The Guy Next Door

chapter FOUR



“YO. PRETTY GIRLIES.”

Hannah tossed her hair and groaned, ignoring the man’s comment as she and Holly walked toward the water’s edge. Once they were out of earshot, Hannah leaned in toward her friend. “Did you see that dude? It should be against the law for someone so totally old to wear a Speedo! He was, like, almost as old as your Mom!”

“I think I’m going to dry-heave,” Holly replied.

Hannah suddenly perked to attention. “Hi!” she said, swiveling her head to catch the eye of a much younger and hotter dude who was making his way across the sand.

The man just barely raised his chin in acknowledgment.

“Damn,” Hannah said, sticking her toe into the gentle waves of the Gulf of Mexico. “The guys here are totally stuck-up, unless they’re old and desperate and wearing gold chains. Then they’re just plain creepy.”

“I got some breaking news for you, Hannah.” Holly couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s naiveté. “Remember what I told you? That some of the best-looking guys here are gay?”

Her friend’s eyes widened behind her sunglasses. “Him? But, I mean, I realize there are a lot of gay men in Key West, but he was so…I don’t know…”

“Perfect?” Holly asked.

Hannah nodded and sighed. “I guess that should have been my first hint, huh?”

“You girls aren’t afraid of getting burned?”

The girls looked up into the faces of two incredibly good-looking guys who’d approached them unnoticed. They were maybe just a few years older. Both had dark, dark brown hair and dark, dark brown eyes and big, white smiles. And the way they were checking them out indicated there wasn’t a gay bone in either of their totally buff bodies.

“Your skin looks delicate,” one of them said, touching Hannah’s shoulder with his fingers. “You should probably put on some sunscreen.”

The girls turned to each other with open mouths.

Hot twins? Holly couldn’t believe it. How freakin’ epic is this?

“So, have you had lunch?” one of them asked.

Holly watched her friend smile and straighten her spine, as if the boys weren’t already aware of her 36Ds—as though anyone south of the Everglades wasn’t aware of them.

“No,” Hannah answered. “And I’m suddenly starving.”





THE KISS ALONE WAS SO unexpectedly delicious that Jesse was nearing sensory overload. So when Gail’s cell phone began to vibrate somewhere inside the Sherpa-sized straw bag now wedged between their bodies, the direct buzz to his crotch was almost too much to bear.

He hated to do it, but he pulled his lips away from hers. Gail stared at him with eyes as big as sand dollars.

“I should probably get that,” she said.

He nodded, pressed his fingers to his lips as if to seal in the sensation and backed away. Jesse headed out through the set of French doors to the museum veranda, gulping down the fresh air. I just made out with one of Lelinda’s paying customers, he thought to himself. I just kissed the woman staying next door, a woman I barely know. He heard loud giggling and turned to see that apparently he’d done it in front of a dozen Chinese visitors, to boot.

Jesse waved to them sheepishly. “Welcome to Key West,” he muttered, leaning his elbows on the railing. Even through the tourists’ snickering, Jesse could hear Gail on the phone with her daughter. He turned his head to look at her.

“That sounds fun, honey,” she was saying, her eyes darting toward Jesse every few seconds. Gail tried to smooth down her hair. “Sure, that’s fine. I appreciate your asking for permission. Wear life jackets and call me when you get back to the dock. Don’t forget to reap-ply your sunscreen. Remind Hannah, too.”

Jesse watched her turn off her cell phone and tug awkwardly on her skirt. Then Gail took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before she headed his way.

“I apologize,” she said in what was obviously her professor’s voice. The wanton strumpet who’d revealed herself only moments before was nowhere to be seen. “I think I better walk home.”

“I’ll go with you,” Jesse said.

“No, that’s not necessary.”

“Oh, yes it is.”

Jesse followed her down the back steps to the Spanish-tile courtyard and past Hemingway’s exotic inground pool. He gave a quick wave and shouted a thank-you to the Purdys, who were seated on a bench under a large eucalyptus tree. Jesse jogged to keep up with Gail before she’d made it to the front yard and out the gate.

“Hold on, Gail.”

She shook her ponytail, not looking back.

“Look, I have a moped parked right around the corner. I’ll give you a lift back to the house.” Jesse had reached her side, but she hadn’t slowed her march. It was impressive that Gail was at least five inches shorter than his six-one frame but her stride could cover some serious territory. “Talk to me, Professor.”

She turned to face him. He wasn’t prepared for what he saw—profound embarrassment. Guilt. Desire. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

It was then that Jesse knew his first impression of his neighbor had been accurate. She had no game. She was out here in the world without pretense. And that kiss had affected her deeply. It was clear that Gail Chapman was a vulnerable and attention-starved woman, and Jesse shouldn’t be messing with her. If he were smart, he’d let her walk on home by herself the way she’d insisted. He was about to tell her as much when she looked up at him and smiled sadly.

