Love Next Door (Lakeside #1) by Helena Hunting

Three hours and a mountain of scoured files later, we’re still in the dark. Van is frustrated and discouraged, so we call it a night, and I take him to bed. I might not be able to solve the problem for him, but at least I can provide a distraction.




I get the answers Van is looking for the following night, when I come home from work to find a rented black SUV parked in front of my trailer with windows tinted so dark I can see nothing but my reflection in them. For a moment I wonder if my dad and my uncle have gotten themselves into financial trouble without my knowing. These McMansion renos can be expensive, and a few years back my uncle took out some loans that weren’t from the bank. It was right around the time they almost went bankrupt. And it didn’t help that my uncle took some of the money to the slots to see if he could make a little extra on the side. Luckily we survived that mess, and quietly too. No one knows about it, and I’d like to keep it that way.

I look around, for what I’m not sure. Backup, maybe?

The driver’s side door opens, and a head appears, followed by a body. It takes me a moment to recognize Bradley, Van’s brother. He’s wearing dark sunglasses and a full suit. It happens to be over eighty degrees today, so it’s a lot of heavy fabric.

“Hey, Bradley. Is Van not home? Is he okay? Did something happen?” Panic hits, fast and hard, making it feel like I’m choking. My heart clenches, and I realize that I’m genuinely afraid. If something has happened to Van, I’m not sure I’ll be okay, because the feelings I’ve been trying to ignore have only grown stronger the more time I spend with him. I glance toward the trees, but they’ve filled in with the summer heat, so I can’t see much except for the roof of Bee’s cottage.

“He’s fine and not home. I’m actually here for you.” He smiles, but it’s stiff. “Do you have a minute to talk? I need your help with something.”

“Oh, like a surprise?” I have no idea when Van’s birthday is. I hope I haven’t missed it.

He smiles again, wider this time. “Come, let’s have a chat, Dillion.” He moves toward the trailer, which I don’t bother locking since the only thing of value in there is usually a six-pack of beer and occasionally my laptop, but mostly where I go, it goes.

He opens the door for me and follows me inside. Bradley seems like a pampered, spoiled younger brother, based on my impression from last weekend. I don’t dislike him, but he’s hard to get a read on. I can’t tell if he was joking about being the better-looking brother, or if he actually believes it.

I can see the similarities between him and Van. They’re definitely brothers. But where Van has a square jaw and slightly more rugged features, his brother is . . . softer, maybe more refined. He wears the suit like he belongs in it. Whereas Van looks best in a T-shirt and ripped jeans.

“Can I get you something to drink? I only have beer or water, but we have other stuff in the house.” I thumb over my shoulder.

“I’m fine, thank you.” He looks around the trailer, and I can practically feel the judgment oozing out of him. “So, this is where you live, Dillion?”

“For now, yup.”

“Dillion’s an interesting name.”

“It’s androgynous.” Might as well state the obvious.

His gaze moves over me. I’m still wearing a polo with the company logo—the ones in my size finally came in—and a pair of jeans and flip-flops. I leave the work boots at the office. “There’s certainly nothing androgynous about you, though, is there?”

“Okay, if you can dial your creepy back a few notches, that would be great. I’m not sure if you need a reminder, but I’m dating your brother, so this, whatever this is”—I fling a hand in his general direction—“needs to stop now.”

“I thought you were just sleeping with him.”

“We’re a thing. Which means we’re doing more than sleeping together.”

Bradley chuckles. “I can see why my brother likes you.”

“Why exactly are you here, again?”

He slides onto one of the bench seats and motions to the bench opposite him. “Have a seat.”

“I’m good standing, thanks.” I adopt a casual lean next to the door, both so I have an escape and because now I don’t trust Van’s brother. At all.

It’s about a thousand degrees in here, and I can feel the sweat dripping down my spine.

He makes a noise that sounds halfway to a laugh. “You’re the executor of my grandmother’s will.”

It’s a statement, not a question, so I don’t bother with a response.

He nods once and folds his hands on the table. He also tries to cross his legs but ends up hitting his knee on the crossbar. “She seemed to put a lot of responsibility in your hands. Especially for someone who wasn’t family.”

“I’ve lived next door to her my whole life. She was like family to me.”

“Mmm, yes. So I’ve been told. It must bother you that you had such a close relationship with her, close enough that she made you the executor of her will, and yet she didn’t leave you a damn thing.”

“She didn’t need to. And like you said, I’m not her family, so whatever she had wasn’t mine to claim. Where are you going with this, Bradley?”