Chapter 3 Brewer
brEWER
I pulled up on my motorcycle and saw a moving van in the driveway of my new neighbor’s house.
Huh. That’s odd. She’d been there a couple of days already.
I was friends with the old man that owned the place.
Nice guy who lived in an apartment above the diner in town that he owned.
Him and his wife had lived in that house all of their adult lives.
Raised their children in it. But when she died, he couldn't stomach staying there.
Not with all the memories and the whispers of the past coming alive at night.
And I couldn't blame him. I found him on his porch out back one night at four in the morning and we had a long talk over the fence. I told him I’d help him find another place if he wanted to, and that was what led him to not only purchasing his apartment but investing in the diner below it.
That old man was living proof that second-chance lives did happen for everyone.
I parked my bike in the driveway as the garage door began to open.
There were two men hauling furniture into the house and a little girl, no more than five, running underneath their legs.
She was carrying sparkling bags filled with toys and rolling small suitcases behind her.
She seemed like a little spitfire ready to conquer the world.
Then, there was her mother. And no one would be able to deny how they were related. The two of them looked exactly alike. So much so that it kind of freaked me out a bit.
I watched her struggle with a few heavier boxes as the moving guys kept walking past her. Part of me wanted to dent their heads in by not helping, but a part of me was amused. She looked over at me with those piercing blue eyes and that determined stare, but it looked like she was studying me.
Watching me. Trying to get a feel of what I was all about.
I grinned as I watched her struggle with that box.
Part of me wanted to go over and help her, but part of me couldn’t get over how damn cute she was when she was frustrated.
Sweat was dripping down her neck and beginning to stain her shirt, and each time she came outside the fabric of her clothes clung a little tighter to her body.
I needed to get inside before I got myself into trouble.
I padded my way into the garage and closed the door behind me.
I made my way into my house, shrugging my leather vest off.
I tossed my sunglasses onto the kitchen table and made my way to the refrigerator, then pulled out a bottle of beer to chug down.
It had been a long day with the guys trying to sort through all this rat bullshit, but for some reason Diesel was still bucking against the damn idea.
I didn’t like it, but I started getting ideas of going to the guys behind his back to talk this shit through.
I threw back my beer, feeling as the burning alcohol dribbled all the way to my stomach.
It was easy to drain a bottle like that on a hot day like the one we were having.
I loved riding my bike, but on hot days underneath some jeans and my leather vest?
It was fucking miserable. I set the beer bottle on the kitchen counter and made my way to my front door.
I was feeling a little front porch sitting time.
I watched from the corner of my house. The only place that provided shade on my damn porch. The men kept coming and going with things like metal bed frames and mattresses. A couch and some chairs. A rickety kitchen table with chairs that looked more suited for firewood than for sitting.
Then, there was that woman.
Her and her little girl.
The more frustrated she grew, the more her nose scrunched up.
The woman’s hair would fall in her face and she would pucker her lips to try and get it out of the way.
I chuckled to myself as I watched her. She kept telling her little girl to not get underneath anyone’s feet.
She disappeared into the truck as her mother ran after her, and she came out sitting on one of the chairs the men were hauling into the house.
Fuck. That woman had her hands full with that one.
I smiled at the scene as she wrestled her daughter off the chair.
The movers seemed to be enjoying the spectacle as well.
The woman unlocked her car and started stacking toys in her daughter’s hands, then she took off, dropping dolls and shit behind her as the woman sighed.
She lobbed her head back and groaned so loud I could hear her from my porch and I shook my head.
Something told me that little girl took after her mother with all that spunk.
Every time my new neighbor came out of her house, I studied her.
Raked my eyes along her languid body and took in the valleys of her body.
The tits that bounced against her chest and the hips that swayed with every step she took.
Her sweat was disappearing beyond the hem of her shirt, probably rolling down those perfect mounds and finding their death along her nipples.
Those fucking nipples I’d love to wrap my lips around if I could ever get close enough.
She was a beautiful woman. With her dark red hair and her illuminating blue eyes and her soft features.
I bet her face lit up when she smiled.
