Chapter Two
L ate August...
Merry frowned, eyeing the crocus bulb with mounting skepticism. When she’d read the planting instructions at the store, they seemed simple enough. But as she prepared to put them in the ground, she wasn’t so sure.
She reached for the package and read them aloud. “Loosen the soil until it is workable. Ok, did that. Plant bulbs pointy end up.”
Merry looked at the bulbs in her hand. They were round. What pointy end? She perused the printed cardboard that came stapled to the yellow mesh bags for a picture and scowled. “How stupid is that? I guess they think everyone knows how to plant these dumb bulbs.”
A car zooming down the street behind her had her twisting around. It skidded to a halt, parking crookedly in Reese’s driveway. Another leggy woman got out, this one a brunette wearing tight jeans and a snug tee and flip-flops. She stormed up the sidewalk. Having lived there for several weeks, the parade of beautiful women visiting the condo across from her was hardly an uncommon occurrence.
Today’s visit was starting out much differently. Merry went back to digging with her hand trowel, watching from beneath the wide brim of her straw sun hat although trying hard not to look like it, as the brunette banged on the door. While she waited for an answer, she crossed her arms over a rather impressive chest and tapped her high-heel-clad toes. When the door swung open, Merry’s gaze shifted to the hole in front of her. Although she was dying to see what was happening, she wasn’t about to be caught gaping at him yet again.
When the woman raised her voice in anger, she got up to get the garden hose, even though she didn’t need it yet. Maybe she could get a peek while she was unraveling and connecting it to the outdoor faucet.
As she bent to brush off her knees and then reached behind her to do the same to the seat of her shorts, she froze when the woman shrieked, “You are a lying, cheating motherfucker. I hope the next woman you screw over chops your three-timing dick off. Thank God we used a condom, you...you...man whore!”
Merry couldn’t keep from staring at the language the furious woman used. So she saw when the brunette stomped to her car, pausing to flip him off before getting in then in a squeal of tires, gunned the car in reverse. Then, in the same fashion she arrived in, she raced down the street, running the stop sign at the end for good measure.
She told herself not to but couldn’t keep her head from swiveling back to look at Reese. He stood with his arms crossed, a black scowl on his face, staring at the end of their short street. Seriously, there were only seven houses and his speed-demon girlfriends were putting everyone at risk, especially the three kids under five. Before walking back into his house, he turned and skewered her with a brief, angry look.
She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve it, but she was glad when his door echoed with a loud thud behind him.
“That’s the fourth woman in a month,” Merry murmured, shaking her head. The man needed a revolving door.
“Actually, I think it’s the fifth.”
Merry twisted to see Mrs. Pittinger standing on her porch about fifteen feet away. She’d caught the latest episode of Reese Morgan’s Floozy of the Week show, too.
“By my count, there were three blondes and a brunette. There was also the one with long black hair. She was exotic looking.”
“I must have missed her.”
Must not be a fan of gingers. Too bad. He was missing out.
With the back of her hand, Merry pushed back several strands that had come loose from her ponytail. She refused to call it red, preferring strawberry blonde or titian. Thank goodness she didn’t have the ubiquitous freckles and had learned to tame the spring curls that had plagued her as a child. The bright ringlets had earned her plenty of nicknames. Carrot Top, Li’l Orphan Annie, and Strawberry Shortcake were some of the nicer ones. The name-calling and jokes had gotten progressively worse and more obscene when she’d hit high school.
“Poor boy,” Mrs. Pittinger said, snapping her out of her less than pleasant musings.
“What do you mean, poor boy? Are you worried he’ll get a back injury from changing his sheets?”
The older woman’s lips didn’t so much as twitch at her joke. Instead, she frowned. “No, dear, because he’s searching for something and not finding it.”
Merry rolled her eyes; the man was nothing but a horn dog! It seemed to her he was finding exactly what he was searching for—his next piece of ass.
Enough about him.
“So, Mrs. Pittinger, do you know anything about bulbs?”
Distracting the woman worked because she went off on an hour-long trivia-filled tangent about gardening. Merry was dirty, sweaty, and her hair had frizzed to twice its volume by the time she finished. In dire need of a shower and seeing to her growling stomach, which loudly protested that it was well past lunchtime, she packed up her plastic caddy and gathered her knee cushion. When a shadow crossed over, she squinted up at the tall figure blocking the sun.
