Chapter 3
Sloane Bennett
I spend the afternoon putting away most of the boxes I brought with me.
It doesn’t seem like much now that everything is out of my ex-husband’s home. It felt like we had so much stuff until it was split down the middle and lugged to two different places.
It’s a good thing my aunt left the house furnished. It could take a while to receive my divorce settlement, and there’s still no job on the horizon.
I need to make time to look for one, but in all honesty, I’m wrecked right now.
I’d like to put some time into the house first. It’s the gift of a lifetime, and I’ll be forever grateful my aunt left it to me.
A knock on the front door pulls me from my thoughts.
I wonder which neighbor is coming to disturb my peace this time.
When I open the door, I find another woman I’ve yet to meet standing on the porch.
“Hello,” I say politely.
“Hi, I’m Samantha. I wanted to introduce myself. It’s so nice to meet you.”
Samantha must be in her mid-sixties. Her hair is mostly dark brown with wisps of gray throughout it. Her high cheekbones are dusted with a little too much blush, and she’s wearing a long yellow-and-white polka-dot dress that looks like something out of a seventies magazine.
Her tone is warm, and so is the energy coming off her.
I can instantly tell she was friends with my aunt and that they were most likely close. If the pity settling over her face isn’t my first clue, her next words definitely are.
“I’m sorry to come over unannounced. I’m sure you’re juggling a lot, but I had to meet you and make sure you were okay. Shirley and I were really close, and I just...” Samantha’s voice catches. “It’s been so awful. I can only imagine how you must be feeling.”
Please don’t cry, or you’ll get me going too.
There’s something about her that makes me want to hear more, though. Something comforting.
I nod. “It really hasn’t been easy. Would you like to come in and talk? I was just about to sit down with some tea.”
“I would really love that. Thank you.”
I gesture for Samantha to come inside, and she follows me into the kitchen. I pour us each a glass of iced tea before we settle at the counter.
“It’s hard being surrounded by all her stuff,” I admit.
She nods in understanding.
“It’s hard just walking in here, to be honest. But I can still feel her here with me.”
I smile because that’s the most genuine thing I’ve heard since arriving.
“I do too.”
“She was so excited about you coming to live with her. Shirley mentioned that you were already going through some troubles of your own.”
I look away.
Boy, was I ever.
“My divorce finally went through,” I choke out as the grief threatens to crush me all over again.
“She was such a special lady. I miss her every day. The neighborhood just isn’t the same without her.”
I give Samantha a soft smile. “I bet she had a way of making everything fun.”
“She sure did. She was always the life of the party.”
Samantha hesitates, looking off for a moment before determination settles over her face.
“I don’t want to push you or be too forward, but I’d love to host a celebration in her honor. Shirley was always the one who hosted our annual block party. She loved doing it, and she had the best backyard out of all of us. Even if Celeste tries to say otherwise.”
Samantha huffs in clear disapproval.
My eyes widen.
So that explains the backyard.
“That explains why it’s so amazing out there.”
“Shirley loved hosting everyone. The party is supposed to be coming up, but with her passing so suddenly, we’ve all been in shock.”
I look down at my feet, unsure how to respond.
There’s no way I feel up to hosting a neighborhood full of strangers.
“I’m sorry. I just don’t think I can handle hosting everyone yet.”
Samantha steps toward me, her eyes widening with concern.
“Oh no, sweet girl. Of course not. I would never presume that. I want to take this off your plate. I only wanted your permission. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to steal anything from you. I just want to make things easier.”
I nod, still trying to process everything.
“So, I was thinking I could host it at my house and hold it in Shirley’s honor.”
“I wouldn’t have to do anything? Are you sure?”
“No, Sloane. Heaven knows you’re going through enough. Let me do this for both of you. In all honesty, it would keep an old woman busy and stop me from missing my dear friend quite so much.”
I give her what feels like my first genuine smile in weeks.
“Of course. That’s really thoughtful, Samantha. Thank you.”
“It’s truly my pleasure.”
She takes a long sip of her iced tea before leveling me with a look.
What is she going to ask now?
Maybe I had the wrong read on this woman.
“I’ve noticed Cal has been over here every chance he gets.”
I roll my eyes. “Seriously. What is his problem?”
“He always helped Shirley. I think this house is his secret pet project.”
“It doesn’t feel very secret.”
Samantha laughs, and it’s a loud, wonderful sound that fills the room.
