Boy Next Door (Parkside Avenue Book #2) (3 page)

I scanned the shed quickly for
the shears, noting the gouges along the table’s surface. Tina had had sharp
nails. “Most likely kids,” I shouted.

“All the same, I think I’ll run
down to the hardware store this afternoon and buy a padlock. I’ve been meaning
to fix one on for ages,” he replied.

Finding the shears, I tucked them
into my back pocket, and picked up the ladders on my way back. “I can do that
for you, Paps. I’ve had some flyers made, advertising my gardening services.
They might let me leave a few on the counter.”

“I thought you were going to look
for a real job?”

I planned to take anything I
could find, but I needed as much money as I could get, as quickly as possible. My
plans were big, and slacking wasn’t an option. “I am, but it won’t hurt to have
a sideline.” I wiggled the ladder’s feet into the soil and climbed up. “How
much should I trim?”

“About two feet. It’s far too
overgrown, and I’d like it level with the top of the fence.”

I set to work lopping the
branches, and it wasn’t long before I had a great view over into next door.
“Did you know the neighbours have a pool?” I asked.

“Waste of money and space, if you
ask me. Why anyone would spend money on something that only gets used a couple
of times a year, when they could have a nice lawn instead, is beyond me.”

His grumblings about people’s
general lack of appreciation of a good garden washed over me. My attention was
occupied elsewhere. On the tiniest section of overgrown grass, behind the
swimming pool, a figure was contorted into a strange position. I stared in
admiration as it slowly formed another shape. Damn, she was flexible. I
wondered if she was seeing anyone. If so, I hoped he appreciated what a gem he
had. A woman as fine as her would know how to please a man. I could be that
man. Unlike Tina, Cora was just my type—if you took away the fact that she was
old enough to be my mother. Fair in colour and feminine, yet sporty, my brain
began to imagine her naked, bending her body around mine, as she twisted into a
new pose, met my eye, and smiled. Crap. I’d been caught peering over her garden
fence like a perv. At least she couldn’t read minds.

“Morning,” I said, holding up the
shears to prove I had a reason to be there, before severing a nearby branch.

Cora nodded, turned away, and
continued with her routine, but her indifference didn’t stop my eyes from drifting
over, more than once, before the hedge was fully shorn.

***

Sunshine streamed through a gap in
the curtains, making it impossible to sleep any longer. I got up and threw on
my black vest top and cargo shorts. I liked to keep in shape, but gym
membership was pricey, and I didn’t want to waste a single penny of my savings
on something I could do for free, so I planned to jog around the neighbourhood
distributing my leaflets through letterboxes. The hardware store had had a no
promotional literature on the counter policy, but they had allowed me to pin
one onto their notice board. It was a start, but I had to get my butt in gear
if I wanted to get the word out.

I managed to jog to the end of
the drive before stopping in my tracks. Cora was doing stretches on her front
porch.

Adjusting my bag full of leaflets
higher onto my shoulder, I stared at the woman who’d been skinny dipping in her
pool during my previous night’s dream. And when she bent to touch her toes, I
got an eyeful of creamy cleavage, bringing back memories of her pink nipples
bobbing above the water. Christ, I’d love to get a handful of those beauties.

As she straightened up, she
caught my eye, but pretended not to notice me.

“Nice daisies,” I shouted, giving
her no option but to acknowledge my presence. She narrowed her eyes and looked
me up and down. Her scrutiny was intimidating, yet strangely seductive. “H-hi. How
ya doing? I-I’m Johnny. I-I live next door.” Stop stuttering, man. You sound
like an idiot.

“Do you make a habit of staring
at your neighbours?”

No. Just you
. “Only when
I’m wondering why they have a meadow where their lawn should be.”

She had a deep, sexy laugh. I
liked it. Most girls giggled and drove me nuts. Cora’s laugh coated her throat
like a mature wine. “It is a bit long, isn’t it? But I admit I’m not friendly
with the lawnmower.” She strolled down the driveway, furrowing her brow as she
surveyed the grass. “My husband used to take care of such things.” She sighed.

“Used to?”

“He’s gone.”

