Lust Thy Neighbor (2 page)

When they got back home, she went into the kitchen to fix dinner while Bear watched from his mat by the back door, his short legs extended straight out making it look like he was flattened. She mixed some hamburger meat into his regular cup of kibble, feeling guilty that while she was enjoying giant meatballs with her spaghetti, Bear was stuck with dry, bland dog food. After he happily wolfed it down, he crashed in front of the television while Violet spent the rest of her Friday night grading papers.

*

A
high-pitched squealing sound jarred Violet out of her sleep the next morning. She popped straight up in her bed, the blankets sliding down to her narrow waist, and reached over to snatch up the alarm clock from the nightstand. "Seven?” she gasped. “You've got to be kidding me!”

Bear got up and shook his little body, coming up to Violet's chest and wiggling his way under the covers, his way of asking what was wrong. He whined and licked her cheek as she frantically reached over the bed to pull on a pair of shorts over her panties. Grabbing the thin cotton robe that hung on the back of the armchair by her bed, she threw it on over her tank top and whirled down the stairs, Bear hot on her heels. The closer she got to the front door, the louder the offending sound became.

"What the
hell
is going on?" she growled.

The noise was coming from her new neighbor’s house and, since her classroom was situated across the hall from a shop class and she was familiar with the sounds that came along, her neighbor was using some sort of saw. A loud and incredibly annoying electrical saw. She sprinted across her lawn and the neighbor’s yard and banged on the door. No answer. Her mane of dark hair flew loose behind her as she ran around to the side of the house, where she spied flecks of wood flying from the backyard. Taking a deep breath, she opened the side gate and went in uninvited. She quickly saw a dark head bent over a table saw and charged. Did this guy not realize that it was a Saturday morning?

"Hey! Hello!"

After several seconds of her yelling, he finally looked up and turned off the saw. “Can I help you?” He straightened up and pulled the safety goggles off his eyes, perching them on top of his head. Violet swallowed hard when a pair of chocolate brown eyes, set in a bronze, classically handsome face that made her temporarily forget how irritated she was, gave her a quizzical look. He yanked his work gloves off his large hands and tossed them on the table. “You’re already trespassing, sweetheart. Might as well tell me why you’re here.”

Sweetheart? She poked her tongue in her cheek. "First, I’m not your sweetheart and second, do you know what time it is?"

"Well, my watch says—” He glanced down at his wrist before staring her down again with those brown eyes that made her chest do stupid, funny things. “—seven-oh-nine."

She snorted. "Exactly. It is seven-oh-nine. So why the hell are you making so much noise?"

He gave her a blank stare. “Because wood doesn't cut itself. Unless ... you know something I don't know.”

"It's way too early!" she pointed out hotly.

His lips stretched into a smirk and she decided that, even though it was a completely sardonic expression, it was a sexy look on him. She mentally boob punched herself for that thought. "The sun’s already shining so that means it's plenty late,” he said.

“Not on a Saturday!” She made a frustrated, growling noise that sounded a lot like something that would come from Bear and dragged her hands through her hair, which probably resembled a big, dark tumbleweed right about now. "Don't you have the decency to keep the noise down until at least ten or eleven?"

"Look, miss," he said, striding over to look down at her condescendingly. Though he easily had a good eight inches on her five-foot-four frame, she responded by drawing herself up to her full height and squaring her shoulders. "This house is mine and it isn't going to fix itself. I can't help it if you sleep in until noon, but I've got work to do."

"Ugh. Do something else until a more reasonable hour at least. Like
indoors
.” Violet whirled around without another word and left, Bear trailing behind her.

“Nice meeting you too, sweetheart,” her neighbor called after her.

W
hen she was out of sight, a wide grin split Declan’s face. His new neighbor was something. He had been shocked to find someone yelling and failing her arms so close to his saw when he stopped working, but he was even more pleasantly surprised to note the appearance of the petite wild woman in question. She had obviously been asleep and thrown on whatever she had on hand. Her white robe had been so sheer he could see the outline of her breasts, even though he’d tried like hell to keep his gaze focused on those big blue eyes with the ridiculously long eyelashes. Still, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from fully appreciating her departing form—the way her hips flared out generously and the little wiggle of her ass. Pissed-Off-Neighbor-Woman was sexy.