I crack a smile at my own joke.
“Besides,” she continues, wiggling her eyebrows at me, “he has a much bigger incentive to come over now.”
“So, he is single.”
She laughs again. “Yes. That one isn’t much for relationships.”
“I see.”
“He’s a good guy. I’ve always thought he had his head on straight, at least.”
“Well, that’s a decent criterion to meet, I suppose.”
“I suppose. He seems to be losing it a little lately, though.”
Her expression turns sad again.
“Why is that?”
I can’t help being curious about the sex god.
Samantha looks at me, and the sadness in her eyes shifts into something I can’t quite place.
“He’s the one who found Shirley. It’s safe to say he’s been different since then. More closed off, maybe angrier. I can’t quite get a read on him anymore.”
Oh God.
Cal is the one who found my aunt after her stroke?
“That’s awful.”
I know someone had to find her, but I guess I never let myself think about that part. I never asked.
My gaze drifts across the street through the kitchen window.
There’s more to that man than what meets the eye.
Samantha nods and takes the final sip of her tea.
As nice as it has been to meet her and get some much-needed information, I can’t talk about this any longer.
“It was lovely to finally meet you, Sloane. I’ll let you get on with your evening. Thank you for the tea, and I’ll keep you updated about the block party. You won’t have to do a thing. I’ll handle everything.”
“Okay. Thank you. It was nice meeting you too, Samantha.”
I walk her out and watch until she makes it home.
The sun is starting to set, and nighttime is when the loneliness hits the hardest.
A big glass of wine and a hot bath should do the trick.
And if they don’t, that’s what my vibrator is for.
???
I wake to the god-awful sound of lawn mowers.
They’re coming from every direction.
What time even is it, and why the hell is everyone mowing right now?
Can no one appreciate the peace and relaxation a Sunday morning is supposed to bring?
I fling off the covers and peek through my second-floor window.
The neighbor to my right, who I haven’t met yet, is riding around on his mower. The older woman whose name I can’t remember has a landscaping company doing hers. She’s the one who stopped me on my way to the grocery store and told me to come over for muffins.
I hear a fainter mower across the court too.
I’m sure the sex god is already up and at it this morning.
Can’t a woman sleep in once in a while?
I thought this place was supposed to be peaceful.
I mosey around the house, trying to wake up. Looking at everything that needs to be done is more than a little overwhelming.
I love my aunt, but had the woman never heard of paint?
Jesus, it’s chipping everywhere.
A fresh coat on these walls would make the place look a million times better.
I’m still wearing my yellow satin slip. I love how warm the house stays throughout the year. There’s something about sleeping in satin that makes me feel like a princess.
I would never admit that out loud.
Look good, feel good.
That’s what my mom always used to say.
Sunlight streams through the windows, and my gaze catches on my reflection in a dusty mirror hanging on the wall.
My chestnut hair is a mess, falling around my shoulders in wild waves. My freckles are out in full force.
I sure did miss them.
My bastard ex-husband made me cover them with makeup. He said he hated seeing them first thing in the morning.
What a dick.
Realizing he hated everything about the real me gives me a freeing feeling I can’t quite place.
Even after everything, I’ll forever be grateful to that stupid secretary for fucking him.
Good luck, girl.
You’re going to need it.
A knock at the door sends me into a tizzy.
This place is like a damn airport. There are constantly people coming and going, knocking on the door and disturbing my peace.
I’m not even dressed yet.
“Who is it?” I call through the door.
“Cal.”
“I’m not ready for visitors,” I tell him.
“I figured. I brought you a peace offering. Open up, grumpy.”
A scowl forms on my face.
I’m not grumpy.
No one in this neighborhood will let me sleep.
Including the sex god from hell.
Too curious to turn him away, I swing open the door, and my eyes immediately drop down his body.
He’s wearing shorts, sneakers, and a muscle tee that hugs him just right.
My Lord.
He smirks when my eyes eventually meet his.
“If you’re done checking me out, I brought coffee from my favorite place.”
I huff and cross my arms, annoyed at being called out, even though it was obvious what I was doing.
“It’s really good,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at me.
I can’t help cracking a smile.
He’s breaking me down already.
“Come on in.”
I step aside and let all those muscles pass me.
His arms.
Ugh.
They’re getting my morning libido going.
“Why, thank you, neighbor.”
He comes in behind me, and I immediately feel his eyes on my body.
“Jesus, Sloane. What are you wearing?”
