The Parcel (The Special Delivery Duet Book 1)

1. Lyra

“Well, here we fucking are, Brody,” I mutter to my beloved dog as I take in our new house. The moving truck just pulled away, and now I don”t know where to begin. Officially making the move today has my situation finally feeling painfully real, and my eyes begin to sting as everything that’s happened over the past month hits me like a freight train. The empty mess of boxes I’m looking at perfectly echoes how simultaneously empty and chaotic my brain is right now. So I do the only sane thing, which is drop to my knees and throw my arms around Brody”s furry body. The tears fall freely, and he softly whines, digging his wet nose into my neck. My soon to be ex-husband Derek was magnanimous enough to let me keep him, and it was the absolute least he could do all things considered. His new girlfriend Kayla is apparently allergic, though even if he wanted to keep Brody there was no way in hell that was happening.

“It”s just you and me now, buddy,” I whisper thickly to him. His black fur is soft, warm, and comforting as I stroke his back and lean my head on his. He turns to look at me dead on with so much concern and confusion in his intelligent, golden eyes. Humans don”t deserve dogs, especially German Shepherds. His life has been upended too, all because I”m a living cliché. I’m a 36 year old woman blindsided by her soon to be ex-husband, who so wonderfully told her he wanted a divorce because he found someone new. Since that day just over a month ago, I have wracked my brain to try to figure out how I missed it. Am I so caught up in my work that I was completely oblivious to Derek being unhappy? We met 9 years ago, and were married for what I thought were 6 happy years.

We had dinner together most nights, checked in with each other throughout our workdays, had sex pretty regularly, and were getting along in my mind. Looking back, there were signs. I even questioned him about them, but he denied anything. Since I have the firm belief that a wife should trust her husband, even though none of my life experience has shown me a trustworthy man, I let it go. Stupid, stupid, naive me for trusting him instead of my instincts. Luckily, I never even took his last name because I wanted to stay known as Lyra Spinelli at work.

I’ll never forget the night Derek came home and served me the papers. He came in after his trip to the gym like always. I had just finished my last meeting for the day not much earlier, and threw a quick casserole together for dinner. It was like any other weeknight. His expression brought me up short before anything else. There was a folder in his hands.

“Lyra, we need to sit down and talk,” he said, more solemn and serious than I had ever seen him.

“I don’t think that could possibly be more of an ominous start to a discussion, so this should be fun.” I couldn’t help it. My defenses were up in a flash and the snark came flying out.

“That right there is part of what we need to talk about. The way you use snark as a defense, even with me, is starting to truly grate on me. I’m just going to come out with it. I’ve met someone, Lyra. Her name is Kayla and she goes to the same gym as me. We’ve been seeing each other for a few months.”

There is no roller coaster in the world that could have prepared me for the drop my stomach made with his admission.

“You’ve been having an affair for a few months?” My reaction was to instantly turn ice cold, to numb the stabbing pain of what he was saying. It was my biggest fear come true, I was put in the same situation as my mother. After my dad left my mom for another woman, I watched her struggle with the aftermath. I swore I would be smart and never let it happen to me.

“Yes. There is no getting around it, and I’m not sorry about meeting her. She’s warm, and gentle, and she needs me just as much as I need her.”

“So, to sum up, you’ve been seeing someone on the side because I’m not warm and cuddly enough for you? Not only that, but any time I questioned you working late, or the extra time you spent at the gym, you were fucking gaslighting me? Did you just get home from fucking her?” My voice was shaking with female rage through my constricted throat. He sighed dejectedly.

“I think we’ve both checked out of this marriage. You’re very focused on work and no, you’re not really the warm and cuddly type. We don’t fight anymore. There’s no passion in our sex. There is nothing between us anymore. I want a divorce. These are the papers to get the process started,” he said, handing me the folder. I didn’t miss how he refrained from answering my question about coming home from fucking Kayla, and the gaslighting, which told me he did.

Every insecurity, every hang up I have, washed over me like a tsunami as I looked at the divorce papers. Derek had made me feel like my heart was safe with him, that I was enough. I never felt more stupid in my life than I did that night. There was no fighting for a man who would cheat, as much as I was hurting and as much as our marriage meant to me. It’s an automatic deal breaker, even if Derek confessed and had said he wanted to try to still make it work with us. So after some heated conversation, we filed the initial paperwork a few days later.

