Over the Fence (16 page)

“Really? You want to?” She sounded nervous again.

“Yes. You should know that already,” I scolded gently. “I’ll go eat some more of your delicious casserole and you can call or text me after you’re done with your meal, okay?”

“I’d like that.”

I sat, eating her scrumptious casserole, and thinking. I missed her, and not only for her cooking. The fact she was going to be home tomorrow made me strangely happy, and it wasn’t a feeling I was used to. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how much I had come to depend on her presence. How quick I had grown attached to her company. Unless I was mistaken, she had missed me as well.

She thought of us as friends. Fence friends. I frowned, realizing it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. She made me want so much more and if I was being honest, I already felt so much more.

But would she allow it to change? Girlfriend rather than fence friend? Or was I simply the funny guy next door; the proverbial stray cat, the one she feels sorry for and feeds? Would she let me be more?

Part of me wanted to pick up the phone and ask her, but I knew I couldn’t do it. I knew I had to take it slow, but I wanted to move things forward. I simply wasn’t sure how
.
I didn’t want to scare her away, and I had the feeling I could easily do so.

I sat staring at my phone, waiting for her to call. I already knew she would be wondering if she should call or text, or if she would be overstepping some invisible line she had in place, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. She was much braver on text, and I knew how to make her smile.

You know, I’m still waiting. It seems you forgot again, Chefgirl.

?

Socks?

Oh.

Give it up.

Pink yellow blue green orange.

Wow—did a color wheel roll by and throw up on you?

Ha-ha, polka dots, Nat.

Polka dots—sexy.

Yes, polka dot socks are sexy. NOT.

On you, I bet they are.

Stop it.

Nope. Part of my charm.

Is that what that is?

Yep. Get used to it; I’m only getting warmed up.

I’ve been warned I guess?

I’d say. You’ll be here when I get home tomorrow?

Yes, my flight gets me there mid-afternoon.

I’ll meet you at the fence.

OK.

I’ll be waiting. My hand misses yours.

Nut.

We’ve covered this. Only for you.

Rolling my eyes. Did you eat?

Yes. Awesome. And still leftovers for torturing. Life is good.

Go to bed.

I will . . . You’re not going out, are you?

I may go for a walk—it’s nice out. But I’ll take my phone and not go far, OK? Relax.

OK—but stay away from all the doctors—in fact, if anyone comes near you, kick them in the nuts and run like hell.

Laughing very hard here. I don’t get your sudden dislike of the medical profession.

I’ll explain one day.

I’ll hold you to that. If I have to stay away from doctors, you stay away from that tramp, Marie.

I laughed as I typed her reply.

Done. Her charms are cold to me now. Get it?

You are on a roll tonight.

Text to let me know you’re back safe.

It’s a walk. I don’t want to wake you.

Please.

Okay. Worrywart.

That’s me. Night xx

Night.

Chefgirl . . . waiting.

For ?

You know what. Give it up.

x

Nice. I gave you 2 though.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Well, now I’m feeling a little cheap. We’ve only been texting a few days . . . I don’t put out that fast.

LOL. Refer to the deranged comments again. I take them all back but 2 okay?

Nope. They’re all mine now. Keeping them.

I give up. You’re worse than a child.

Kourtney?

Yes?

I’m glad you’re coming home tomorrow.

Me, too.

Enjoy your walk.

I will.

I grinned as I flopped down on the mattress. Kourtney would be home tomorrow. We had missed each other. The last few days had proven we had a relationship of some sort. Now I wanted to figure out exactly what kind it was.

I had a ladder. Either I was going over the fence, or through it, but it was time to stop it from being the boundary that separated us. It was time to meet my neighbor.

Face-to-face.

The day couldn’t end fast enough. Kourtney was coming home.

I arrived home in record time, anxious for the evening to begin. Tonight, I would hear her sweet voice and laughter as we ate dinner. Dinner, I knew, she would make for us. I had missed everything about her the past few days—talking with her, the way she teased me, her cooking, and especially the hesitant brush of her fingers with mine over the fence. I felt as empty as her house had been the past few days without her presence.

Tonight, after dinner, I was determined to ask her out. If she wasn’t comfortable with my idea, I’d settle for coffee. It could be in her backyard; I didn’t care, as long as it was together. No fence. If that failed, I was climbing the ladder and sitting on top of the fence until she was comfortable enough to let me get closer. I would be patient. I knew she liked me, and I
more
than liked her. I wanted to get to know her and the fence had to go—for good.

Pulling into the driveway, I frowned. A large, overly decked out truck was parked in Kourtney’s driveway. I had never known her to have any visitors and I would certainly remember such a hideous truck. I snorted as I looked it over; someone wanted attention. You didn’t drive that monstrosity unless you wanted people to notice you. Brilliant yellow flames across a bright orange paint job, sitting on top of too-large tires, all screamed
“look at me!”

I parked in the garage and made my way to my room for a quick shower and change of clothes. As I ran a comb through my hair, I studied myself in the mirror, wondering if Kourtney would like what she saw. A true ginger, my hair was a force unto itself, which I had learned to ignore. Maybe the fact she liked red would work in my favor. I was tall and lean, almost gangly looking, unless I worked out and kept up the muscle mass. My face was all right, and women commented on my bright blue eyes a lot. I certainly wouldn’t win any modeling contracts, but I hoped Kourtney would approve.

I stopped in the kitchen to pick up the wine and little bouquet of flowers I had bought on impulse for Kourtney at the store. The lilies in the middle had made me think of her and I thought she would be pleased at the welcome home gesture. I wanted her to know how
much
I had missed her. I hesitated, wondering about who was at her house, then decided to go outside and have a beer while I waited. When her company left, no doubt she’d come outside, and I would give her the flowers. She knew I was waiting for her.

