When Leslie found out she couldn’t have children over a year ago, I offered to be their surrogate. It was an easy decision for me because they helped me out so much. They brought me to life. The least I could do was deliver them one.
At four months pregnant, I’m embarking on a life I never knew I would.
As a single mother.
Reed
I knew my new neighbor was moving in this weekend. The realtor who sold the other half of my duplex mentioned it a couple of weeks ago when she was collecting the property's keys from me. The previous owners left in a hurry and hadn’t had time to meet with her, so they were dropped off with me.
At the time of our last meeting, I told her the weekend wouldn’t be a problem—I typically work the day shift. However, three days later, my captain requested that I train a new rookie on the night watch.
Sleeping during the day is hard enough. Add in someone moving in with the help of what appeared to be a football team, and they don't mix.
However, seeing her, listening to her speak, I became an asshole because her beauty knocked me on my ass. The way she smiled, though, that's what caught my attention. To anyone not paying attention—which I suspect happens often—they wouldn’t have recognized the sadness in her stare when her face spoke of happiness.
I don’t know what it is about her, but there’s something different about Hope Carson. Something she tries to hide from the world.
Watching the men who were helping her unload leave, my curiosity gets the best of me. Once they’ve cleared the driveway, leaving the moving truck behind, I hop the railing between our porches and knock on the door. Waiting a beat for sounds of movement, I knock again.
“Come in!” I hear called out and scowl. Does the woman not have any self-preservation?
After opening the door, my gaze roams the room to see boxes in nearly every corner and the couch in the middle of the room, facing a white wall.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I snap.
She sits up so quickly she nearly falls off the couch. Jumping forward, I grab ahold of her arm and pull her back into the cushions, nearly toppling forward myself.
A short breath of air away from her face, and I can see she’s been crying. Not just little tears either. This girl is upset. “What’s wrong?” The protector in me will do almost anything to stop a woman from crying.
“Nothing”—she wipes her face with the sleeves of her baggy sweater—“just overwhelmed.”
That fucking fake ass smile is back.
My jaw clenches.
“Liar.”
“I am not!” Pushing me back, she stands up and grabs one of the frilly pillows off the couch, holding it to her chest.
“You are. I’m a cop, and I’m trained to recognize when I’m being lied to.” Crossing my arms, I dare her to dispute me.
“You’re very rude,” she smarts out instead.
Almost immediately, I can see she regrets the insult.
Before she can apologize, my hand smacks my chest in mock pain. “I’m hurt. You don’t know me, how can you say I’m rude?” I give her a cocky smile to match the sarcasm in my tone, but the way she watches me, I can tell she’s trying to work something out in her head, only I’m not sure what.
“I’m so sorry.” Those damn tears hover again. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
What the hell?
“I was kidding,” I try to reassure her.
“Y–y–you were?” I laugh at the way she cocks her head to the side and nod. “Dammit!”
“What?” I stand up straighter; something is clearly wrong. My investigative nose is tingling about it too.
“Nothing. Was there something you wanted?” Her words are cordial, polite even, but I can feel the distress oozing off her.
“Not really, no.”
“Oh, okay.”
We both stand, staring at one another, waiting for the other to say something. The longer the silence, the more uncomfortable she becomes. I know she loathes this awkward in-between moment we’re having, but it gives me a feel for who she is. And who she is, is someone I’d like to get to know more. I’m attracted to her, sure, she’s a beautiful woman, but it’s more than that. She has a vulnerable innocence about her that I’m dying to explore.
“Can I take you for dinner?” I ask, not ready to leave her company yet.
Hope turns around, looking for someone else in the room, I think, before pointing to herself. “Me?”
Laughing softly, I nod my head, “Yeah, Hope, you.”
“Why?” Her confusion is clear.
She makes me a little sad. “I find you interesting.” Stepping closer to her, she doesn’t back away from me like I thought she would. When I grip her elbows in my hands, however, her body tenses.
“I want to know more about you, pretty girl,” I whisper, leaning closer. Her eyes widen, and I give her a chance to pull away before slowly lowering my lips over hers.
She’s soft, unsure, sweet.
So goddamned shy.
I don’t push for more. I don’t even know why I pressed for this innocent touch, but holy shit, I want more.
“I don’t know your name,” she mumbles against my mouth as a shiver works through her frame.
Pleased that she’s not unaffected, I respond, “My name is Reed Burkhart. I’m a sergeant with the Jacksonville PD, and today I was a dick to you when I already knew you were moving in. Please let me take you for dinner.” I’m not above begging.
“Reed.” She whispers my name as I pull away from her, and my damn dick weeps for her to do it again.
“Jesus,” I groan. “I really want to kiss you.”
“I thought you just did?” She purses her lips.
“No, pretty girl, that was just a taste. I want the whole course now.”
“I see,” she replies, but I can tell she doesn’t, so I take a step back, giving her room to breathe.
“So, dinner. Was that a yes?” I give her my most charming smile, but she still has a perplexed look on her face. Confused as to why I want to get to know her.
Hell. I’m confused too.
Dating your neighbor is about as bad as dating your best friend's sister.
Hope
Dinner?
Do neighbors go to dinner together?
Are we just neighbors after that kiss?
What did that kiss mean?
I’m so befuddled.
I hate feeling this way. Especially when it comes to men. I've never been good at figuring them out. Reed, being hard to read, doesn’t help either.
“Hope?” He stares down at me.
“Why?”
He looks perplexed. “What do you mean, why?”
“Why do you want to take me to dinner?” Focusing on that is much simpler than focusing on the kiss. My lips still tingle.
Taking a step back from me, he crosses his arms. “If you don’t want to go out, that’s fine, just say so.”
Blowing out a frustrated breath, I force the tears back that are threatening to gather because I can’t let him see how upsetting this is for me. I don’t know if he’s angry, though, I suspect he is.