Girl Next Door: The Complete Series Read online

  Anya linked her arm with Patrick’s. “Please excuse us. I need to steal Rick away for a minute. There’s someone he needs to talk to.”

  I didn’t trust my voice, so I nodded and faked another smile. Then, I watched them walk away, watched the way his arm slid around her waist and her body fit perfectly against him from shoulder to hip. She was taller than me, almost as tall as Patrick in her heels, exactly the right height. I turned away and took a slug of my wine. Another illusion destroyed. I was beginning to think Natalie had snagged the only decent man left in Dallas. Apparently the two brothers couldn’t be more different. Aidan was a one-woman man, and head over heels in love with my bestie. It seemed his younger brother was not above leering at women, flirting with them, and then happily strolling off with his fiancée, who seemed to have no clue he was trolling for ass.

  Amidst my ire with Patrick, I was angry with myself as well. I knew better than to believe that I would meet a wonderful man and actually click with him, and maybe even fall in love. Those hopes and dreams had died a painful death many years ago. Now I was just happy with short-term relationships with guys that made me laugh and weren’t ready to settle down. Or at least not ready to settle down with me. I was self-aware enough to realize that I always chose men who were completely wrong for me so I could end things easily after a few months. Right now I was happy with my life and the way I lived it.

  This was why I was angry with myself. For just a moment, I’d forgotten and let Patrick Hart’s charming façade blind me to reality. I finished my wine, poured myself more, and decided that men sucked. Well, sucked more than I’d already thought. I sighed and prepared for a long evening.

  Six months later…

  I woke up in an unfamiliar room. Bright morning light filtered through sheer curtains and blinds, illuminating a cozy bedroom decorated in pale blue and white. I realized I was in Nat’s guest room and I was housesitting for her and Aidan for the next two weeks while they were on their honeymoon. This was great for me since my landlord had been required to fumigate several of his townhomes. Apparently, a tenant had reported him to authorities when he had done nothing about an infestation of mutant cockroaches. He’d been slapped with a hefty fine and given a choice to fumigate by a certain date or get in even bigger trouble.

  I stretched lazily on the soft mattress and smooth cotton sheets. I loved staying here, because Nat’s sheets were so much nicer than mine. Also, she had a fantastic kitchen and her house was almost twice the size of my condo. I asked myself why I hadn’t bought my own home yet, then remembered Nat had been smart and paid off her student loans and she could afford a nice home like this. Also, I’d invested most of my money in my baby, my sweet, black, tricked-out Camaro convertible. I wasn’t murdered, um, married, nor did I plan on it. I was content to stay in my little condo and drive around my very sexy car. I made enough and saved enough to do the things I enjoyed, like shopping and vacations to sunny beaches teeming with sexy guys. If a rainy day came, I’d be well covered.

  A noise floated up the stairs into the open bedroom door and I froze. What the hell? I hoped Nat’s crazy ex, Jack, hadn’t decided to pay her another visit. I doubted they’d let him out of prison yet, but you never knew. About a year ago, Nat and Jack had broken up and Jack had gone off the deep end. Considering Nat had dumped Jack because she caught him coming onto me (in her kitchen, no less), I couldn’t understand why he flipped out so badly. He had started calling her all the time, came by her home and office, and followed her. Finally, after about four weeks of this, the asshat had the audacity to break into her house and try to take her hostage.

  The noise coming from the downstairs area returned. If it was Jack down there, I wouldn’t be as nice as Nat had been when she shot him in the foot and the ass. I’d shoot off his balls. The whole situation was another stark reminder to me of why men sucked and why I ended things before they got too heavy. There was a chance the guy would turn out to be psychotic. What other reason would I need?

  Quietly, I threw the covers back and snuck into Nat’s bedroom, to her nightstand. Her Browning 9mm wasn’t in its usual spot in the drawer. Crap, I didn’t have time to search for it. Nat only had one phone in the house, which was in the kitchen. She rarely used it, preferring to use her cell. I thought about my cell phone, but realized I’d left it downstairs on the coffee table the night before. No way to call for help. When Nat got back, I was going to smack her around and then insist she get a few more handsets for her landline.