Hell, she was damn near perfect.

Wait. Declan shook his head to dislodge that thought from his brain. He didn't need another relationship and definitely not when he was trying to start fresh at his new home. But still, his new neighbor looked very ...
interesting
.

"Who was that?"

He turned around to see his younger brother rubbing his eyes sleepily as he approached him, his boxers hanging so low on his hips they looked like they’d fall off at any moment, warranting another complaint from the angry brunette next door. "Our new neighbor."

"Was she yelling at you?"

Declan bobbed his head. "She took offense to me using the saw at seven in the morning."

"Well, yeah." Jacob scoffed and rubbed his bare arms, padding over to sit on one of their new lawn chairs. He squinted up at Declan then nodded at the table saw. “Dude, you’re a douchebag for turning that thing on so early.”

"Woke you up too, huh?”

"Yeah. But I’ll be fine." He stretched his arms over his head and gave his older brother a hesitant look. "Hey, Dec ... you're still taking me shopping today, right?"

Declan nodded. "Promised I would. Besides, you start school on Monday. We have to get you all that stuff. Binders, pens, lunchbox, clothes."

His brother groaned. "No one uses a lunchbox in high school. You're trying to get my ass kicked the first day."

"Anyone who wants to kick your ass for a lunchbox is dealing with way bigger issues, but okay. You can paper bag it. We'll make sure to buy some of those." Declan ran his hand through his messy hair and took a good look at his younger brother.

He had assumed full custody of him when their parents had died in a head on collision with a drunk driver. Being more than seventeen years older than Jake, Declan hadn't grown up with his younger brother. Their parents had called Jacob their unannounced blessing and though Declan had been embarrassed having a mom who was pregnant when he was a high school senior, he had grown to love the brother who would chase after him whenever he came home from college to visit.

But two years ago, their lives had been flipped upside down with the unexpected death of their parents. When Declan learned the news, he was devastated and immediately concerned about Jacob. He had flown across the country to California, his home state, and collected his brother. Back then, Jake was a scrawny, terrified twelve year old, unable to control his grief and scared out of his mind. Declan had done his best to make a smooth transition for his brother, but he didn't know what to do other than to take him to New York.

Jacob had been silent for the first three months and Declan had given him as much space as possible to let his brother sort through the feelings of loss. But Declan was dealing with a lot himself at the same time. At twenty-nine, he knew nothing about taking care of a boy who was on the verge of becoming a teenager. He moved Jacob into his loft apartment, giving him his office to use as a bedroom, but he’d quickly realized just how hard the transition from their spacious and sunny California home to a tiny New York City apartment was for his kid brother.

When Declan enrolled him in a local junior high, Jacob would come home looking more depressed with each passing day. His grade dropped and, while Declan knew his brother was bright with a curious mind, his teachers grew concerned with his lack of participation.

Jake’s guidance counselors had suggested they go to a family therapist, so Declan took him to see one that specialized in grief and they each had sessions, sometimes going together and other times going by themselves. Both brothers started to open up about their feelings about their parents. They weren't the best of friends but at least Jacob finally acknowledged that he still missed their mother, especially during the holidays and sometimes when he couldn't sleep at night.

After hearing that from one of their joint sessions, Declan had gone back alone the next day and expressed his feelings of inadequacy at taking care of a kid. The therapist had suggested to Declan that maybe the city environment wasn't the best for Jacob and that he should think about taking him out of it and back into a more familiar setting.

So, after he spoke to his editor, they were able to pull some strings and Declan transferred to a local paper writing a daily column. It didn't pay as well as his old job back in New York, but the cost of living was much lower in Pennsylvania and their therapist had assured him that the environment would be healthier for Jacob's emotional well-being. Plus, at least Declan was fairly certain he wouldn't have to worry about Jake being influenced by the wrong crowd now that they were out of the city.

