Romance with Mr. Grumpy Pants: A Witty, Opposites Attract, Enemies to Lovers, Next Door Neighbor, Sw

1. Jessica

It’s the perfect day. Or so I thought.

I sip my coffee and savor the calm of a morning where the sun is warm enough for a mild tan, with gentle puffs of air billowing. Maybe I’ll finish writing my romance novel today.

Honk, honk. I smile. Lily’s school bus is right on time, as any great day should start. I turn to my eight-year-old daughter and hold her hand.

“Go on, honey. Your bus is here.”

Her fingers let go of mine. She kisses me on the cheek, grabs her backpack, and runs to the bus. “See you later, Mom!”

I wave with my heart almost bursting through my chest. I swear, kids grow up in the blink of an eye. Wasn”t it just yesterday she”d cling to me and bawl her eyes out, refusing to get on the bus alone? Now she’s promising to see me later in the day. Sheesh, take it easy with the growth, little lady. You’re tearing mommy’s hea—

A loud clang turns my attention to the house next door. Hmm. Wonder what’s going on there. As I follow Lily out, I see a van parked in front of the house with several people scurrying around. Some carry boxes and others musical equipment. Sprayed onto the side of the truck in bold font is EBB.

Ahh, yes.That rings a bell. Gina, my cousin and editor, mentioned something about a band moving into town. What she didn’t tell me was that it would be this early in the morning and that they’d be my neighbors.

Now…wait a gosh darn minute. Who in the world is that?

A shirtless man jumps out of the truck with a duffle bag. The Greek God of love must have carved his face because those chiseled jaws were made to make the daughters of earth fall.

While taking a look around, he crosses his arms across his sweaty, muscular chest, and his jet-black hair gleams beautifully in the morning sun. In loose-fitting sweatpants and fresh kicks, he carries himself as if oblivious to his own allure. As he sets down the duffle, stretches, and casually runs his hand through his hair, I find myself subconsciously biting my lips. Goodness.Is it me or did it suddenly just get about ten degrees hotter out here?

“Hey, Jess.” Jim’s voice startles me back to the present.

Jimmy Heathrow is a family friend known as Big Jim to South Brook. He’s been driving the South Brook Elementary School bus for as long as I can remember.

“Hey, Jim,” I answer. “How are you today?”

He grunts and says something I barely hear. Knowing Jim, it’s better than what most people get from him.

“I hear he’s the leader of the band.” He nods toward the man I can’t stop gawking at.

That would explain why he now seems to be dishing out the orders. He throws a round-neck tee on, but the sleeves seem a little too tight around his biceps. A very welcome inconvenience, if you ask me.

“He sure looks like one,” I reply.

“Looks like? Nah. That’s him alright. I know these things.”

“Suuuure you do.” I roll my eyes. “He doesn’t look half bad, though.”

Half bad?Nah, he looks good. Too good to be one of these band members. He can easily pass for a model or, better yet, a hunky alpha male from one of my novels. I smirk at my wit.

Suddenly, he turns in my direction. My smile suddenly becomes plastered to my face like a piece of gum under a shoe. I can’t shake it off or look away. It’s like he holds me captive with his dead stare. He must stand in the mirror and practice that look in his spare time. I wait for his lips to curl into a smile. Honestly, I bet it’ll make him look even more handsome. But they don’t, not even a smirk.

I wave and shout, “Hi!”

Maybe he’ll flash me a wink. Something. Nothing. He looks away, picks up a box, and heads inside.

What the…

“Is he always that rude?” I ask. It’s rhetorical, so I don’t expect Big Jim to say anything.

I’m pretty sure he saw me. He looked me square in the eyes and blatantly decided to ignore me.

Well, so much for a perfect day.

“Bye, Mom,” Lily calls. Her schoolmates join in on the wave goodbye as the bus pulls out of my front yard.

“Bye, baby.”

“See you around, Jess,” Big Jim says.

I swear I can see the new guy crack a smile right before Big Jim drives off. Big Jim must’ve seen it, too. My new neighbor just brushed me off like I don’t matter. Does he think we won’t see each other again? I mean, we live next to each other. Hmph, his loss.

My eyes follow the bus until it disappears around the corner, and then walk back inside. If he will be disrespectful, perhaps it’s for the best. I’m not in the mood for company and small talk anyway. Should I give him the benefit of the doubt, though? He could simply be exhausted from the move. Whatever.

I head to Lily’s room. It’s organized, with only a few teddy bears and dolls lying around the bed. I pick them up and sit at the edge of her bed, patting the pillow. There’s a picture of her on her nightstand, capturing her all dressed up for her first ballet performance.

