Chapter 5 #2
So yeah, I don’t want to get out of bed this morning.
My face feels puffy, and I’m still reeling from my pity party that left me in miserable tears—I blame the chardonnay for that.
But instead of wallowing over the fact that I’m alone in this world, divorced at the tender age of twenty-seven, living in a town I know nothing about, and have only one friend to my name, I pull my raggedy ass out of bed, get dressed, and head to the local garden center.
There, I purchase myself a boatload of bulbs.
And it is with these beautiful bulbs that I now find myself digging through the dirt beds of my front lawn.
Sure, I don’t own this home, but my landlady gave me the green light to plant, so that’s what I’m doing.
Because I’m determined to still be living here in the spring when these suckers bloom.
When all these beautiful multicolored tulips, crocuses, and daffodils sprout.
Wiping my forehead of the sweat it’s accrued, I sit back on my haunches and survey my work. I might have gone a bit overboard with the planting, but can a person go overboard with flowers? They’re pretty.
For the last hour and a half I’ve been toiling in the September sun, I’ve forced myself not to peer over at Landon’s house. It’s been a challenge, let me tell you. First of all, these houses are super close to each other. Like, the side of my house is less than thirty feet from the side of his.
It’s a problem.
At least for the way my mind likes to wander to our night in the hotel. He may have been ruder than sin last night, but unfortunately, when he looked at me, I still felt that spark. There was heat in his eyes, even before I disrobed.
It’s been so long since I felt anything that remotely resembled a spark or electricity or even freaking attraction.
So. Long . I’ve been a starved woman left alone on a deserted island with no food or water to satiate me.
So this whole not peeking next door to see if I can glimpse the hot neighbor who screws like a dirty demon and admittedly wants nothing to do with me?
It’s not going so well.
My eyes have a mind of their own. Like right now as I squint, trying like a crazy woman to peer in through his window for a chance to spot him. Hell, I don’t even know if he’s home right now.
Dammit, did he have to lie to me? Did he have to be so cold and unfeeling?
I hate him for what he did and how he treated me after, and yet I’m intrigued by him.
But any intrigue I feel is a ruse. It’s part of the lie he propagandized.
I’ve had enough of men mistreating me. The last thing I need is to go looking for more in a man like Landon Fritz.
Dignity, Elle. Right. You don’t need men. They need you. Obviously. Of course.
I square my shoulders and resume my digging, only to gasp out a loud, startled shriek when someone asks, “What are you planting?” from directly behind me.
I twist around and peer up, shielding my eyes from the intrusive sun.
My other dirt-covered hand goes to my chest to calm my racing heart.
It takes me a second to focus until I realize I’m staring at a young girl with stormy blue eyes set atop round, rose-tinted cheeks and full, pale lips.
Her chestnut brown hair is nearly down to her waist in soft mermaid waves, and she’s wearing a cropped green T-shirt that hits right at her waist, jeans, and a big, bright smile.
She’s beautiful in a very classic way.
Like a starlet from The Golden Age of Hollywood.
She also looks insanely familiar, though I’m positive I’ve never seen her before. “Hi,” I squeak. “You scared me.”
“I did. Sorry. Wasn’t exactly what I was going for. But I saw you digging, and I was curious. I’m Stella,” she introduces, extending her hand to me.
Very proper for a girl who cannot be older than twelve or thirteen. “So very nice to meet you, Stella. I’m Ellery, but you can call me Elle.”
I stand, staring helplessly down at my dirty gloved hands, and then hastily remove them so I can shake her tiny one. I study her a moment longer as we shake.
“I live there.” She points to Landon’s house. “You met my dad last night.”
Well, that explains why she looks so familiar. I can’t help it. I blush. I had sex with this girl’s father not even two days ago, and last night he saw me mostly naked again. Does she know? I doubt it. I can’t imagine Landon goes around telling his daughter that sort of thing. I hope.
“You look just like your dad.”
She smiles even wider at that, releasing my hand and surveying my flower beds with a scrutiny that tells me she’s no stranger to planting in the soil. “He says I look like my mom.”
