Dirty Neighbor (The Dirty Suburbs) (19 page)

Chapter 40

“Y’see – this is why I’ve resorted to online dating,” Faith groans and tips her head in the direction of the dance floor as she slips onto the velvet bench next to her sister. There’s a purple-haired wannabe biker chick grinding shamelessly all over the protruding stomach of a toupee-wearing clod who is obviously having the time of his life.

“Be careful, hun,” Isla says cautiously. “There’s some freaks out there on the internet.”

Faith laughs mirthlessly. “Are you serious right now? There’s some freaks
in here
.” She nods towards the dance floor again to make her point.

“Touché” Isla giggles over the rim of her wine glass.

But Faith isn’t done ranting. Not just yet. “I mean, are there
any
cute guys in this town?” She takes a greedy sip of her martini before setting the drink down on the tempered glass tabletop.

I peer around the small lounge, the colorful strobe lights illuminating the faces of the dozens of patrons jiving on the dance floor. Surprisingly, the place is relatively full. It must be because of the ladies’ night two-for-one drinks special. More than three-quarters of the customers are female and the few men here are coming on way too strong. The place reeks of desperation.

Thank god I have Keeland and his sexy ass to go home to
, I grin slyly to myself.

Gracie shrugs, looking at Faith. “Don’t ask me. I’m only here to get away from my husband.” I hear the sadness in her tone.

I flinch at her words. “Are you two still fighting?”

There’s absolute melancholy in her eyes when she nods. “At the rate we’re going, I don’t think our marriage will make it till Christmas.”

“Ah – don’t say that,” Isla says, reaching out for Gracie’s hand. “You’re breaking my heart. Divorce is the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced and I wouldn’t wish it on anybody.”

Gracie sighs. “It’s not what I want. But I feel like we’re running out of options.”

“Did you try absolutely everything?” I ask, leaning across the table to hold her hand.

My sister-in-law nods. “Counseling didn’t work. Spending more time together didn’t work. Spending more time apart didn’t work...”

“There’s always couples’ tantra. I’m running another retreat soon,” Isla offers, trying to be helpful.

“I guess we could give that a try,” Gracie says skeptically, lifting her shoulders before dropping them hopelessly. “I’m starting to wonder if, maybe Daniel just doesn’t love me anymore.”

“That’s ridiculous,” I say quickly. “My brother is crazy about you.”

“He used to be…” she says quietly.

“Aww, Gracie,” Faith sighs sympathetically. She wraps her arms around her sister’s neck.

“Okay, okay. Stop,” Gracie says with a weak laugh as she brushes a tear out of her eye. “We didn’t come here tonight to have a pity party for me.” She nudges Faith out of the booth. “Come on. All of you are single and need to be hooked up tonight. I’ll play matchmaker. Let’s hit the dance floor.”

My fingers brush against my beautiful new earrings and I swallow back guilt at the fact that my friends still don’t know that I’m not single at all. I belong to Keeland Masters. I’m his girl. He’s my guy. And no one in a 5000-mile radius can make me feel half of the things he does. It took me by surprise but my deep disdain for him has morphed into something that’s beginning to feel a bit like…
love
.

That worries me. And it thrills me at the same time.

I push my concerns aside and bring my attention to the club and the pulsing energy buzzing around me. A David Guetta tune blasts through the room and we party away, dancing and laughing and drinking.

After finding a handsome silver fox for Isla to dance with and hooking Faith up with a baby-faced cutie who is surely still in college, Gracie coaxes a dimple-cheeked guy into buying me a drink. I turn him down with a flattered smile because, in the back of my mind, I’m secretly counting down the minutes till I’m in Keeland’s arms.

But Mr. Dimples is rather persistent and he gets close, breathing heavy in my ear and whispering things that would make even a streetwalker uncomfortable. I look around for Gracie but she’s busy on the dance floor with some women I recognize from around town. Faith and her new friend from the community college look like they’re two winks away from trying to make a stealth exit. Meanwhile, Isla seems to be engaged in a deep-existential conversation with the silver fox.

I try to be polite as I push Mr. Dimples away. But unfortunately for him, he doesn’t take a hint. He leans in and slides his hand across my ass before he tries to kiss me. I manage to duck away just in time.