Brody”s soft bark pulls me out of my spiraling thoughts as he turns in circles in front of me. This is his “I need to go out” dance, so I clip his leash on his collar and throw my sneakers back on. I can”t wait for the fence to come in for the backyard so that he can run around, but for now long walks around my new neighborhood will do. The fence was one of the first things I asked about when I looked at the house.

“Ready to check out all the new smells, bud?” I ask him, and he barks more forcefully this time as his tail goes a mile a minute. It”s a brisk October afternoon in New Jersey, but sunny and mild enough that people are out enjoying it. A handful of kids on bikes zoom past me in the street as I start a fast walk on the sidewalk, while the adults are gathering in a few driveways to sit around fire tables and chat. I hear what I assume is a football game from one of the driveways since the guys there are all wearing the jerseys of the closest NY team. As I pass through the neighborhood, I get the assortment of nods, smiles, and waves. What normally should be a brisk 30 minute walk is taking way too long. There are a handful of people who stop me to chat and make small talk about the weather, or ask how I’m settling in. The men listening to the game boisterously ask if I’m a sports fan, to which I give a half-hearted, “not really, sorry!” A young girl who is probably no older than 9 lights up when she sees Brody and takes a step toward me.

“I love dogs, is yours friendly?” she asks a bit shyly. I appreciate it that she asks me, good on whomever is raising her for teaching her that.

“He is, this is Brody. You can pet him, he loves the attention,” I tell her.

She beams and comes up to us to stroke his head, before dissolving into giggles as he mauls her face with kisses.

“We have a dog called Thor, maybe they can be friends!” she tells me excitedly.

“He”d love to meet Thor, I bet they”ll get into all kinds of mischief together,” I answer with a grin. It occurs to me that it”s the first time in a month I”ve genuinely smiled at a stranger.

“I’m Gabby, I live there,” she says as she points at the house three down from mine.

“Nice to meet you Gabby, I”m Lyra. Hopefully I”ll see you again soon and meet Thor.”

She laughs and runs up her driveway, tugging on the sleeve of a woman who can only be some relation with their identical wavy brown hair and hazel eyes. I keep walking, but wave at the woman when I see Gabby pointing me out to her. “I know, I was watching. You were very good and polite,” I can hear the woman say as she smiles down at her.

My phone ringing is my savior, since I don”t think I can handle any more small talk with strangers at the moment. Everyone seems very nice, but my social meter is small at the best of times, and now it’s practically non-existent. As I figured it would be, it”s my best friend Gina. My social meter doesn”t apply to her since she”s family.

“Hey babes, you off work yet?” I ask her.

We”ve been best friends since elementary school. We were both sitting alone at the 6th grade skating party, feeling like the socially awkward 11 year olds we were. She marched right over to me though when she spotted me alone, and asked me to skate with her. So we skated hand in hand around that rink, and we”ve been sisters from other misters ever since. Neither of us knows when or why we started calling each other “babes.” It is rare that we call each other anything else now though.

“Yep, in the car. Just let me run home and change, and then I”ll be over to help you get settled. How much wine should I bring? Also, I”m starving. You”re ordering us lots of pizza as payment for my services.”

“Of course, I”ll order extra olives for you,” I answer back.

She blows a raspberry through the phone like we”re still 11 and I chuckle. She hates olives. “See you in about half an hour, and hold the olives if you want my help,” she retorts before saying goodbye.

15 minutes later I’ve finished the loop around the neighborhood, and am almost back to my house. Brody stopped every 2 seconds to take in his new surroundings and smells. As I get to my driveway, I see a UPS truck pull up to the house next door. It”s empty there because I think the people who live next door were in a driveway a few doors down when I was on my walk. The driver nimbly jumps out with a package to place it on the front porch, and I can”t help but admire the way those brown pants make his ass look when he bends down. Men may be on my shit list right now, but I”m not dead. I try to go up my driveway quietly and without him noticing me checking him out. Just as he”s turning to get back in his truck, my dog lets out a whine as he checks him out just as thoroughly as I am. His head whips toward me and...fantastic, he”s caught me lingering to look at him. His gaze lands on Brody first, and though the top half of his face is slightly shadowed by his brown cap, I see a bright smile and dimples as he takes in my traitorous dog. Then I actually feel his eyes go to me and rake up my body before looking at me dead on. His smile goes wider as if he likes what he sees. Damn, I don”t want him to like what he sees. There”s no getting out of acknowledging him now, though.

