Chapter 2
2
M alcolm
She’s at it again.
For the past day and a half, I’ve been watching her. Not because I want to, well, not at first anyway.
My home office has a large window facing the backyard of the house next door. Sometimes, I look into my neighbor’s property. Not snoop, but I hear a sound, and my gaze wanders from my screen and out the window.
Now, the reason is quite different. It’s her. I see the lithe body of a twenty-something redhead. I’ve met her before.
Emma something. She’s fun and bubbly and all that shit.
But I’m careful. I dated Erin for a year and thought we were a strong couple. We both have successful careers, are in our forties, and have wealthy bank accounts. I brought up the subject of marriage, and she went cold. She wasn’t interested in marriage. She enjoyed our partnership and wanted to continue that way—with each of us living in our own homes without changes.
That destroyed me. I was heartbroken because I loved her, but I also knew I couldn’t continue with that relationship without it evolving and growing for the rest of my life. Unlike my father, who married many times, I want to do it once. Make it count. And I thought Erin was my endgame.
So, I told my friends some lame ass excuse, pretended it wasn’t a big deal, and moved on.
I hear Emma dive into the pool, making a big splash. The dog, a labradoodle named Moonshine, barks excitedly. I don’t know where the old man is, but I assume he’s in his guest house to keep from having a heart attack—which I’m sure would happen due to Emma’s skimpy bikini.
She wears a different one today. Seems like in a day and a half, every time she goes to the pool, her swimwear shrinks.
She started with a one-piece suit yesterday. This morning, she wore a cherry red two-piece. And now, I see a little white and yellow polka dot number barely concealing her body. Desire stirs in my groin in the most inconvenient way possible.
If she looks my way, she’ll see me.
I shuffle in the chair and pretend to be working. But only a few moments later, my gaze strays to that pool again. Our properties are spacious, with acres spread out in between, located in an established affluent neighborhood outside Dallas. But my home office has a window facing the pool. Never mind the several trees between us, the view is clear.
Emma swims a few laps, emerges, and walks to the chaise lounge chair.
She stretches her limbs like an overindulged kitty cat. One who likes to scratch.
That’s my cue. I should lower the blinds, leave the room, and do something else. It’s not like I don’t have shit to do. I didn’t get to where I am by being lazy. Since I graduated with my business degree, I’ve worked relentlessly to make my own money despite my parents’ good financial standing. I wanted to be independent and wealthy since by the time I graduated, my father was already on his third marriage. It’s a miracle he kept any of his money considering he has four divorces under his belt as of today.
But I don’t move. Can’t move. I watch in awe as she removes the top of her swimsuit, sets it aside, and lies there.
Air is sucked from my lungs.
She’s topless. What the fuck?
Moisture evaporates from my throat. A smile pulls at her lips, but my gaze quickly travels down her neck to her bare chest. She has full tits with rosy nipples. Her skin is as smooth as velvet. I’ve never touched her, but I know it, feel it.
When I look up at her again, her gaze collides with mine. Her smile broadens, and she doesn’t break the stare.
I swallow the lump of sexual frustration in my throat.
Damn. She’s not playing around.
I grab my cell and look for her name. Emma Sutton. Hazel gave it to me in case there was any type of emergency. Well, I consider her parading her epic tits a big emergency—and my cock agrees.
I shoot her a text. You’re topless.
I watch her read it and chuckle. I got hot.
So am I. I can see that. I just don’t want the rest of the world to see it, too.
Why? Feeling possessive?
Security cameras. We use the same company. You’re making some ppl happy today. I lie. Only Archer would have access to the footage, and while I doubt he’d worry about it while away, the idea of anyone seeing her nakedness bothers me more than it should.
She pulls a towel over her chest, fumbling, and soon her top is magically on again. Thanks for the heads up.
Anytime.
I sigh. Problem averted.