I knew that. “I’m sorry.”
No
you’re not
.

Her laugh surfaced again, and a
hot rush swept through me. “Don’t be. He’s not dead. Just dead to me.” Her
words were said with so much venom, I wanted to ask why, but I held back. “I have
been meaning to hire someone to take care of this, but it hasn’t been one of my
priorities.”

“I could do it … if you like.”

She looked up through her lashes.
They were the longest I’d ever seen and framed her grey eyes perfectly. “You
want to mow my lawns?”

Blood hammered through my heart
and I felt it all the way to my toes. How could it be possible this woman was
having such an effect on me? “Mow your lawns, pull your weeds, show your garden
some love. It doesn’t seem to have had much lately.” Fuck. Did I seriously just
say that?

Thankfully my clanger went
unnoticed. “It didn’t have much when John was here, either. He wasn’t the
gardening type.”

John? Shit. What a fantastic
start. Now she’d be thinking about her husband every time she said my name, and
most likely resent me for it. “Oh? What type was he?”

“Ambitious. When he wasn’t at the
office he was thinking about it. Our whole life revolved around his work.” She
bent her legs behind her, alternately grabbing her feet to continue stretching.
“Until he left, I never realised how draining it was.”

Could her legs bend forwards as
easily as they bent backwards? I imagined how her ankles crushing the sides of
my neck would feel. “What happened?” I asked, immediately regretting the
question. I’d just met the woman and already I was prying into her life, but
for some reason, I had to know.

She paused, as if unsure as to
whether she should answer, before two words escaped on a breath. “Another
woman.”

Looking at the woman before me,
beautiful, fit body, and clearly sharp minded, I couldn’t comprehend any man
passing her over for someone else. He must have been insane. “His loss.”

She studied me, deep in
concentration, and I was immediately transported back to high school, when a
bunch of us were pulled into the headmaster’s office after the remains of a
joint was found behind B block. I’d practised my poker face that day, and was
the only one not to receive detention. I used it again under Cora’s gaze. If I
wanted this gig, I couldn’t let it show how much I wanted to get her in the
sack.

“What did you say your name was?”
she said.

“Johnny.” I cringed as the word
came out.

“Well, Johnny, I really must get
on with my run, but if you’re serious about helping out, come over this evening
and we’ll discuss the details.” The end of her sentence was carried on the wind
as she pressed a button on her stopwatch and set off at a pace.

Score.

Chapter Four

Not wanting to appear too eager, I
killed time by taking a shower and a shave, certain that sweaty pits and
stubble would not be on Cora’s list of turn-ons. At the back of my drawer, I
managed to find a T-shirt without a rock band logo on it, and I slapped on a
helping of aftershave, for good measure.

It was eight o’clock when I knocked
on Cora’s door. A young girl answered. “Hi,” she said. “Are you Ron’s son?”

I realised she must be one of the
famous daughters. “Grandson.”

“That’s right. Mum’s expecting
you. She’s in the lounge. I’m Nessie, by the way.”

“Johnny,” I replied.

I followed Nessie into the hallway.
From the back she looked a lot like her mother, apart from her clothes, but somehow,
I couldn’t see Cora wearing the strappy, crop top and tiny, denim hot pants,
exposing the hint of ass now wiggling in front of me. I’ve always been an ass
man, and the sight of her cute curves would normally have had me adjusting my
dick, but I was strangely comfortable.

Cora glanced up from her book as
I entered the room. “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she said with a weak smile.

Figuring it wasn’t the kind of
room where tatty trainers would be welcome, I kicked off my shoes and left them
at the door. “Why wouldn’t I?” I asked, scanning the room in two minds about
where I should sit.

Cora was curled into one end of
the cream sofa, and I didn’t want to encroach upon her personal space, so I
stepped towards a nearby chair. She patted the cushion beside her with her
French manicured fingernails. “You may have just been being polite.”

I sat down next to her, leaned
back leisurely, and crossed my ankles, quickly changing my mind and adjusting
to a more upright position with my hands clasped between my knees. “No. I was
serious. I’ve recently completed a degree in horticulture, and I’m looking for
work,” I said, trying to sound professional.

