The Neighbor's Son (The Forbidden Love Series: Book 1)

THE NEIGHBOR'S SON

(THE FORBIDDEN LOVE SERIES BOOK
1)

BY

ELLA WARD

THE NEIGHBOR'S SON

THE FORBIDDEN LOVE SERIES: BOOK
1

Copyright 2015 ELLA WARD

All rights reserved.

Published by Ella Ward at
Smashwords

This book is a work of fiction. Names,
characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual
persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely
coincidental.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

CHAPTER VI

DEAR READER

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

CHAPTER
I

"You have got to be kidding me," I
whined, groaning into my pillow while the alarm on my phone blared
away. "How can it be morning already? I just went to sleep." Well,
not really. I did go to bed at a reasonable hour the night before.
I just didn't fall asleep until dawn was breaking. It was one of
those nights when you can't get your mind to stop racing no matter
how hard you try to shut it off.

Too sleepy to reach for the phone and
toss it out the window, I pulled the covers over my head and tried
to ignore the annoying beep. As the phone went silent, I thought
about spending the morning in bed to catch up on some much needed
sleep. After all, it was a Saturday and I didn't have to go to
work. But then I remembered that I had a yoga class that morning
and many errands to run that day. So I peeled my sleep-deprived
body off the bed and dragged it into the bathroom.

After a long, cold shower, my body felt
a little stiff but I was fully awake. Realizing I didn't have much
time before I had to be at my class, I quickly slipped into my
favorite black and gold yoga outfit and rushed back into the
bathroom to do my hair. There, I stared at my make-up free face in
the mirror, and that’s when it hit me: I was no longer Mrs. Peter
MacDougal. Even though Peter and I had been separated for over a
year prior to finalizing our divorce, the magnitude of that
life-altering event hadn't really sunk in until that morning when I
caught my reflection in the mirror. It didn’t even register when I
signed the papers in his lawyer's office two days earlier. I guess
part of me was still in denial about the whole thing.

I let out a heavy sigh while pulling my
long, auburn hair into a high ponytail. A mixture of dread and fear
washed over me. The word ‘divorcee’ is a term I never thought I'd
use to describe myself. But there I was: A thirty-two-year-old
childless divorcee, alone in a house too big for one person and
wondering where the last fourteen years of her life had
gone.

I had been with Peter since I was
eighteen years old. When I met him, I was a freshman at Boston
College and worked part-time at a fancy restaurant in downtown
Boston. One night after my shift, my crappy car broke down in the
middle of the road and Peter stopped to help. After calling me a
tow truck, he gave me a ride back to my dorm. On the way to the
campus, I learned that Peter was single, worked in real estate, and
was fifteen years older than me.

The age difference worried me, but
Peter was so charming and confident I decided to overlook it. When
he dropped me off at my dorm that night, he asked me for my number
and I gave it to him. He called a week later and took me on the
most romantic date I had ever been on. We became inseparable after
that.

Peter and I had been dating for just a
few months when he got down on one knee and put a gigantic 18-karat
diamond ring on my finger. I said yes without hesitation. Many
people around me told me I was rushing into things, but I ignored
their warnings. What can I say? Back then, I was a naïve and
inexperienced eighteen-year-old. Prior to Peter, I had never had a
real boyfriend. Most guys I met back then were total jerks who were
only interested in getting in my pants, or at least that's what it
felt like.

Then Peter came along. He said all the
right things, treated me like a princess and swore to always be
faithful to me. I believed his promises, married him, and moved
across the country with him. Looking back, I wish I hadn’t done any
of those things. Just a few months into our marriage, the true
Peter revealed himself. He became possessive and condescending and
was incapable of keeping it in his pants.

Every time I confronted Peter about his
cheating, he either denied he was stepping out on me or promised
he’d never do it again. But he kept sticking it into anything that
walked. I wanted to leave him but the naïve girl within me always
told me not to. I honestly thought I could change him.

All that changed a year ago when I
decided to pop in to Peter’s office unannounced and found a
half-naked, voluptuous blonde sprawled across Peter’s desk with her
legs up in the air. Peter rabidly plunged into her until he saw me
standing at the door. After witnessing that disgusting, humiliating
scene, I ran home. Peter didn't even bother to chase after me.
That's when I realized I had to leave the scumbag. Peter MacDougal
was a philandering prick and was never going to stop being
one.

Later that day, Peter came home and I
told him I was leaving him. Once again, he begged me to forgive him
and promised he’d change. I refused to listen to any more of his
lies and empty promises. The man had no respect for me or our
marriage. That night, I made him sleep on the couch in the living
room. The next day I packed all his things and hired a moving
company to take them to his office. Afterward, I visited my
lawyer's office and filed for divorce.

Leaving Peter was the scariest thing I
had ever done. All of a sudden, I had to learn to get by on my own,
something I hadn’t done in over a decade. I have a teaching degree
but hadn’t taught a single day in my life because Peter wouldn’t
let me work. Who’s going to hire a thirty-two-year-old teacher with
no experience? I wondered. Would I have to give up the house and
get a place of my own? How was I going to afford it? Would I have
to move and leave all my friends behind? These were the type of
questions that kept me up at night.