Once outside, I climbed the ladder, placing the small bouquet on the top of the fence. She would see it when she came out and it would make her happy.

Sitting down, I cracked open the beer and had a long, appreciative swallow. I sat back, preparing to get comfortable, only to sit straight back up. I could hear raised voices next door. More specifically, I could hear the angry voice of a man, berating someone—and that someone had to be Kourtney. I hurried back over to the fence and stood still, listening. For a heartbeat, there was nothing, but then, I heard it again, louder. Whoever was next door was shouting at Kourtney, their menacing tone and curse words insulting, filling me with anger.

Without thinking, I climbed the ladder and swung myself up onto the top of the fence, hesitating for a moment. As soon as I heard her muffled voice carry through the air, its tone scared and pleading, the decision was made. Something was wrong and Kourtney was in trouble. Ignoring her ladder leaning on the fence, I dropped down to the deck, my sneakers absorbing the impact, and hurried to her door. I looked inside, my stomach clenching at the sight before me. This stranger had hold of her arms, pinning her to the wall while he screamed in her face. She was shaking, cowering and pleading; and fury tore through me was a hot flame. I had to stop him.

Right. The. Fuck. Now.

The sliding door creaked as I tore it open in my haste. The shouting was louder now; his abusive words ricocheting round the room. I charged; my shoulder slamming into his side, sending him flying away from her body. He hit the opposite wall hard, causing the pictures to shake and one to fall off, the glass shattering as it hit the floor. Kourtney’s gasp of shock and his surprised curse were both followed by silence.

“The lady asked you to stop,” I snarled at him, stepping in front of her in protection.

He gaped at me, stupefied. “Who the fuck are you? Where did you come from?”

I glared at him. “You don’t get to ask any questions, asshole. Who the fuck are
you
, coming into her house, screaming at her? Hurting her?” I stepped forward, my stance threatening.

He scowled toward Kourtney, pointing an angry finger my way. “Kourtney, who the fuck is this?” Looking back at me, he yelled, “Get out of here—this is a private family matter. We don’t need some snoopy neighbor sticking his nose in where it doesn’t belong. Go back to wherever the fuck you came from.”

I shifted over, blocking his view, as I glared at him, my voice low and furious. “You don’t get to make that decision and you don’t get to talk to her anymore, fucker. And I’m not going anywhere. You are.”

I reached behind me, finding Kourtney’s trembling hand. “Kourtney, call the police.” I felt her hand clutch mine, and I squeezed it in reassurance, letting her know she was safe.

He let out a snide laugh. “Yeah, do that,
Kourtney
. We’ll see who they deal with first—your family or a nosy neighbor who came in uninvited and assaulted me,” he sneered.

I stared at him in horror. This was Kourtney’s brother. Her words came back to me. “
Every day I’m not subjected to them is a good day.”

“Just go away, Andy. Please . . . leave me alone,” she pleaded.

“We’re not done here. Tell this asshole to—”

I lurched forward, catching him by surprise, cutting off his words. My arm bent at his throat and I leaned in, pushing into him as my other hand slammed into his stomach. His gasp of pain was rewarding and I stared at him in loathing. “She
asked
you to leave. You have two choices. Either do what she says or I send her to call the police. While she’s gone you and I are gonna find out what happens when you try to pick on someone your own size.” I lowered my voice even more. “I promise; it’s not going to end well for you.” I pressed forward again, further cutting off his airway. I watched without regret as his face began to turn red and his eyes bugged out of their sockets.

“Nathan, let him go.” Kourtney spoke up from behind me. “He’ll leave. Right, Andy?”

Andy made a small, grunting noise and I stepped back, watching as he struggled to get air into his lungs. He glared at Kourtney behind me. “We aren’t done here. You owe us, you lazy, ungrateful bitch,” he panted.

I was done with this asshole. I grabbed his arm, twisting it as I turned him away, this time smashing his face into the wall. His other arm shot out wildly, knocking another picture off the wall, plus the table beside it, both crashing to the floor. Behind me, I heard Kourtney’s terrified whimper. I was desperate to turn around and check on her, to make sure she was okay, but I had to deal with the problem causing her fear. I clutched the back of his neck, forcing him toward the door, keeping his arm twisted up in what I knew was a painful angle. I got the front door open and pushed him outside. He fell to his knees, grunting with pain as I towered over him.

“Stay the fuck away from her. Do you understand me?”

He was slow to rise; hatred in his eyes. “This is none of your goddamned business.”

I narrowed my eyes, curling my hands into fists. “That’s where you’re wrong, asshole. Everything about that woman is my business. Stay the fuck away from her. If you come anywhere near her again, you’ll regret it. You have to get past me to get to her—which is
not
going to happen.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “I know people on the police force. I’ll bring you up on assault charges.”

I laughed without humor. “Go for it, shithead. I know people too—higher up than the local police force. I’ll have Kourtney press charges and I’ll file some myself,” I threatened, my anger barely contained. “We’ll start with breaking and entering, add in assault and go from there. Your life as you know it will be over. Done. You won’t fucking know what hit you.”

He faltered. I smirked—bullies never took threats very well. They preferred to be the one doing the threatening.

I stepped forward, sneering, as he moved back. “Are you listening to me?
Stay. The. Fuck. Away
. And, whatever you
think
she owes you? She doesn’t. The slate is clean. She owes you
nothing
.” I glared at him, not surprised when he broke eye contact first.

“I’m sick of your face already.” I jerked my chin toward the truck. “Get your ass in that pathetic piece of shit you concocted to make up for whatever physical deficiencies you have and leave. You’re not welcome here. Ever.”