For the most part, she’s just like I was when I was her age. Her hair is curly and blonde, not snowy, just the perfect balance between auburn and white. Her eyes are like mine, too. Only mine are a much lighter shade of blue. She’s photogenic and poses just like her Dad used to, and unlike me, he was a stickler for pictures, as he was with romance.

But that was a lifetime ago. There’s no more room for love and the like in my now-hectic schedule. All that matters is Lily and my novels.

I slide my thumb over the edge of the frame. It’s her favorite picture, at least for the meantime. I still remember every detail of that morning. I found her in her room, getting ready for the recital in the worst possible way.

The front locks of her hair were spotted with red, the same redness that was zigzagged all over her face. It was an ambush of scarlet all over her puffy cheeks, reaching as far as her ears. Her weapon of choice, my lipstick, was still on the floor next to her.

‘I’m sorry, Mommy,’ she had confessed, while her dainty five-year-old fingers had rubbed against her face, partially covering her eyes.

I simply stared at her, too stunned to react at first. ‘What were you thinking?’ I considered asking but didn’t. Instead, I exclaimed, ‘What happened here, Lily?’

Now that I think about it, it was a silly question. It was as clear as day. She experimented with my makeup and got lipstick all over her clothes and in her hair. Lily’s reaction had been an Oscar-worthy performance that day. I giggle to myself as the memory replays vividly in my mind.

‘I…I only wanted to look extra beautiful like a princess,’ she insisted in her usual manner, neither protesting nor pleading. It was just an innocent statement by a curious, sweet little girl.

How could anyone stay angry at that? Not me. I fell for her ploy, turning soft at once.

‘Extra beautiful? What do you even mean by that?’

‘My teacher says everyone else in school is beautiful, and I…I wanted to look extra special. You know…just like you.’

That did it. All the anger I felt dissipated in an instant. I crouched low, holding her little hands in mine. ‘You don’t need lipstick to look extra beautiful.’

I pulled her in for a big squeeze, ignoring that my clothes would be stained with lipstick. She kept mumbling her apologies over and over again.

‘You’re the cutest girl in all of South Brook. You know that, right?’

‘I know,’ she nodded, twiddling her thumbs. ‘You tell me that all the time.’

I hugged her again, muttering how she was the best thing that ever happened to me. A few tickles did the trick. She was laughing in no time.

But, as I reminisce, the smile on my lips fades.

Maybe if my Liam were still alive, he’d be more of a tough cop than I could ever be. Playing good cop and bad cop can be exhausting at times. Now, I’m simply a romance writer with no romance left in my life. How ironic.

The pink bunny-shaped clock on Lily’s bedstead catches my eye and snaps me out of rehashing my memories. It’s 7:53 am, and there’s hardly enough time to get this house in order and return to my work desk. Oh, well. Here goes everything.

I hurry back into the kitchen. It’s an elegant, bright space, far more organized than my bedroom, where notepads, sticky notes, and several random pieces of clothing are scattered everywhere. Instead, the lingering smell of pancakes from Lily’s breakfast fills every corner of the white-walled kitchen, welcoming anyone who steps inside.

There are bits of flour scattered on the countertop. The perfectionist in me can’t leave that there. I can’t do anything unless my house is tidy. I grab a rag and wipe it clean, clean enough to see a reflection of my weary face on the marble surface. I’m wearing my favorite mismatched scarf on my head. The stress lines on my cheek and the bags underneath my eyes are now second nature.

I draw in a long, deep breath, a rare break amidst the morning chaos of school preparations. Just as I try to savor the tranquility, the oven’s abrupt ding disrupts the peace, signaling more tasks to tackle. I proceed to pull the quiche out of the oven. The first batch was for Lily’s lunch and this one is my breakfast.

Clearing the table, I step outside for fresh flowers to add a touch of Zen inside my space. I can’t help but notice the new neighbors in a flurry of activity. Wow, that sure looks like a lot of junk.

Going over to say hello is no longer an option, his earlier manners rendering the idea impalpable. I should keep to myself for now.

I discreetly scan through the piles of boxes and equipment from where I stand. I don’t see any kids toys or playpen among the piles, not even a child-sized guitar or bicycle. He must be single then. That could explain why he’s rude. Or is it the other way around? Whatever. I don’t care.Stop thinking about it…him.

What matters right now is getting fresh flowers for my living room vase and then working on my novel, not some annoying boy band moving in next door.