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Category:
Romance
Type: Fiction
Copyright: Dec 24, 2014
Price: $1.99 (eBook)
A down-on-her-luck nurse, an ex-con, and a haunted house—what could go wrong?
Some mistakes have far-reaching consequences, most secrets are better left untold, and bad neighbors can make your life hell. When Kate inherits her aunt’s aging Florida home, financial woes and sheer desperation cause her to set aside a decade-old vow to never again set foot in the Sunshine State. But she'll soon find that her new home is full of shadows and secrets.
Excerpt
Punish thy neighbor...
She stood on tip-toe, leaned over the sink, and craned her neck in order to get a better view of the driveway next door. Her mouth hung open as she watched Jaxson crank up a portable radio even louder, then prance down his porch steps toward his ancient car. A button-down crop top was open across his chest and tied in a knot several inches north of his navel. The fabric clung, wet and sheer, to his shoulders and arms. A pair of low-heeled silver pumps caught the sunlight and glistened as he turned to the side and bent down toward a red plastic bucket.
He was wearing a thong.
Somewhere down the street a car honked, a dog barked, and a man yelled what sounded suspiciously like “put some clothes on.”
“Kate?” The line crackled again.
“I’m fine, Lindsey, but I’m not getting any reception in here right now, for some reason. I’ll text you later.” She hung up and shoved the phone into the pocket of her jeans, all without taking her eyes off of the spectacle taking place in the driveway next door.
“What in God’s name…” She raised a hand to her temple as her head began to pound in time to the beat of the music. Outside, in the vibrant—blinding—sunlight, Jaxson straightened away from the bucket, a large blue rectangular sponge clasped in his hands. Kate watched in fascinated horror as he raised the sponge over his chest and squeezed the soapy water over his already soaked torso. The ends of his long blond wig also received a good soaking.
She opened the window and attempted to shout over the music. The rock tune ended, and a pulsing techno beat was carried through the window on a gust of warm, humid air. Two cups of coffee threatened to come back up, and Kate gripped the edge of the kitchen sink. A second later, she slammed the window shut, having given up on making herself heard over all the noise.
Shoving her wallet back into the purse that was draped over the back of a kitchen chair, she wandered into the front parlor and attempted to lie down on the couch. The room reeked of the red wine she had spilled on the carpet last night and neglected to clean up—and she could still hear her neighbor’s music. She could also feel it vibrating through her sofa. She clutched her head between her hands and groaned. Another car horn sounded outside, and she was on her feet and heading for the front door. Enough was enough already.
Stopping only long enough to snag a pair of sunglasses from the side pocket of her purse, she stalked onto the front porch, wincing as the screen door banged shut behind her. A dark blue sedan cruised slowly to the end of the block, the vehicle’s darkly tinted windows making it impossible to discern anything about the driver.
Her mouth settled into a grim line as she clomped down her own sagging porch steps and advanced on her neighbor. Was it any wonder that people were inching down the street? They were probably rubber-necking at the sight of a grown man in … whatever you called what Jaxson was wearing.
Jaxson went momentarily still when he finally glanced up and saw Kate striding across the lawn. The look in his eyes became shuttered, unreadable, as she halted a few feet away from him. Looking him in the eyes—and only in the eyes—was difficult, but somehow she managed it. The fact that moving her head made her want to vomit helped, she was sure.
“Can you please turn the music down?” She raised her voice to be heard over the noise.
Jaxson lowered the sponge and frowned. “What?” he shouted.
“Can you please turn the—”
“I can’t hear you!” He shook his head and leaned in closer until droplets of cold, soapy water plopped onto Kate’s feet, dripping through the narrow slits in her Crocs and sliding between her toes to form small, wet pools in her shoes.
“Turn the music down!”
“Oh.” Comprehension dawned in Jaxson’s cool, green eyes. “No.” He turned back toward the car and raised the sponge.
“No? No…?” Kate sputtered, glaring at her neighbor’s back. Of all the rude, un-neighborly crap!
She spun on her heel, prepared to stomp back to her own house and hole up in a back bedroom with a pillow over her head. The techno song ended, and a radio announcer’s voice screeched through the speakers. The shrill sound speared through her head, and slowly she turned around. Jaxson was leaning over, drenching the hood of his car in sudsy water as the DJ rattled on at ear-splitting volume about free tickets and caller number five. She could go back home. Do her best to ignore Jaxson. It was the sensible thing to do, the reasonable thing to do—the Kate thing to do. Her gaze moved over her mercurial neighbor, then past him, to the porch, and she glared at the offending radio as she kicked off her wet, slippery shoes.
Screw reasonable. She was tired of being nice.
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