Love Next Door (Lakeside #1) by Helena Hunting

I cringe as he turns around and adjusts the brim of his hat. Most of the guy’s face is in shadow, apart from his chin and mouth. A flash of memory from a decade ago pops like a bubble, gone before I can catch it. He flips his hat around so it’s facing backward, and I realize it’s Van. Hanging with the locals.

Tawny gives a low whistle. “Who the heck is that delicious hunk of yummy man?”

“That’s Bee’s grandson. He’s my neighbor.”

“Holy hotcakes on the griddle, he’s ridiculously gorgeous.”

“He is that. He’s got some asshole friends, though. And he can be an asshole at times too.” I say that through gritted teeth while smiling and waving at him.

He tips his head to the side, a slow half smile forming on his lips. His eyes roam over me in a leisurely sweep. He doesn’t so much as glance at Tawny or Allie. He tips his chin up in acknowledgment and then turns back to his group.

“Ooooh, looks like someone has a thing for his neighbor.” Allie elbows me in the side.

I roll my eyes. “He doesn’t have a thing for me. We can barely have a conversation without arguing.” And he seems to enjoy pushing my buttons.

“Then why is he headed this way?”

“Huh?” I glance back in his direction to find that he is most certainly headed toward us.

“Crap,” I mutter. I resist the urge to touch my hair or do any of the typical things women do when a ridiculously attractive man is approaching. It annoys me to no end that I react like this to Van. I don’t even really know him, and what I do know, I’m still on the fence about, especially after last night.

“Howdy, neighbor, I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” He tucks a thumb in his pocket and smiles, gaze still firmly fixed on me.

“It’s a local party and I’m a local; not sure why I wouldn’t be here.” Clearly I’m dishing out my surly tonight.

Allie coughs into her elbow, and Tawny sucks her teeth, probably trying not to laugh.

Van’s smile turns into a smirk. “You planning to police the noise and music choices?”

I don’t return the smile. “There don’t seem to be any screaming banshees around, calling people trailer trash, so it looks like I’m off duty tonight.”

He sobers. “I’m sorry about that. Monica was way out of line.”

“Nothing I haven’t heard before.” Which is true. It’s not the first time that term has been directed at me. Although usually I’m not practically in my own backyard, nor is that negative slur coming from my neighbor. It frustrates me that a place that used to be a haven of fond memories is turning into something else.

“That doesn’t make it better. She was horrified this morning, and hungover. Spent most of last night puking.”

“Is that why she isn’t gracing us with her presence tonight?”

“They took off early this morning. She wanted to go over and apologize, but it was early, and she was a hot mess. Besides, Monica is probably the shittiest apologizer in the history of the universe, so I figured it was better if she left the apologizing to me.”

I shake my head and fight a chuckle. “If you invite her back and she insults me again, I’ll probably toss her in the lake.”

“I have zero plans to invite her back. But I would pay money to see that.” He rocks back on his heels and glances to the right of me, where Allie and Tawny are raptly watching this interaction. “Oh, how rude of me.” He holds out his hand to Tawny first. “I’m Van, Dillion’s neighbor.”

“I’m Tawny and this is Allie.” She motions to her with her cup. “We’ve been friends with Dee ever since we could put two words together.”

“That’s a long time and some real devotion to the art of communication and friendship.” He nods a couple of times. “Anyway, I thought I’d come say hi. And apologize.”

“I think we’re probably even with apologies at this point.”

“Does this mean we’re calling a truce?”

“As long as you’re not hammering away on something before seven tomorrow morning and your friends aren’t calling me names, I think we’re good. And I won’t accuse you of getting my brother wasted.”

He holds out his hand, and I slip mine into his. The air around us suddenly feels charged, like the shock of a lightning bolt cutting through the sky.

Shouts and laughter draw my attention away from my suddenly charismatic attractive neighbor, and I release his hand, a shiver rushing down my spine despite the heat. I frown as I take in the scene unfolding next to the campfire. “Oh, for the love of Pete.” The end of my brother’s crutch is smoking. He stabs the bottom in the sand and stumbles forward, perilously close to the edge of the fire.

“Billy!” I call his name, but he either can’t hear me over the shouts and laughter or he’s ignoring me. “Hold this.” I pass Tawny my drink and stalk across the beach toward my brother. He loses his balance but thankfully ends up on his ass in the sand, howling with laughter.

People move out of the way as I approach and come to a halt right beside him lying in a heap on the beach. I sincerely hope there are sand fleas crawling around in his boxers. “What’re you doing?”

“Having fun! What are you doing?” He points the slightly charred end of his crutch at me, and I lift my arm, using it as a shield to keep the crutch from smacking me in the face.