The next thing I know, Mr. Dimples goes flying backwards, landing hard on his tailbone as the crowd parts around him and Keeland’s pale, angry eyes flash under the strobe lights.

Chapter 41

“Hey man, is there a problem over here?” The music has come to an abrupt stop and I hear the security guard’s voice carry over my shoulder.

The punk lying on the floor stumbles to his feet. “I was getting to know this beautiful lady over here –” he gestures to Sammie, “—and this asshole rudely interrupted us.”

I growl, ready to pounce on him. The nerve of that idiot to put his hands on my woman. “She clearly wasn’t trying to get to know you.” I mutter through gritted teeth. “You seem to have forgotten that when a lady says ‘no’, she means ‘no’. But I will
gladly
re-educate you with my fists.”

He opens his mouth and quickly snaps it shut. He watches me cautiously. He knows – one wrong move and I’ll stomp him into yesterday.

“You’re gonna have to get out of here, pal,” the chubby rent-a-cop barks. I give him a sidelong glance. I could take him. Easy. He’s a good six inches shorter than me and exactly zero percent of the weight on him is muscle. But I didn’t come here to start trouble tonight and I don’t want the cops getting involved unless absolutely necessary.

I do have a criminal record after all.

Although, if any further need to protect Sammie should arise, the legal consequences would be the last thing on my mind.

I throw up my hands in a gesture of appeasement and take a step back. “I’m out of here,” I say. Then, I grab Sammie by the wrist and shove my way through the crowd. She jerks out of my grasp, grumbling under her breath and pulling down the hem of her ridiculously short, glittery-ass dress, as we stomp out the front door. I hear several pairs of high heels clicking on the pavement behind us as we make our way over to the parking lot.

“Thanks for that, asshole,” Sammie calls after me as she struggles to keep up in her four-inch stilettos. When I turn around, she’s hugging her arms over her chest to keep out the cold and shooting daggers at me with her eyes.

“You’re not seriously mad at me right now. Not after I just rescued you from that predator.”

She narrows her eyes insolently. “I could have handled that drunk loser on my own. Without your help.”

“So, what? I was just supposed to sit there and watch him paw all over the woman I love?”

My declaration draws a sharp gasp from Sammie’s stunned girlfriends who are trailing clumsily behind us.

Sammie’s cheeks pinken up instantly. “Would you keep your voice down?” she whispers through gritted teeth, tilting her head suggestively towards her group of friends. “And what are you doing here anyway?”

The golden question.

Did she really expect me to just laze around on the couch watching sports highlights while she was out at a club doing god-knows-what with that fine ass of hers?

Well actually, I guess that’s not such an unreasonable expectation. I know that Sammie’s a good woman. It’s just that, after Rhys…I guess I just had to be sure. I had to see her in action with my own eyes.

And she made me proud tonight. I saw the way she pushed that loser away when he tried to hit on her. There hadn’t been an ounce of hesitation in her eyes. But still, I’d hate to think of what he would have done next if I hadn’t shown up.

“You should be glad that I was here. To look out for you. A real man protects his woman.”

“Keep. Your. Voice. Down.” she grunts in a low tone.

I stop abruptly and glance towards Isla, Faith and Grace. They wear wide-eyed expressions on their faces as they try to figure out what the hell is going on between Sammie and me. I bring my gaze back to her and I’m damn pissed. “I am
so
done with this!” I say, vibrating with rage.

"Shit just got real," Faith whispers, her fingers covering her lips.

Sammie’s breathing hitches and her nostrils flare angrily. “You’re breaking u –“

“Oh, shut up…” I groan right before my lips slide over hers. I hold her cold cheeks between my palms, kissing her hard and intently. I tip her head back to get the perfect angle and stuff my tongue down her throat just so the message is loud and clear; we’re together now and I’m tired of hiding. I love this woman and I want the whole world to know.

“There,” I say looking from Sammie to her friends and back again. “Problem solved.” I shrug quickly out of my parka and drape it over her shoulders as she stands there trembling from the cold or from the kiss or from a combination of both.