I watched her tip the movers before they got into their van and left.
My eyes followed my neighbor back into her house, but there was a box still on the porch.
I sat there, waiting for her to come back out one last time.
Waiting patiently to get another glimpse of the sexy woman who had moved in next door with her little miniature edition.
But she never came back out.
I sat there for about twenty minutes before I pushed from my chair. I walked on over to her front door and gave it a knock, waiting for her to answer. She had probably forgotten it was sitting out there, and I didn’t want anyone to come by and snatch it off her porch.
I could hear the giggles from her daughter wafting around the house as the doorknob turned.
The door flew open and there she stood. With beads of sweat still dripping down her neck and her round aquamarine eyes staring up at me.
She was even more beautiful in person. Her skin was smooth and smelled of salt.
The dip in her waist was accentuated by the clinging of her shirt to her body.
It called to my hands like magnets to a refrigerator door.
I had to curl my toes into the concrete of her small porch to keep from lunging at her.
To keep from backing her into her new home and destroying it with memories of my cock between her thighs.
I gave her a playful grin as I nodded towards the cardboard on her porch.
“This box yours?” I asked.
She stuck her head out beyond the doorway as her eyes widened at the lone box.
“Yes. Yikes. Thank you,” she said.
She went to step out of the house to grab it, but I reached out for her body.
My hand landed on her shoulder before I could catch myself and electricity shot up my skin.
Her head whipped up to mine and I removed my hand, knowing I wouldn’t be able to stop from pulling her into me if I didn’t disconnect myself from her.
I moved to pick up the box in my hands, trying to put some much-needed distance between her and I.
“Where do you want it?” I asked.
“You don’t have to do that. I promise I can-”
“Where does it go?” I asked.
I held her gaze with mine as I cradled the box in my arms.
“This way,” she said. “Up the stairs.”
I followed her to the second floor of her home before we turned down the hallway.
She led me into a large bedroom. A bedroom that I figured was hers.
There was a bed frame that still needed to be put together and furniture haphazardly pressed against walls.
A mattress and box spring were laying against the closet doors with suitcases full of clothes pouring from the bathroom in the corner.
“Sorry. It’s a bit of a wreck,” she said.
“Moving always is,” I said as I stood there. “Where do you want it?”
“Anywhere is fine. You can drop it right where you are.”
“Suit yourself.”
I dropped the box at my feet as my eyes drifted around the room. It was a decent size. About the size of mine. That was what people got when living in cookie-cutter homes. Once you’ve seen one, you’ve seen all of them.
“Need any help?” I asked.
“Nope. I think I got it. The movers brought the last of my things.”
“Didn’t mean with moving.”
“Then what did you mean?” she asked.
I pointed over to the bed frame lying in pieces on the floor.
“Oh, that’s fine. I can get it tomorrow.”
“What are you sleeping on tonight?” I asked.
“The couch,” she said plainly.
Like she was fucking used to it.
I walked over to the metal frame and lowered to my knees. I could hear her protesting behind me, but I paid her no mind. No woman who ran after a child should be sleeping on a damn couch. I didn’t know her backstory or where she had come from, but I knew one thing was for certain.
She wasn’t the type to ask for help.
“You got a name?” I asked.
“I do. Do you?”
I grinned as my hands worked to piece the metal frame together.
“My friends call me Brewer,” I said.
“That a last name?”
“A nickname,” I said. “You got one?”
“No nickname. Just Makenna.”
“Pretty name, Makenna.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“I see you have a daughter.”
“I do. Her name’s Ana.”
“And I’m five.”
I turned my head around and saw the little girl standing in the doorway.
“That’s a big milestone, being five. You like it?” I asked.
“Yep. I started big girl school,” Ana said.
“Do you like big girl school?” I asked.
“I do. At least, I did. I hope I’ll like this one here.”
“I think you will. I went to school around here. The teachers are really nice. What's your favorite subject?”
I could feel Makenna’s eyes on me as I reached for the last piece of the metal bed frame.
“Coloring. That’s my favorite,” Ana said.
“Mine was nap time,” I said with a grin.