The Good Neighbor - Bettes Kimberley A. (книги читать бесплатно без регистрации TXT) 📗

I walked past Bernie’s house slowly. There was a flicker through the window, which was unmistakable. He was watching television. It was odd for Bernie to be home and not at the bar.

I saw his shadow fall across the curtains. He was in there, all right. Maybe he was sick. It would serve him right for scaring the hell out of Carla like that.

I realized my fists were clenched as I thought of him. I forced them to relax, and I kept walking, putting Bernie as far out of my mind as I could. I didn’t want to think about him now. All I wanted to think about was Carla.

Oscar was lying on her porch, as if he belonged to her. He was probably happier at her house than any other on the street. She had kids. What dog didn’t like kids? I patted his head and scratched behind his ears, offering him a few ‘good boys’.

I rang the bell and the door was immediately jerked open. It was almost as if ringing the bell opened the door.

Carla was excited to see me, I could tell. It was in her eyes, in her smile, and in the way she looked at me. The look on her face matched how I felt. It wasn’t a big surprise when she bounced forward and threw her arms up around my neck. Without hesitation, I put my arms around her waist and hugged her tightly. It felt right, like that’s what we were supposed to do.

It had been so long since I’d hugged anyone. I’d hugged Holly. Once she was gone, Jill had hugged me a few times, and even Andy had given me one or two hugs. But those were sympathy hugs, and they didn’t count.

Though it only lasted a few seconds, the way Carla hugged me told me several things. First, it let me know she wanted the hug, because she initiated it. Then, it told me she felt safe enough and comfortable enough with me to be this close. Next, it allowed me to see that she was as eager for me to be here as I was. I didn’t have to feel like I was pushing myself on her by coming over any more. I knew now that she wanted me here. No more worrying that I was acting like Bernie. She wanted me.

I loved the way it felt to have her in my arms, pulled against me where I could protect her and keep her safe. I closed my eyes, memorizing the softness of her skin and the smell of her hair.

She closed the door behind me and led me into the dining room. She apologized for the kids having already eaten. They had been too hungry to wait for me, but she’d waited. We sat at the table and ate, mostly in silence. She kept smiling at me and that more than made up for the lack of conversation. It did puzzle me that she wasn’t saying much, but when I looked at her, I saw she was deep in thought. I matched her silence, not wanting to disturb her.

When we were finished with the pork chops and had the dishwasher loaded, she took my hand in hers and led me into the living room where Ethan and Shelby were sitting on the floor playing a board game. We sat on the couch, watching.

It would be a lie to say I didn’t like the way her hand felt, still nestled in mine, or the way her skirt pulled up just enough to show more of her thigh, or better yet, the way the heat of her thigh felt against mine. Even through my jeans, her warmth was unavoidable. I couldn’t ignore it. But I had to try. The kids were only a few feet from us.

After an hour or so, the kids reminded Carla of her promise to let them watch a movie. She made them each a bowl of popcorn and a pallet on the floor. She and I remained on the couch. The movie started and the kids’ attention turned completely to the screen.

Carla reclaimed her place beside me on the couch. I could feel her eyes on me throughout most of the animated film, but I didn’t mind. The kids fell asleep during the movie, but we left them where they were until it was over. Then, I carried them upstairs, one at a time. Carla tucked them in and kissed them goodnight. I waited in the doorway, watching her be a mother.

When she finished, we went down to the kitchen where she poured us each a glass of wine. I could feel her eyes following my every move. We drank the first glass of wine in the kitchen, and the second in the living room, sitting on the couch.

“It’s getting pretty late. I better let you get to bed,” I said, standing and walking to the door.

She followed me. “Owen, you don’t have to go.”

I turned to her, my hand on the door knob. I was going to tell her that she needed her rest and I didn’t want to keep her up and I didn’t want to overstay my welcome and she’d been more than nice enough...but I didn’t say anything. Before I had a chance to speak, she planted her lips firmly against mine. She held my face in place with a hand on each cheek, as if she was afraid I’d pull away.

Surprising me even further was the way she was kissing me. It wasn’t just a peck. She parted her lips and filled my mouth with her tongue. Although I was taken aback by her boldness, I didn’t hesitate to respond appropriately. I kissed her just as passionately, if not more so, than she kissed me.

We stood there for a while, kissing each other intensely. I didn’t want to stop. Ever. I could tell she felt the same way. It was more than the way she was kissing me. It was the fact that she’d wanted to kiss me so badly, she’d put herself out there and made the first move. It was the way she wound her fists in my hair and pulled slightly, just enough to drive me wild. It was also the way she pressed herself to me tighter, as if no matter how close we were together, it wasn’t close enough.

I loved the way she felt against me, her breasts firm against my chest. The smell of her was more than intoxicating. These things combined put me over the edge. There was no hiding my excitement from her now. I knew she felt it. In fact, I knew the exact moment she felt it. She stopped kissing me and smiled.

Then, she took my hand in hers and led me upstairs to her bedroom.

21 Bernie

I couldn’t pace fast enough to work off the anger that coursed through my veins. I needed to do something more than walk the floor. I looked around, frantic for something, anything to release this anger. I picked up the end table that sat beside the couch and hurled it across the room, beer bottles and all. It slammed against the wall, breaking the top and knocking off a leg. Who cared?

Who did that son of a bitch think he was? What could he possibly be doing over there? Again! That smug bastard was trying to edge me out. Well I wasn’t going to let that happen. I had more game than he did. I’m Bernie Bear, for crying out loud! Damn him to hell.

I ran to the refrigerator and threw open the door, slamming it against the table. I jerked a bottle of cold beer from inside and tore off the cap. I chugged the beer, trying to push down my anger. It didn’t work. I threw the empty bottle across the room, smashing it into a million pieces.

I looked out the window over the sink, scanning her windows for signs of them. Of course, I saw nothing. Her blinds were shut tight, as always. But I knew what was going on. Or at least what that damn Owen wanted to be going on. He hadn’t been with anyone since that crap with his ol’ lady, and now, of all the people in town, he chooses my broad. The broad next door to me. The same broad that had been sending me signals, wanting me to come over and give her what I had.

Didn’t he know that she wanted me? She’d been sending me signals, staring over here from time to time like she wanted me to come over. She was asking me for it. Hell, she was begging me to give it to her, and he was over there in the way.

Unless...what if she’d been sending him signals too? What if she was like the others? All those women at all those bars over the years that had come on to me, wanting and needing me, they said. I go to the john and come back, and they’re all over some other guy. All bitches. Bitches in heat, is what they were. They’d take the first dick that came along and act like they liked it, and then move on to the next guy before the gunk dried in their panties.