“Are you wearing sunscreen?”
“Pardon me?”
“I could tell you were pink from across the street. Redheads have a tendency to burn.”
Didn’t the man know how to say hello? Twice now, he’d approached and started rifling questions at her.
With a tight smile, she nodded. “I applied SPF 30 before coming out this morning. Thank you for your concern.”
“I’m sorry for the disturbance this morning. Ashley wasn’t happy with me.”
Merry put her hand to her forehead, using it like a visor against the sun. With the light shining behind him, his face was in shadow and she couldn’t make out his features. “That’s a bit of an understatement, don’t you think? She was talking about lopping off body parts. That’s more than unhappy; that’s furious in my book. What did you do, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“She was expecting more than I was willing to give. I told her up front I didn’t want a relationship, but evidently she didn’t hear me.”
Merry swallowed the caustic remark on the tip of her tongue. The man was a looker but clearly a player. Heading for her garage to put everything away, she called over her shoulder, “I’m going for lemonade. Want a glass?”
It took a few seconds for her eyes to adjust from bright sunshine to the dimness of her garage. She was stowing everything on her gardening shelf when a deep voice said from behind her, “I’d love a glass.”
Merry spun with a hand to her racing heart. “Sheesh, you startled me. You move quietly for a big guy.”
“I’m sorry. I was just walking normally.”
She shrugged it off and eyed him up and down. Dressed for a run again, this time his chest and abs were covered, which was good for her peace of mind. Tall, dark, and handsome with tanned skin and tons of muscle was every girl’s fantasy man. Maybe having Don Juan in her condo wasn’t a good idea.
“You could stop after your run, if you’d rather.”
“No, hydrating before is a good thing, especially in this heat.”
“Okay, come on in.”
Leading the way into her back hall and beyond to her kitchen, she caught sight of herself in her mirrored china cabinet. Yikes! She shook herself mentally. He was just being friendly. What did he care if she was dirty and sweaty?
Heading for the sink, she scrubbed her hands and nails thoroughly then grabbed two tall glasses, filling them with ice. After she poured, she handed him his glass and pointed to her breakfast bar. “Want to sit?”
“Thanks.” He moved to one of the two stools, but before sitting, he raised the glass and took a deep sip. Merry had the pleasure of watching the muscles work in his throat as he swallowed.
“Mm, this good. It’s fresh, isn’t it?”
Even though she knew he was a player, he was seriously hot and did things to her, especially her brain. “Yeah,” she drawled, her thought processes sluggish in his presence as usual. “I, uh, can’t stand the fake powdery stuff.”
“Good for me,” he replied, smiling broadly before he downed almost all of it.
“More?” she asked.
“I better not. Hydrated is good, but waterlogged and running rarely end well.”
Not being a runner, she didn’t know but could imagine. Merry sat on the stool beside him and took a normal-size sip. She also tried to make small talk. But what could they possibly have in common?
“So, is my condo laid out like yours?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been in here.” He looked around, assessed her kitchen before standing and moving to the entryway of her living room. “You have three bedrooms, two baths, right?” At her nod, he moved back to her and sat down. “Me, too, although I turned one into a home gym. My living room is bigger, but not by much, and I have two-and-a-half baths. The kitchen is almost identical. Of course, mine doesn’t have the moving carton décor like yours.”
She could tell it was a joke from the playful grin on his face. But Merry just sat there and looked at him like an idiot, not really knowing what to say. She loved a man with a sense of humor, but she was afraid if she got to know him more, she’d end up throwing herself into his arms at the first opportunity and be the sixth notch on his bedpost this month.
He’s not for you, Merry. He’s a womanizer, and according to lover number five, a cheater.
He drained the last few drops of his lemonade, and she couldn’t keep from staring at his tongue slipping out to catch an errant drop of the tart liquid. Holy smokes, the man was seriously dangerous to her peace of mind!
She looked away as soon as he set down his glass. Feeling heat flood her cheeks, she was relieved she was already flushed from working outside. How much redder could she get?
“I should get going,” he stated, rising to his feet. “I just wanted to apologize for the scene this morning. I try not to make my personal business so public.”
