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His deep voice penetrated my core.
“Um. Yes of course. I know you and I discussed the timer on various occasions. And I understand you offered to install it.”
“But you don’t feel comfortable allowing me into your home,” he huffed, placing his sunglasses on top of his head, resting in his short dark hair.
“Ms. Kerns, pay someone to install the timer. Mrs. Bell continues to ask that I take care of your sprinkler system.” He walked toward his house next door.
“Sorry, Mr. Wilder. Thanks again,” I yelled out.
He tossed his hand in the air, never looking back and strolled into his house
Nadia, you invite the drop dead, gorgeous neighbor into your home for dinner.It would’ve been the perfect way to get laid. He’s single, you’re single.
I glanced across the street, smiled, and waved at my little gray-haired widowed neighbor Mrs. Bell.
Mr. Wilder and I were the youngest residents living in the community. This was a retirement neighborhood. My social life came to a screeching halt after my best friend passed away. There wouldn’t be any wild parties. This was the best neighborhood for a person like me who wanted to walk the straight and narrow.
Why did super hunk choose to live in a retirement community? My eyebrow rose at the thought.
I drove my truck into the garage then walked into the house. The view of the sun setting from my patio was beautiful. That was where I sat this time of year. I threw my purse and brief case on the brown marble kitchen countertop.
Hm, I wondered if I had any of my mom’s meals in the fridge. Yes, my mother prepared my meals every other week. I couldn’t cook a lick. Staring into the fridge, I smiled. “One meal remaining.” My parents were headed on another vacation for two weeks. Back to TV dinners.
When my mother didn’t cook my meals, I ate salads, breakfast burritos or barely anything at all. My mother tried to teach me how to cook when I was a teenager, but I wasn’t good at setting the timers… hence the problem with the water sprinkler. Numbers were different. They called my name. I enjoyed number crunching.
The beef stew spun at turtle speed in the microwave. While my dinner cooked, I strolled up the wooden white staircase into the master bedroom. I kicked off my black stilettos in the master walk-in closet and discarded my clothes into the dry cleaner bag. I snatched my pink silk robe off the hanger and slipped it over my honey brown skin. My bare feet padded across the white slate tile bathroom floor. I turned the tubs hot and cold knobs, adjusting the water temperature. A hot bath was comforting in the winter or summer. After what I uncovered today, the bath would relax me and semi put my mind at ease. I ran downstairs and removed my stew from the microwave. The bay leaves, smoked paprika, ginger, and garlic escaped up my nose. This was one of my favorite dishes. I grabbed a spoon from the drawer. I scooped a hefty helping of the hot stew into my mouth. Strolling through the living room, I glimpsed out of the window. My neighbors big black Tundra with monster wheels sat in his driveway. What was he like?
Mrs. Bell called Mr. Wilder by his first name, Aiden. She said he’s reserved. Liked to keep to himself. He owned a children’s dental practice. Mr. Wilder didn’t exactly send off the warm and fuzzy bells. He was always so serious. I’m sure that smile today was because he was trying to be polite. He probably hated I was his neighbor. On my weekend morning runs, I noticed his cute children’s dentistry. There was never an excuse to drop in, so I kept moving.