I walk off ahead of her, leaving her with her jaw hanging wide. I swing open the passenger’s side door of my truck and wait for her to get in. She’s pouting, arms folded across her chest and her eyes are blazing as she climbs into her seat. Her glare tells me clearly that I’m in trouble tonight. I feel a strange sense of anticipation tickling the pit of my stomach. I pinch back the smile battling against my lips.

“Good night, ladies,” I say graciously to Sammie’s shocked friends with a gallant bow before I slip behind the steering wheel and peel out of the parking lot.

Chapter 42

Bright and early the next morning, I’m at Walmart in the teen girl’s section. I step over to the mirror and hold up a lacy, foam green taffeta dress in front of me.

“Nah,” I mumble to myself as I set it back on the rack and snatch up a flouncy lavender gown instead. I swing left to right a few times to check the dress’s bounce factor.

Very, very important that this dress have sufficient bounce
.

“Much better,” I mumble with a satisfied grin as I toss it into my shopping cart along with some thick, flesh-toned pantyhose and a pair of clunky Mary-Janes.

A mean-looking woman in her mid- to late-40s gives me a sideways glance as she hovers protectively over her teenaged daughter. “This isn’t for me,” I say to her with way too much defensiveness in my tone. She cocks a judgmental eyebrow at me. “It’s for my girlfriend.” I don’t know why I feel the need to explain, but I do.

Her daughter stops rifling through the racks and turns to me. “Your girlfriend’s going to prom?” the teen asks, her lips scrunching condemnatorily. “Aren’t you like…
old
?”

Her mother doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Come on, Stacy.” She braces her daughter by the shoulders and leads her towards the other side of the busy store.

Great — now this woman and her daughter think that I’m a cradle-robbing sicko.

But nothing can repress the smile I’m wearing. Not the judgmental helicopter mom and her bratty kid who have chalked me up as a maybe-cross-dresser, maybe-pervert. Not the long Walmart lines that seem to go on forever. Not even the six missed calls and two threatening text messages I received from Daniel this morning, promising to slice my balls off with a rusty hand saw for messing with his sister.

Nothing
can get me down.

Because tonight is all about Sammie.

I kind of ruined girls’ night last night. So, I want to do something extra special to make it up to her. I’m going to give her an over-the-top, memorable evening she’ll never forget.

Tonight is prom night.

It’s going to be so much better than that lame high school dance we missed eight years ago. It’s going to be cheesy and clichéd and everything that prom is supposed to be.

It’s going to be perfect.

I downloaded all the Katy Perry songs she used to like back when she was 17. I’ve decorated my living room with colorful balloons and streamers. I even made fruit punch and mini egg sandwiches. I bought myself a dorky tuxedo and ordered a corsage and a boutonniere from the florist in town.

I’ll give her prom. Just to see her smile. Just to show her that I’m seriously sorry about making a scene last night and I’m serious about making up for lost time and I’m serious about making her happy.

The way she responded to that jerk at the club last night showed me clearly that I can trust her. And now, I want her to trust me too. I want her to believe me when I tell her that I love her.

But there’s one major pickle that I have to address. There’s a huge chunk of my past that I never filled in for her. I’ve never told her about my time in jail.

Whenever she’s asked about where I was and what I was up to over the last few years, I’ve given her vague, noncommittal answers. And she’s accepted that, probably because she hasn’t been allowing herself to fully commit to this relationship. But she deserves to know because this thing between us is getting more and more serious. And besides, now that Daniel knows that Sammie and I are together, there’s no way that he’ll continue to protect my secret.

Sisters over bros. I totally understand.

Thank god he’s in Baltimore on a business trip for a few days. That buys me some time.

I’ll tell her everything tomorrow. I’m going to make her breakfast, sit her down and tell her, and hope that she can accept me. I’m going to take a chance and let the chips fall where they may.

And y’know what? I’m nervous but I have a good feeling about it. Our attraction to each other has endured eight years and thousands of miles of distance. I have to believe that we’ll be able to work things out once I confess what I’ve been keeping from her.

I’m grinning like an idiot when I step out of Walmart and into the mid-morning sun with my purchases in hand. Things are looking up for Sammie and me.

Finally, things are looking up and I’m fucking excited, man.