  I snuck back into the guest room and silently opened the closet door. I vaguely remembered seeing a wooden ball bat in the corner of the closet the night before. Sure enough, the bat was leaning against the wall, along with Aidan’s glove. My hand closed around the smooth handle.

  I hefted the bat over my shoulder and snuck down the stairs. I heard rustling from the kitchen. What kind of burglar started with the kitchen? Then I remembered all the wedding gifts that were piled on the dining table in the breakfast nook. Shit, that’s probably what the thief was after. I was three steps from the bottom when the stairs creaked. I stilled, head cocked, listening. The rustling stopped. Double shit. They’d heard me. I jumped when a man’s voice rang out.

  “Cat, I can’t find the freakin’ coffee. Where do they keep it?”

  Effing Patrick Hart was in the kitchen, looking for coffee. My grip on the bat tightened and I enjoyed a short, graphic fantasy of bashing his shins, then his head and maybe his nuts, with the bat. Then I sighed, took the last of the steps, and rounded the corner between the hall and the kitchen. Patrick Hart’s very nice tush was facing me as he bent to rummage through the refrigerator. Again, I had a wonderful image of smacking him with the bat. To prevent an accidental maiming, or rather an on-purpose maiming, I placed the bat in one of the dining room chairs.

  “Patrick, what are you doing here at,” I glanced at the clock on the wall, “eight a.m. on a Sunday? Especially considering your brother and brand new sister-in-law are two thousand miles away in the Bahamas after partying for most of last night at their wedding reception.”

  He straightened and turned to face me, flashing a smile. “I decided to raid their fridge. I know how food tends to spoil when you’re gone for a while. I’d hate for them to come back to that.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Two issues with that, Patrick. First, I’m housesitting, so I will be eating the food and purchasing some to replace it before they come back. This also means there will not be any spoiled food waiting for Nat and Aidan when they come home. Second, you drove all the way across town just to make coffee and a bagel. You spent more in gas to come here than if you bought breakfast near home.”

  Patrick smirked at me. “I walked here.”

  I just stared at him. I knew he was messing with me.

  His smirk became a grin. “I guess Nat didn’t tell you that I moved into Aidan’s house. I’m renting it from him while I look for a place to live and to keep him from having to pay two mortgages.”

  No, the sneaky bitch hadn’t told me Patrick had moved in next door. I knew why, too. Since Patrick and Anya had broken up for good a few months before, Nat had been doing her best to throw me together with her brother-in-law. I knew she meant well, but I couldn’t get her to understand that I would never be interested in Patrick Hart, regardless of how gorgeous and charming he was. I decided to take my time to develop a suitable punishment for Nat, and focused on the problem at hand. I was standing in the kitchen, wearing thin cherry-print pajama pants, and a camisole, facing down a man who was charming and good-looking and would not hesitate to use those two tools to give him the advantage.

  Since our meeting at the engagement party, Patrick and I had been sparring every time we saw one another. If I wasn’t so damned determined to hate him, I might have admitted it was kinda hot to have all that tension flying around. But, I tried to keep my head in the game and keep him out of my head at the same time. Unfortunately, he was much better at the game than I was. If I was going to walk away with
points on the board this morning, I needed to ignore my vulnerabilities and keep focused. I refused to think about the fact that I was dressed in very thin clothing, make-up free, and very likely sporting a horrendous case of bed head. I stalked the rest of the way into the kitchen and went to the canisters next to the coffeemaker. I removed a paper filter from one of the canisters, popped it into the basket. Next, I grabbed another canister and used the scoop inside to measure out the ground coffee. Brushing by Patrick, I took the carafe and filled it with filtered water from the fridge, poured it into the coffeemaker, replaced the carafe and flipped the switch. I did all of this without speaking. When I was done, I turned to Patrick.