“It’s okay and really none of my business.”
“When you’re subjected to filthy language like that, I think it is. Thanks for the lemonade, neighbor.”
Following him to the door, she didn’t want to be caught ogling his perfect nylon-covered butt again. Looking anywhere but there, she babbled about the weather, of all things.
“Hey, is it usually this warm in September?” She suppressed a groan when she heard the question leave her mouth. What a ridiculous cliché she was.
She saw his shoulders shake. He was laughing at her. Of course, who wouldn’t? The weather... for Pete’s sake.
He politely answered as he stepped out on the porch and turned to face her. “It’s a little warmer than usual. Are you complaining?”
“No, I was just hoping to have seasons. Living in Florida, you only get three.”
“What, no winter?”
Shaking her head, she smiled at him from the doorway. “I lived in Jacksonville. We got spring, summer, and hurricane. That was enough to make me move north.”
He laughed, and Merry almost swallowed her tongue. His smile transformed his usually serious face from handsome to breathtakingly beautiful. And was that a dimple in his cheek beneath the scruff of dark beard?
“See you around?”
“Sure thing. Stop by anytime.”
Inwardly, she gave herself a reality check. Like he’d come back for more of her dirt-and-sweat-covered company and scintillating conversation.
“I just may do that. Bye, neighbor.” His smile was friendly as he nodded and walked away.
“Bye, Reese.” After he left, she leaned against the closed door and admonished herself for being such a ditz—a sexy man smiles at you and your brain becomes goo. Shaking it off, she headed for a shower. It wasn’t like she had a chance with a guy like him anyway.
***
L ATER THAT NIGHT, REESE stood in his bedroom, transfixed by the silhouette that moved gracefully around the room. The bright light behind her outlined every nuance of her killer curves and narrow waist as she undressed. But when she stood in profile... Damn!
The sight made his mouth dry and his palms sweat. She had lush thighs, a luscious ass, and full, round tits, at least a D-cup in his expert opinion.
Forcing himself to move away from the window, he reached down and adjusted himself to relieve the pressure of his hard-on, which was currently wedged painfully against his zipper. The temptation to return to the window and continue to gaze into his neighbor’s bedroom was overwhelming.
Hell, Morgan! You arrest Peeping Toms for a living, now you’ve turned into one?
Grumbling to himself about having some fucking self-control, he went down to the kitchen to grab a beer and on to his den. He switched on the Titans’ game. Maybe by the time it was over, the peep show across the street would be, too, and he could get some sleep. The damn fool woman needed to get decent curtains.
Distraction didn’t work, however, because when he climbed in bed an hour later, and tried to sleep, he kept seeing her in the tiny shorts and tank she’d worn that morning. Her soft, curvy body made his hands itch to touch her. The rest of her was just as lovely, particularly her compelling green eyes and her fair skin tinted with a becoming blush from the unseasonably warm September temperatures. Her hair, which he thought was red at first, shimmered in the bright sunshine with so many colors he couldn’t count them all. And when the tip of her tongue slipped out to glide along her plump, soft-looking lips, all he could think about was taking her in his arms and tasting them.
She reminded him of an actress in a fantasy movie he’d seen as a teen. He couldn’t recall the name of the film because the story had been subpar, but to this day, many of his fantasies featured the same elfin movie star.
Reese went to bed uncomfortably aroused, tossing and turning until he finally fell into a restless sleep. A short time later, he found himself wrenched wide-awake—panting, heart racing, body covered in a light sheen of sweat, his hand gripping and busily stroking his aching cock, on the verge of coming.
Damn! He’d been a horny teenager the last time he’d had a wet dream.
Growling in frustration, he kicked off the covers and shucked his confining boxer briefs. Hoping getting off would relax him enough that he could sleep for an hour or two, at least, he fisted his cock again and stroked himself to a quick release.
It wasn’t until later, after he’d cleaned up and returned to bed, that he flung a forearm over his face and groaned in frustration. His long-time fantasy woman who’d always knelt before him, eagerly taking him into her mouth, had transformed into a curvy redhead with stunning green eyes, wearing skimpy shorts and a tank top with smudges of dirt on her nose and cheek.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he roughly scrubbed his hands over his face and then buried his fingers in his hair. She was driving him nuts and had been for weeks. He preferred a tall, sturdier woman who could handle the rough play he enjoyed. Although Merry had plenty of curves, she was petite, sweet, with an innocent air about her, which he found as disconcerting as it was arousing.