“You’re an exceptionally smart and handsome man.” Gail’s brown eyes were unflinching. “I’m sure you have a wife or girlfriend—or maybe several of them. But that’s none of my business. What I’m trying to say is that I shouldn’t have thrown myself at you. That’s not like me at all. And I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to—”

The professor pressed the palm of her small hand against his chest to stop him from saying more. “I’ve been divorced for six years, Jesse, and I haven’t dated much. My ex-husband was a philanderer and a white-collar criminal, and I admit I basically shut down after the divorce. I’m no good at this sort of thing. Casual sex, I mean.”

Jesse blinked, dumbstruck. Never in his thirty-eight years had he heard a woman cut to the chase the way Gail just had. Her raw honesty was startling.

“Thanks for the tour. You really know your Hemingway, Captain.” She gave his shirt an affectionate pat. “Goodbye.”

“You’ve got it all wrong,” he said.

Gail spun around, a small frown between her pale brows.

“I’ve never been married and I am not seeing anyone.”

“Oh.”

“And that was the most incredible first kiss I’ve had since Myra Castillo planted one on me in sixth grade.” Jesse couldn’t figure out why, but it gave him a rush of pleasure to see Gail’s shy smile return.

“I have an idea.” Suddenly, Jesse was feeling protective of her. He wanted to salvage her day. “Let me give you a private tour of Key West. Just you and me—” Jesse stopped himself, tipping his head toward her purse. “And your very large straw bag.”

Gail sniffed, trying to act offended but already starting to laugh.

“What in God’s name do you have in there, anyway?”

“Nothing. Yet,” she said. “But I wanted to have it with me so I could carry any treasures I might find while I’m in town—artwork, cute T-shirts, a good book.”

Jesse grinned, making a mental note to circumvent Duval between Angela and Petronia until he could get Chago to dismantle the permanent J.D. Batista shrine in the window of Island Books. His buddy owed him a favor.

“I’m at your service,” Jesse said, extending his hand to the lovely professor.

She accepted it. Jesse didn’t understand why or how, but the way her hand slipped into his felt like an answer to a question, a question he hadn’t even planned on asking.





“SO WHERE ARE YOU STAYING?”

Though the girls had been hanging out with Luis and Nestor for only a couple of hours, they already felt comfortable, as if they’d known each other for years. Hannah laughed at most everything that came out of Nestor’s mouth. Luis seemed to be the more serious of the two and, in Holly’s opinion, the most handsome. The two local community college students seemed really polite and sweet.

Then again, the brothers thought Holly and Hannah were twenty-one-year-old juniors at Drexel University on their spring break, but those were just details.

“On a little street off Truman Avenue,” Holly answered. “I forget the name, but we always manage to find it.”

Luis took another bite from his grilled sandwich and cocked his head as he listened. “So you’re in a house, not a hotel?”

“Oh, yeah!” Hannah said. “It’s a really pretty cottage with a private pool and everything!”

Neither girl missed it when Luis and Nestor’s eyes connected over the lunch table.

“But my mom is with us,” Holly felt compelled to add. As much fun as a few beers and a little what-what in the pool sounded, she thought she should let them know it wasn’t going to happen. Not unless they could get her mom out of the house for several hours, and that was about as likely as five feet of snow accumulating in the Florida Keys. Holly looked around the table, embarrassed. No one knew that she’d called her mom from the ladies’ room just a few minutes before to get permission to go out on the boys’ water scooters. God, did it ever suck being seventeen! “My mom just earned her doctorate and needed a vacation, so we asked her to join us,” Holly said.

“Cool,” Nestor said.

“No problem,” Luis said.

The group was about to leave their outdoor table and head to the dock when Holly suddenly snapped to attention. Rolling toward the stop sign on Front Street was her mom. On the back of a moped. Her arms were wrapped around the hottie captain from next door. Her skirt was jacked up high enough for her to put the guy in an upper-thigh death grip.

She couldn’t freakin’ believe it.

Hannah began smacking Holly’s arm. “No way!” she said, pointing to the moped. “Do you see that?”

Holly nodded, speechless.

The boys laughed. “Oh, so you’re J.D. fans? That figures,” Luis sent a knowing smile to his brother. “Our dad owns Island Books. We’ve known Uncle Jesse all our lives. He’s like family.”

Holly frowned at Luis. Why was he suddenly putting on the swagger? Why did he think that knowing their neighbor dude would impress them?

“That’s nice,” Holly said, turning just in time to see her mother rip the ponytail holder from her hair and tilt her face back into the sun. The moped took off down the street and Holly heard her mom laugh, her blond hair flying out behind her in the wind.

“Who’s the babe with Uncle Jesse?” Nestor asked.

“No idea,” Luis said. “Just another party girl, I guess.”