  “There. Enjoy your coffee and bagel. I’m going to go upstairs and clean up. When I get back down, I expect you to be gone.”

  With that, I left the kitchen and bounded up the stairs. When I came down an hour later, I found a toasted bagel on a plate, still warm, and a cup of coffee sitting next to it. He’d waited until he knew I would be heading down, then the sneaky bastard had made me breakfast. It seemed that every time I tried to hold on to my dislike of Patrick, he revealed parts of himself that were immensely likeable.

  I spent the rest of the morning relaxing and trying to forget Patrick’s visit. I unpacked my bags and actually used the dresser and closet in Nat’s guestroom. Natalie and Aidan would be on their honeymoon for the next two weeks, and I did not want to be living out of suitcase for that amount of time. I had been surprised and pleased for my bestie when she told me that Aidan had booked a first-class trip for fourteen whole days. Aidan wasn’t much of a romantic, but he treated my girl like a queen and he had made sure their wedding and honeymoon were everything she could dream of.

  After I unpacked, I spent a restless half-hour trying to find something on the television. I decided to enjoy the warm sunny weather, and took my e-reader onto Nat’s back deck. I stretched out on a chaise and promptly fell asleep.

  I was having a really nice dream. Gentle fingers were touching my face, sliding down my cheek and jaw to my neck. I smiled and stretched, making a low noise in my throat. The fingers drifted into my hair, running through it.

  “Cat, you’re going to get sunburned.”

  The man’s voice was familiar, but, hovering between sleep and wakefulness, I couldn’t place it. I turned on my side, tucking my hands beneath my cheek, and grunted at him. He needed to be quiet and just keep playing with my hair. It felt lovely.

  “Cat.” There was that voice again.

  Annoyed, I refused to open my eyes. “Go away.”

  The man chuckled. “You’re a redhead, Cat. I have a feeling you’re gonna regret it if I do what you say.”

  I groaned and opened my eyes a little. Apparently, I’d been asleep for a while, because the sun was high in the sky and almost blinding. The man sitting on the chaise next to me blocked the sunlight from shining directly into my eyes, but it was still pretty bright out. I woke completely and realized that the fingers smoothing through my hair belonged to Patrick Hart. In a blink I was wide awake and sitting straight up.

  Patrick smirked but kept playing with my hair. I pulled back, leaning against the seat, and Patrick let my hair slide through his fingers until it fell back to my shoulder.

  I cleared my throat. “What are you doing here, Patrick?”

  His face grew serious and he handed me the glass of water I’d brought out with me. “I wanted to apologize for this morning and see if I could talk you into feeding me,” he paused when I glared at him, “or at least going out for a quick lunch. The kitchen at my house is almost completely empty. I think all I have is a couple of slices of bread and a banana. When you didn’t answer the door, I let myself in and saw you out here. You do realize it’s almost twelve-thirty and you’re lying in the sun, right?”

  I sipped the water and scowled at him. “I appreciate the concern, smartass.”

  He chuckled. “Your face is already a little pink, would you prefer I let you lie out here and burn to a crisp?” His index finger tapped the tip of my nose.

  I rolled my eyes. “Okay, so thanks for waking me up. I’d prefer to avoid obtaining any more freckles.” My stomach growled loudly. “Did you say something about lunch?”

  Patrick threw his head back and laughed. “Yes, I did. I am sorry I scared you this morning. Let me take you out for lunch to make it up to you.”

  I squinted at him, trying to decide if he was toying with me or being sincere. What the hell, he could take me out to lunch and I’d order the most expensive items on the menu as payback. “Okay, but I get to choose the place.” I paused. “And you’re buying me dessert.”

  Patrick smiled and stood up. “Okay.” He held out a hand and helped me stand. “Go get your stuff together and we’ll go wherever you want.”

  I went up to the guestroom, ran a brush through my hair, and slid some flip flops on my feet. We didn’t speak as he led me next door and loaded me into his Jeep. I gave him the name of one of my favorite restaurants. They would still be serving Sunday brunch, and the frittata was to die for. Once we arrived at the restaurant and were seated, Patrick looked at me, smiling.