This past year was a pretty hectic one
for me to say the least. But with the help of my friends and my
very competent lawyer, I landed on my feet. I found a per-diem
teaching position at a nearby private school. Even though we had a
pre-nup, my lawyer got my scumbag ex-husband to agree to let me
keep the house. Alimony payments were also part of the divorce
settlement, but I wasn’t exactly swimming in cash. The house, a
4-bedroom Spanish-style home, wasn’t cheap to maintain, and my per
diem teaching job didn’t pay much. But I was comfortable and
grateful that I didn’t have to alter my lifestyle too much after
the divorce.

But my finances were not the only thing
stressing me out. Getting back into the dating scene had been a
frustrating, terrifying experience. I have been on very few dates
post-Peter. And that's because I'm very awkward in them. I just
don't know how to act or what to say. After trying out the club
scene a few times, I decided I was too old for it. And I won't even
get into the horrifying experiences I've had with online dating.
Let's just say that the last guy I met online creeped me out so
much, I decided to get rid of my computer.

After the most recent disaster date, I
decided to swear men off for a while and focus on other aspects of
my life such as my career. I started writing a lot and spending
time with friends. I also considered going back to school to get a
master's degree. The last few months leading to the signing of the
divorce papers were fun, productive ones for me. But I knew that
sooner or later I was going to have to start dating again. Dating
terrified me, but the possibility of spending the rest of my life
alone terrified me even more.

That morning in the bathroom, I
examined my face and body carefully in the mirror. I thought I
looked decent for thirty-two. I didn’t have any lines on my face
yet which I was grateful for. I practiced a lot of yoga and watched
what I ate so my body was in good shape. Still, I didn’t think
there were too many grown, normal men out there looking to date a
shy, sheltered divorcee with tons of emotional baggage and trust
issues.

After I finished doing my hair, I
stepped back into the bedroom to put on my running shoes. It was a
beautiful, cool late spring morning. The sun was shining bright,
and I couldn’t wait to get outside. I checked the time again. When
I saw how late I was for my yoga class, I began shoving things
inside my bag as fast as I could. That's when the doorbell began
buzzing. With my yoga mat under one arm and my bag slung over the
other, I rushed downstairs.

I made my way to the front door
thinking either a salesman or a Jehovah’s Witness was paying me a
visit that early on a Saturday. I swung the door open, ready to
politely dismiss whoever was on the other side of it. If I didn't
get on the road immediately, I was going to miss my
class.

"Listen. I'm sorry but...," I said, my
voice trailing off when my eyes landed on the tall glass of hotness
standing on my welcome mat.

Holy crap.

My mind went blank and my pulse began
to race. The man was, without a doubt, the most gorgeous specimen I
had ever laid eyes on. I’m talking movie star gorgeous. I just
stared at him with my mouth hanging open. He was mesmerizing.
Pretty, too pretty… and also young, not jail bait young, but young
enough that I felt like a total pervert for having the thoughts I
was having. Suddenly, yoga didn't seem so important. I was ready to
buy whatever it was that gorgeous boy was selling.

“
Hi. My name is Cade and I
just moved into the house at the end of the block,” the handsome
man-boy said, reaching out for my hand. A crooked grin stretched
his ridiculously gorgeous face. I saw dimples. Sigh. I'm a sucker
for dimples on a man's face. His voice was deep, gravelly, sexy as
hell. I detected a bit of an accent. Midwestern maybe. I set the
rolled-up yoga mat down between my legs so I could shake his hand.
It felt calloused and rough against mine, and I immediately started
to wonder how that hand would feel on other parts of my body. Stop
it, Sidney! He’s a child for God’s sake!

“
Hi, Cade. I’m Sidney.
Sidney MacDougal. Welcome to the neighborhood,” I managed to say
while pretending his astonishing hotness wasn’t turning my knees to
Jell-O. I smiled and nodded politely while he talked about his
family and the neighborhood. Or at least that's what I thought he
was talking about. The truth is I wasn't really listening to the
words coming out of his perfectly shaped, kissable lips. How could
I? I was too distracted by the pair of piercing sky blue eyes
trying to bore a hole through me. He stared at me in a way that
excited me but also made me uncomfortable. It was very strange.
Even though he looked very young, he had an air of confidence and
maturity about him that didn’t match his age. How old did he look?
I’d say twenty, twenty-two tops.

I held Cade’s gaze for most of the
conversation but I noticed his eyes would occasionally slip down to
my breasts and my bare midriff. He clearly liked what he was seeing
judging by the way he held his lower lip between his teeth every
time his wandering eyes rolled up and down my Lycra-covered
body.

When I managed to wrestle my eyes away
from his smoldering gaze, I noticed he had a body that was just as
spectacular as his face. He had a tight, sleeveless t-shirt on that
drew attention to his bulging, sun-kissed biceps. The t-shirt was
tight and thin enough that I could see some of the cords and ridges
on his torso through it. Cade was definitely not a stranger to the
gym. He had a muscular body, but not yucky, body builder muscular.
His build was more like that of a runner or a boxer, which to me
was just perfect.