“Oh, I see. My eldest, Amy, is at
university now, and my youngest, Vanessa, whom you’ve just met, is due to start
there in September. Did you enjoy it?” Her grey eyes seemed genuinely
interested.

“It was a means to an end.” I
didn’t want to talk about uni. I hated the way it accentuated the difference in
our ages and made me feel like one of her kids. “I aim to own my own business,
one day.”

“Gardening?”

Bit of a stupid question. “Yes.
And for my first client, I’m offering special privileges.” The wink that
accompanied my sentence was involuntary, but every time I saw Cora, I felt
myself falling a little deeper, and my body had decided it was time to start
flirting.

“Which are?” Was it my
imagination or was that glint in her eye in response to my wink?

“My undivided attention.”

“Not that special if I’m your
only client.”

So not that stupid, after all. “I
also have skills that don’t involve vegetation.” Jeez, I was at it again.

“And what would they be?”

Rein it in, Johnny. You’ll scare
her off. “Carpentry, for one. Ever fancied a pergola, a bit of decking. A nice
place to do your yoga?”

“That’s very thoughtful of you.
I’ll give it some consideration.”

The following twenty minutes were
spent discussing her garden, although her tight little sweater of soft, pink wool,
practically shouting out and inviting my fingers to run over her alluring
curves, ensured I wasn’t paying as much attention to what she was saying as I
should have been. I had to force myself to focus on her face instead of her
breasts on more than one occasion. A drink wouldn’t have gone amiss either. My
mouth was a dry as a camel’s backside, and my tongue kept getting stuck at the
back of my throat. Thank Christ, I’d had the foresight to take a notebook, or I
would never have remembered our conversation, and would have been without the handy
boner cover when I got up to leave.

***

It was just my luck that it rained
for four days straight—heavy relentless rain that pounded the windows and
bounced of the pavements—and I had to postpone starting work on Cora’s garden. Fucking
British summers drove me nuts. Trust me to choose a weather-reliant career. I occupied
my time by contacting an old uni friend who’d offered to design a website for
me, and we ran through a number of ideas. Pappa was fascinated by the process,
continually looking over my shoulder to read the exchange of emails. To fuel
his interest in modern technology, I shared the workings of a software program
I’d developed, recommending the best plants for various seasons and soil
conditions.

The rain had kept Cora indoors
too. I knew that because I couldn’t resist keeping one eye on the window,
hoping for a glimpse of her, as I worked. By contrast, Kendrick was hardly ever
at home—and when he was, he was flaked out—offering me no opportunity to have
our promised chat.

On the fifth day, the clouds
broke, and, as Cora had requested, work began in the front garden of number twenty-one:
starting with the lawn and moving on to forking out the dandelions. By
mid-morning, I was parched, so when Cora emerged from the house with a glass of
cold lemonade I took it gratefully and gulped it down.

Furtively stealing a glance at my
employer, I noted she was dressed in a pretty halterneck number, lightly
skimming the top of her knees and exposing her shapely calves. And considering
how low the back was, there was no way she was wearing a bra. The thought
heated my blood and sent it straight to my groin.

“You look nice,” I commented. It
was an innocent remark. She couldn’t possibly take offence.

“Thank you. I’m meeting a friend
for lunch,” she said, taking my empty glass and placing it just inside the
door. “Will you be all right here while I’m gone?”

“Are you going into town?”

“Yes.”

“Driving?”

She jiggled a bunch of keys. “That’s
generally how I get there. Why?”

“I could do with a few supplies:
weed killer, lawn seed, that kind of thing.” And an excuse to be alone with
you. “You couldn’t drop me off at the store, could you? That is, unless you
already have what I need, but I didn’t spot any in your shed.”

“I’d be surprised if you found
anything in there not covered in rust or mildew. I should have realised you
might need to purchase a few things. Are you ready to leave now? I arranged to
meet Diane at twelve.”

Throwing the fork into the
wheelbarrow, I grinned. “Sure thing. I’m good when you are.”

She nodded. “Okay.” She glanced
down at the dirt covering my jeans. “I’ll just get a cover for the seat.”