Well, at least not as much.

Declan remembered what he had been like as a teenager and dreaded having to go through that in the coming years. He shuddered just thinking about having to survive dating and those crazy-as-hell high school hormones.

Jacob stood up, yawned, and started to go back into the house. "I'm going to heat up some of those muffins the lady across the street brought over yesterday. Want one?"

“Two. Thanks.”

Declan watched Jacob disappear into the kitchen. It wasn't easy taking responsibility for his brother but they were getting into a groove. He still made mistakes and sometimes he would think that things would be so much simpler if he had let Jacob move in with their great aunt in Texas, but they were brothers. And no matter what, Declan had promised he would be there.

*

"I
like these." Jacob held a pair of jeans up for his older brother’s approval.

Declan took them, cocking a thick brow as he examined the fit. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Well.” He ran his tongue over his teeth, trying to find the best way to say what he was thinking. "They look kind of...."

Jacob narrowed his eyes. "Kind of what?”

"Lame."

"What the hell do you know?” The younger brother snatched the jeans away and threw them back onto the pile. “You're old."

Declan couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Kid, I might be thirty-two but I still know how to dress. And this isn't it." He pulled another pair from the stack of folded jeans but was shocked to turn around to see Jacob's face bright red with silent fury. "Damn. Look, Jake, I—" Declan reached out for his brother, but he ducked out of his grasp.

"You don't know shit!" He stalked out of the store, leaving Declan standing helplessly among a throng of shoppers who were casting him curious stares.

What the hell was that? Returning the jeans to the shelf, he went out of the department store and into the nearest music store—Jacob’s usual spot—and wandered up and down the aisles but didn't catch sight of his brother. From the music shop, he went into a shoe store, and then into an electronics store where he finally found Jacob in front of a video game display, his fingers flying furiously back and forth across the controller as his character fired an M4 at a zombie on the screen. "What’s going on with you today, Jake?"

He didn't look at him.

"Look, I'm sorry I said the jeans were lame. They're fine. If you like them, we'll buy them. It’s not a big deal, okay?"

His brother still didn't spare him a glance as he shot a few more zombies.

Declan ducked his head and bumped Jacob's shoulder. "Come on. I'll buy you a pair in all the colors, okay? And then we'll go for pizza afterwards. We still have to get pens and binders. You love doing that kind of stuff."

"I don't want the stupid jeans."

Declan raised his brows. "Okay. We'll look for different ones. How about American Eagle, or Abercrombie? Or, you know, maybe just some standard Levis might work too?"

Jacob whirled around, almost shoving right into his brother. "I. Don't. Want. The. Fucking. Jeans!"

Maybe it was the mother a few feet away who was now covering her daughter’s ears and scowling at his brother’s loud outburst, or Jake’s eye roll just before he returned his attention to shooting zombies, but Declan finally lost his cool.

"Jesus, Jake, fine! Whatever you want!" There were times when dealing with his younger brother really grated his nerves and this was one of them. He just didn't understand what the hell Jacob wanted sometimes. "But don't come crying to me when you don't have anything to wear to school on Monday because I'm not going to drive you to the mall again, understand? So pick your pants and let's get out of here."

Jake returned the gaming remote to the display and skulked away with his brother just a few feet behind him. "That's what it is with you, isn't it?” He shot a dark look over his lanky shoulder. “Always on your timing?"

"What the hell do you want from me, Jacob? In case you haven't noticed, I have to work full time to earn enough money to buy that house you're living in, the food you're eating, and the clothes on your back. So, yeah, we're doing things on my timing. You don't have a say."

"But that’s just it!"

"What?"

Declan was astonished to see a fresh glaze of angry tears wash across his brother’s eyes. "Money! I know it's hard on you.” Jake dropped his gaze to the carpeted floor and dragged in a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was barely a whisper. “Good jeans are too expensive."