“Like I said, I wasn’t ready for visitors.”
“Well, I’m one lucky man you decided to open the door for.”
I roll my eyes, and he follows me into the back sunroom. It has quickly become my favorite spot in the house.
He sits across from me, and his eyes devour every inch of my body.
Oh, I’m loving this.
A girl needs a confidence boost every once in a while.
“Who’s checking out who now?” I counter.
He grins without a trace of shame.
“I don’t think I’d ever be grumpy again if I woke up to this view every morning.”
His words land harder than I expect.
He’s all talk, though.
Who knows what he’s really like? A perpetual playboy, I’m sure.
“Don’t make me grumpier. Half the neighborhood woke me up with their overzealous lawn care. Seriously, what is wrong with this place?”
He laughs and flashes his brilliant white teeth.
“Yeah, no one sleeps in on Sundays, Sloane. You’ll get used to it.”
I let out a disgruntled grumble, and he watches me with amusement dancing in his eyes.
“Do you like the coffee, Grumpy Cakes?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“It’s a very accurate description, don’t you think?”
His grin is infectious and maddening.
“It’s too early to feel this violent, Cal.”
He laughs, and I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face.
Cal has a way of making me want to punch him and kiss him at the same time.
Those lips are something else.
“You really need to stop looking at me like that, sugar.”
My lashes lower over my eyes.
I want to lick sugar off him.
“Like what?”
“You know exactly how.” His voice drops. “You’re making it hard for me not to pin you against that window and wreck you senseless.”
“Not going to lie, I could use a good wrecking.”
Cal’s eyes widen before his pupils dilate.
“Don’t say things like that when you’re dressed like this.”
“You started it.”
He gives me a smoldering look. “I’ll finish it too.”
Holy hell.
This man is fire.
We stare at each other, and I’m beginning to wonder if that’s the only reason he came over.
“Yes, why did you come over this morning, Cal?”
I grab on to the question like a lifeline.
The last thing I need is a distraction like him.
His fire would consume whatever ashes I have left.
I don’t have it in me.
“A neighbor can’t drop by with coffee?”
“A neighbor can,” I begin. “But a certain neighbor has his mind in the gutter.”
“It’s not something I can help when I’m around you.”
“Look, it’s not that I’m not flattered, but I can’t get into anything right now. If you were actually close with my aunt, I’m sure she mentioned my ugly divorce.”
“She might have mentioned it, but I already knew your shithead ex-husband.”
That gives me pause.
“What? How?”
He shrugs. “We went to grade school together. He was a dick back then too.”
That makes me smile. “Yeah, he really is.”
“You can talk about it with me if you need to.”
“I don’t need to talk about him. I don’t care about him. We lost our relationship years ago. It’s the betrayal and humiliation I’m struggling with.”
“I understand the betrayal, but you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“You don’t know the full story.”
He smiles softly. “You’re underestimating your aunt’s ability to spill secrets after three mint juleps.”
A laugh bubbles out of me.
“Jesus, Shirley.”
My smile instantly breaks.
It’s another reminder of everything I’ve lost.
It feels like I’m mourning the life I thought I would have.
Cal reaches out and places a hand on my leg.
“Hey. Are you okay?”
I shake my head, trying to keep the tears from falling.
“I miss her. I was so excited to move in here, and now the house is just empty.”
Everything feels empty.
His other hand gently grips my chin and brings my eyes back to his.
“Don’t say that. That scumbag didn’t deserve you, and your aunt would give anything to be here right now.”
I look away again.
How can he read me so well?
Cal knows far too much about me.
“I know, Cal.”
I try to pull away, but he doesn’t let me.
“No. Look at me, Sloane. I don’t think you do.”
I freeze, caught off guard by the sudden firmness in his voice.
“You’re an amazing woman who didn’t deserve what happened to her. I’m blown away by how you’ve handled everything. You’re strong, Sloane. You didn’t take an ounce of that man’s shit.”
“Cal, stop. You’re being too nice, and right now, I just want to be sad. Don’t you understand that? You can’t fix everything.”
“Well, I can try, sugar.”
I smile at him.
He’s being really sweet, which somehow makes everything hurt more.
“Thank you for the coffee, Cal. I’ll see you later.”
He nods, understanding that he’s been dismissed.
“You can bet your sweet ass on that.”
He gives me a wink before walking out the front door.
He’s going to be trouble.
Maybe in the best way.