Her mom. Jesus, is he actually married? Am I going to meet her mother, his wife?! How could he cheat like that? I feel sick as I say, “Oh, I haven’t met her yet.”
Her smile instantly evaporates. “You won’t. She’s dead. Died when I was four.”
Well, shit. Now I feel bad. For so many reasons I can hardly begin to think of them all.
“I’m sorry. I have a real knack for sticking my foot in my mouth.”
Stella shrugs up a small shoulder. “It’s fine.
I’m used to it. So you’re planting bulbs?
You should come see my garden in my backyard.
I have all kinds of things, though most of it is dying off now that we’re at the end of the season.
Once the pumpkins and kale are done, I’ll be down to what I grow in my greenhouse. ”
“You have a greenhouse?”
“Yeah. My dad designed it and had it built for me.”
“Wow. I’m super jealous. Do you grow just vegetables or plants too?”
She giggles lightly. “I grow both, though I end up donating most of the produce and things to local food banks. You can come see it. Some day after school would be fine.”
I stare at her for a moment, wondering what I should say in response.
I highly doubt her father wants me anywhere near her, let alone in their home.
Not just that, but the more distance I place between myself and him, the better.
But she doesn’t have a mom, and she’s asking to show me something that’s clearly special to her.
And special to me because I absolutely love growing things.
Speaking of, I wonder if she goes to the middle school I’m going to be teaching in.
“I’d love that,” I tell her, curious if it will actually happen. Probably not, I decide. Kids her age throw out things and rarely follow through. “But how come you don’t use any of it yourself?”
“I wish I could, but I don’t know how to cook, and my dad isn’t a lot of help with that.”
I open my mouth to ask her more about that when someone calls her name.
Both of us whip around to find Landon standing in the middle of his front lawn, watching us. His expression is neutral enough, but his eyes, they are steel narrowed in at me, sending a chill up my spine and making my heart beat just a touch faster.
“We have to get going to the compound,” he tells her.
Compound? What the blip is a compound?
Stella whirls back toward me. “I gotta go. We have Sunday dinner at my grandparents’ place.”
Well, I guess that explains it. But a compound? Yeesh. Billionaires indeed.
“It was nice meeting you, Stella. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
“I hope so.” She beams at me before running off, straight past her father, who is unmoved, and back into the house.
I twist in Landon’s direction, propping my fists on my hips and tilting my head.
All attitude. Challenging the asshole. He hasn’t said a word to me.
All he’s done is eviscerate me with his darkened eyes as energy swirls between us like the coming of a storm.
I squint at him, ignoring the spine-tingling jolt I feel when I’m near him.
“I’m dressed today, so if you’re looking for a different visual from me, I’m sorry to say you’re not getting it.” I wave my hand up and down my body like a game show hostess and even do a little twist for him.
He scowls, his eyebrows tracking in as his gaze does a slow sweep of me, taking in my bare feet, dirty yoga pants, and haphazard shirt.
His scowl deepens, and I swear to God, if he makes a disparaging comment about how I look, I’ll march over there and smack that scowl right off his face. With my dirty hand.
Unfortunately, this broody, growly thing he has going on also makes him look insanely hot. Life can be so unfair sometimes.
“You get your fill yet?” I bark when he still hasn’t moved or said anything or stopped staring as intensely as he’s staring. Like he’s picturing me naked. And just the idea that he is shoots a rush of heat straight to my core.
God, he’s such a jerk.
A sexy jerk who manages to make my traitorous nipples hard, but still a jerk.
He puffs out a breath, shakes his head at the ground, and without a word, spins around and marches off.
“Nice chatting with you,” I yell after him, smiling at the hint of a grumble I catch. And because I can, I stare at his ass as he goes. It’s only fair. I’m positive he was staring at my boobs a little longer than he should have.
I sink back down to the ground, replacing my gloves and diving back into the earth with gusto. Aggravated. Annoyed. Stupidly turned on.
I’m glad he didn’t say anything.
It’s just as well. Perfect even. The last thing I need is for my hot sex god of a neighbor to engage with me.