“Just move in? I don”t remember Carl being this pretty,” he rumbles in an amused deep baritone. I roll my eyes so hard it hurts, even though my stomach swoops at the sound of his voice.

“You try to pick up all the ladies on your route?” I ask, cocking a hip while I cross my arms.

“Only the ones who blatantly ogle my ass,” he throws back, his grin now blinding. I can”t exactly deny it since he caught me, but no way is this conversation continuing to go down this road. So I ruefully shake my head with a self deprecating laugh.

“I’m sure I will be far from the last woman on your route to get caught checking you out, and you”ll have a lot more luck with them. Is this your regular route?” Impossibly enough, his smile gets even bigger.

“Yep. Just picked it up a couple of months ago when my coworker moved away.”

“Well, since you”re on this route, I guess I”ll be seeing you around. I get a lot of deliveries.” I sigh and stick out my hand to him.

“I’m Lyra, this is Brody.”

“Taran,” he replies and gives my hand a firm shake. Then he makes his way toward his truck. “Hang on just a second, please,” he adds as he jumps in.

I”m impatient to go inside to order a massive amount of olive pizza for Gina, and get away from more embarrassment about checking him out, but my curiosity gets the better of me. He comes back out of his truck a moment later with what is unmistakably a dog treat held up.

“Can I give this to Brody? I make it a point to become friends with all the dogs on my route.” Ok, I melt just a little at that. Before my normally extra cautious brain can catch up with my mouth, I”m saying, “Sure. Brody, sit.” He”s already sitting though, sniffing the treat on the air as it gets closer in Taran”s hand. His tail is going a mile a minute, and he”s looking at Taran like he hung the moon. Friendship already sealed, apparently. When he”s right in front of us and presenting the treat to his new bff, I sneak a glance to try to see his features better under the cap. He”s got cheekbones you could slice cheese on and the most warm, toffee colored eyes. I can just make out dark locks curling around his ears, and his shadow of stubble is not hiding his strong jaw in the least. He can”t be taller than 5”11. The part that has me drawing up short though is that he”s young. I must have roughly a decade on him. No way a man as gorgeous as him would want a soon to be officially divorced older woman. Brody is munching happily on the treat as Taran turns to me.

“He”s a gorgeous dog. Thanks for letting me give him a treat.” I reach down and scratch behind his ear.

“He always deserves treats. I don”t know what I”d do without him.” Crap, my mouth just keeps going without my say so. Why am I revealing so much about myself to this stranger? I need to get it together.

“Anyway, nice meeting you Taran. I”m sure I”ll see you around,” I say a little stiffly. He is completely unfazed by me turning somewhat cold, and gives me that wide grin again as he says, “I definitely will. Take care, Lyra. Brody, be good my friend.” I turn around and head into the house without even looking back to watch him leave, even though my heart is stupidly racing about him.

“SO,between work and the way you online shop, you”ll be seeing Taran with the great ass a whole bunch,” Gina says, polishing off her pizza slice while we sit on boxes with a wicked gleam in her eye that I know well. We are opposites in appearance. She”s tall, with nearly black straight hair, light olive skin, and the kindest brown eyes when she”s not being mischievous like now. I”m barely 5 feet tall, with slightly darker olive skin, tightly curled hair that I dye deep purple, and green eyes that tend to run cold more often than not. I wanted her to commiserate with me being mortified that I got caught checking him out when I filled her in on our encounter, but now she seems dead set on talking me into hooking up with him.

“What does it matter? It”s not like anything will happen. I have to be nearly 10 years older than him, and I have divorce baggage. He”s just a flirt. A very gorgeous one, obviously, but he would never do more than flirt with me,” I reply. Her grin goes as wicked as the glint in her eye.

“Oh come on, it”s a porn waiting to be written!” she says as if I”m the one being an idiot.

“Excuse me, Miss Lyra, I have a package for you,” she goes on in her approximation of Taran”s deep voice. “Oh, thank you, Taran. It”s so big and heavy, would you help me get it inside?” she then says in a breathy imitation of me.

I nearly choke on the bite I just took, not knowing whether to laugh or throw pizza at her face. Her word play is on point, no doubt about that. Then her eyes widen a fraction as if she just thought of something brilliant, and she throws her head back to outright cackle.

