty, but Max didn’t think he’d seen anyone so attractive in his life.

Maybe it was because she had been using power tools that he thought she was so sexy; he wasn’t sure. It could have been the memory of her soft skin under his fingers yesterday, when he’d pulled her out of that hole. Maybe it was the recollection of her wrapped in a towel last night in her room, fresh from the shower.

Whatever it was about her, she was totally hot. Max hadn’t said a word since she’d opened the door, and now she was looking at him expectantly, her hand on one cocked out hip, foot tapping impatiently.