Reese didn’t know how to proceed. Ever since things ended with Hannah, his only long-term girlfriend, his head had been messed up. He believed marriage and kids were in their future, but she couldn’t handle his old-fashioned ways and bailed on him. That was over six years ago. Since then, he had played the field, not willing to risk his heart again. One-night stands and brief liaisons were his standard now, but that was getting old. He always expected by thirty-six his life would be settled with a good job, a wife, at least two kids, and a house in suburbia. He had half of it but couldn’t find the right woman to make it complete.
He knew his needs were unusual, but from what he’d read online, not totally out there. How did he find someone with matching beliefs, values, and desires without resorting to the whole online thing?
As a cop, he knew firsthand how many nut jobs were out there. Some might even consider him one. He worried about coming off as a pervert, or worse, as abusive. There were just too many ways a situation could turn bad quickly. But he wasn’t getting anywhere with traditional dating.
When was the right time to disclose the kind of relationship he wanted? On the first date, the fifth, or the tenth? Did he just blurt out that he preferred traditional roles for men and women and believed in rules and discipline?
He’d become a cop because he wanted to protect the vulnerable and serve the public good, but also because he liked order. And he wouldn’t settle for less in his personal life.
When he married, he expected it to be forever. His bride would need to know up front and be fully on board with him being the head of the household. If she wanted a career, he was fine with that. And he didn’t want to lord over every aspect of her life. But two captains steering a ship in different directions would run it aground. And a marriage with two strong personalities constantly butting heads was destined for failure.
Reese liked to think he wasn’t a complete asshole, even though more than one woman he’d dated had insisted he was. He wasn’t too strict to bend sometimes, but rules without consequences were asking to be broken. Call if you’re going to be late, stick to the budget, and don’t take unnecessary risks, like speeding in the rain. These were all common sense rules that showed self-respect and respect for your partner. If his woman needed to be taken to task for breaking them, she could expect to find herself with her bottom bared over his knee.
He enjoyed swatting a rounded ass in the heat of passion as much as the next guy—okay, probably more so—but punishment time was serious business, not play.
How did he broach all of this with a woman he was interested in? Did he give her a questionnaire or come right out and say, “Hey, babe. I really like you and think we’re going somewhere. Would you have me brought up on charges if I spanked your bare bottom for being a bad girl?”
He snorted because he had tried the direct approach. Initially, the women were shocked then intrigued and even aroused. But when they looked at his big, paddle-sized hands, they had bowed out quickly. Hannah had tried longer than most, but her submission was more kink than a natural inclination, and when the novelty had worn off, that was the end for her.
Since then, he hadn’t really tried again. In fact, he eliminated the possibility by dating women he would never even consider settling down with. He couldn’t imagine Ashley pulling up her skirt and bending over the kitchen table for anything other than sex. Her language had been as rough as a biker, and her manners appalling. He knew without a doubt if he’d even hinted at spanking her for it, she would have punched him.
That’s why those dates never went beyond a night, maybe two. He just couldn’t picture himself settling down with someone like Ashley.
Then there was Merry. There was something about her. He liked how she got all flustered around him and, considering the number of times he’d caught her staring, he knew the attraction was mutual. It seemed like maybe... No... What was he thinking? She was a neighbor. If it turned out as badly as the last few attempts, it would blow up in his face and he would still have to live across from her. How awkward would that be?
Cursing under his breath, he flopped back onto the bed, rolling to his side with his back toward the front window. He’d noticed that Merry’s light was off across the way and she was probably sleeping blissfully, unaware of the torment she was causing him. He was hard-pressed not to stomp across the street, haul her warm soft body from her bed, and paddle her bare butt. The thought made his dick rise uncontrollably again.
He glanced at the clock and groaned. Three a.m. He was going to be a bear in the morning which, according to the men on his squad, was the rule not the exception for the last few weeks. Funny how his surly mood coincided with the arrival of the tempting little elf across the way.