  “So, exactly how much am I going to have to spend here today to get you to forgive me?”

  I did not like that he had me figured out so thoroughly. I opened the menu and began looking it over, even though I knew exactly what I wanted.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  He smiled. “Sure you do.”

  I sighed and closed the menu with a snap. “Fine, I will be ordering at least two mimosas, bruschetta, frittata, and dessert. Once I have consumed as much of those as possible, I might be in the mood to let you off the hook.”

  He laughed. I didn’t want to be amused, but I couldn’t stop the small smile from surfacing. It seemed he appreciated my quirky sense of humor. “I think I can handle that,” he said.

  I crinkled my nose at him. “The whole point of me ordering the most expensive thing on the menu is to cause you pain, well, at least cause your wallet pain. What good is forgiveness without at least a little retribution?”

  He shook his head. “I think the whole point of forgiveness is to let go of grievances without retribution, Cat.”

  “Why would I want to do that? I’m still a bit perturbed with you and I think you should pay.”

  He chuckled, still shaking his head. “Sure thing, sweetness.”

  I opened my mouth to blast him for his condescending attitude, but the waitress arrived. I ordered everything I told Patrick I would and decided, just for calling me sweetness, he would be buying me at least three mimosas.

  Lunch was more pleasant than I expected. Patrick was actually pretty funny and he seemed to get my twisted sense of humor. We also had more in common than I thought. He liked the same mystery novels I did and we both enjoyed horror films. I doubted Patrick slept with a lamp on for a few days afterward. I also doubted that he checked out his closet before going to bed for at least a week after he’d watched the film. I didn’t mention either of these things, because even Nat made fun of me for freaking out after I watched a scary movie. When she asked me why I kept watching the damn things, I told her the truth. I liked being scared, at least while I was watching the movie. The paranoia that followed wasn’t as fun.

  I ate quite a bit and downed three mimosas. I would have had four, but I didn’t think I could hold all the food and drink. Patrick paid the bill, winking at me as he did it. I ignored the little flutter in my belly when he did, chalking it up to too much food.

  We got into the car and rode in silence back to Nat’s house. I wasn’t sure what to say so I just watched the streets and businesses pass by. Patrick had surprised me today. He had been different today than any other time we’d spent together. All the sparring and bickering from before was gone. Sure, he’d teased me and he could be incredibly sarcastic, but it was funny rather than annoying. He was actually a pretty cool guy.

  I stiffened. He was my type of guy,
the kind of guy I would have gone for a few years ago before I realized that happily ever after would never exist for me. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t go back there again. The hope of the fairy tale and the crushing of that hope had left me devastated. I opened my eyes and looked over at Patrick. He was looking at me like he could see right into my brain and he knew exactly what I was thinking.

  He studied me for a moment, eyes intense. I turned back toward the window and ignored him. When I glanced back over at him again, he was looking at the road. He pulled into his garage and shut off the car. We climbed out of the car. The strange tension in me unwound when I got a little space to myself.

  Before I turned away and walked out the garage, I gave him a small smile. “You’re forgiven for this morning, by the way.”

  I saw his grin flash.

  With that, I walked over to Nat’s house. I also decided that I would avoid Patrick Hart for the foreseeable future. He was too dangerous to my peace of mind.

  I stuck with my decision to avoid Patrick for two whole days. Unfortunately, my clumsiness ruined my decision. It was a running joke among my family and friends that I literally couldn’t walk and breathe at the same time. What made this even funnier to them was my decision to become a physical therapist. Even my patients made comments about how klutzy I was. So, Tuesday night, after my shift at the hospital, I was getting out of the shower when I slipped. Arms pinwheeling, I grabbed whatever I could get my hands on. The first thing my fingers brushed was the hose hanging from the shower head. I grabbed ahold and ripped the entire damn thing off the wall. I managed to keep my feet and avoid breaking a hip on the side of the tub, but I held the hose with the shower head dangling from it. Great.