“Nononono,” she manages to get out around her laughter, “you have to do the bend and snap for him. Works every time!” She doubles over cracking herself up, and I am fighting a losing battle not to crack up with her.

“As if I could ever do it as well as Jennifer Coolidge giving her UPS guy a broken nose,” I shoot back with a giggle.

“She”s a freaking national treasure,” she agrees.

I sober for a second. “Babes, this is all in fun but I can”t imagine being with another guy for a long time. I loved Derek for 9 years and it all just came crashing down around me.”

She sobers right up too and grabs my hand. “I know. I didn”t mean anything by it. Mourn the relationship, swear off men for as long as you need.”

I squeeze her hand back and shake my head. “Anyway, you”re fed now and writing porn about me and the young UPS guy, so it”s time to get to work and get your filthy mind out of the gutter.” Like the adults we are, we then proceed to stick our tongues out at each other simultaneously and collapse into giggles.

We spend the next few hours going through boxes while also going through several bottles of pinot noir. When one of our favorite songs comes on through my phone, Gina squeals and puts down the pile of clothes she was helping to put away in my closet. “We have to do our dance!” she yells, and immediately we break into the dance we made up way back in high school that we somehow never forget. Our hips are going to the latin beat, we”re giggling like fools, and it”s a great first memory to have in this house.

Last week I had a painting crew come through to put a fresh coat on everything, while the flooring was all in good shape already. This house needs to be a sanctuary for me, so I chose soft, soothing, blues, grays and creams for pretty much everything from the furniture to the walls and linens. The previous owners were in a hurry to close to move out of state for work, thank goodness. After Derek dropped his bomb, I looked at this and two other houses in that first week, put in an offer on this one, and had the deal done within 2 1/2 weeks.

Derek didn”t kick me out, and said I could take my time to get situated, to be fair. I wanted out as soon as possible, though. In the coming weeks we”ll be finalizing our divorce agreement, and I”ll be signing the papers for him to buy me out of our house. No way could I still live with him when that was all going to be painful enough. I didn”t bring too much here, just my personal items, my clothes, toiletries, home office supplies, and lots and lots of books. Most of my furniture will be delivered in the next day or so, I”m on my air mattress until then. I”m sure my back will be thrilled. My biggest project will be organizing my books in the spare bedroom that is closest to my bedroom, which I am making my home office. Reading has always been my escape, as well as my way to center myself, and I need it now more than ever.

The internet and WiFi was all set up the other day, so at least I can get my work computer up and running once I log back in on Monday. I guess the benefit of being a workaholic is that I had plenty of PTO to use and an understanding boss, giving me a week to get my life somewhat back in order. There is one other spare bedroom for actual guests with a hall bath, and then my room with an ensuite. Downstairs there is a well appointed, decent sized kitchen with an island, white and gray marbled quartz countertops with matching grey cabinets, and stainless steel appliances. That glorious kitchen flows into a breakfast nook and TV room. On either side of the front door there is a formal living room and dining room. Nothing feels too large or overwhelming, and I don”t feel cramped either. The house I shared with Derek was basically a mansion, but this doesn”t feel like a downgrade at all. It”s a perfect house for me and I fell in love with it immediately.

Gina and I get more and more tipsy as the night goes on, and finally we decide to get ready for bed. Most of the boxes are unpacked now, I just need the furniture to come so that I can really organize everything. I did bring my dresser and favorite set of reading chairs from the house, so there”s that. While I get out the set of sheets I packed, Gina blows up the air mattress.

“Wayne is fine with you staying here tonight?” I ask her. Guilt slithers through me that she is crashing here instead of heading home to her husband and two kids.

“I knew we”d be drinking, I told him I”d be crashing. He”s fine with the kids, and his parents went by to have dinner with them and help with bedtime. I told you I FaceTimed with them all while you took Brody out earlier. It”s all good.” I swear my grumpy, cold ass doesn”t deserve a best friend like her.

“Thank you for being here for me, babes. I”ll order us bagels in the morning from our favorite place. You need much more payment than pizza.” I make up the air mattress, and after we quickly wash up and get into PJs, we flop onto it like we have on countless sleepovers. She boops my nose as she turns onto her side.

“If we need a bigger house down the road, you will definitely be making it up to me. Also, the kids want some time with Auntie Lyra soon. You”re giving me and Wayne a date night.”

“Deal,” I say on a yawn before we both instantly pass out.