She blows a raspberry through the phone like we're still 11 and I chuckle. She hates olives. “See you in about half an hour, and hold the olives if you want my help,” she retorts before saying goodbye.
15 minutes later I’ve finished the loop around the neighborhood, and am almost back to my house. Brody stopped every 2 seconds to take in his new surroundings and smells. As I get to my driveway, I see a UPS truck pull up to the house next door. It's empty there because I think the people who live next door were in a driveway a few doors down when I was on my walk. The driver nimbly jumps out with a package to place it on the front porch, and I can't help but admire the way those brown pants make his ass look when he bends down. Men may be on my shit list right now, butI'm not dead. I try to go up my driveway quietly and without him noticing me checking him out. Just as he's turning to get back in his truck, my dog lets out a whine as he checks him out just as thoroughly as I am. His head whips toward me and...fantastic, he's caught me lingering to look at him. His gaze lands on Brody first, and though the top half of his face is slightly shadowed by his brown cap, I see a bright smile and dimples as he takes in my traitorous dog. Then I actually feel his eyes go to me and rake up my body before looking at me dead on. His smile goes wider as if he likes what he sees. Damn, I don't want him to like what he sees. There's no getting out of acknowledging him now, though.
“Just move in? I don't remember Carl being this pretty,” he rumbles in an amused deep baritone. I roll my eyes so hard it hurts, even though my stomach swoops at the sound of his voice.
“You try to pick up all the ladies on your route?” I ask, cocking a hip while I cross my arms.
“Only the ones who blatantly ogle my ass,” he throws back, his grin now blinding. I can't exactly deny it since he caught me, but no way is this conversation continuing to go down this road. So I ruefully shake my head with a self deprecating laugh.
“I’m sure I will be far from the last woman on your route to get caught checking you out, and you'll have a lot more luck with them. Is this your regular route?” Impossibly enough, his smile gets even bigger.
“Yep. Just picked it up a couple of months ago when my coworker moved away.”
“Well, since you're on this route, I guess I'll be seeing you around. I get a lot of deliveries.” I sigh and stick out my hand to him.
“I’m Lyra, this is Brody.”
“Taran,” he replies and gives my hand a firm shake. Then he makes his way toward his truck. “Hang on just a second, please,” he adds as he jumps in.
I'm impatient to go inside to order a massive amount of olive pizza for Gina, and get away from more embarrassment about checking him out, but my curiosity gets the better of me. He comes back out of his truck a moment later with what is unmistakably a dog treat held up.
“Can I give this to Brody? I make it a point to become friends with all the dogs on my route.” Ok, I melt just a little at that. Before my normally extra cautious brain can catch up with my mouth, I'm saying, “Sure. Brody, sit.” He's already sitting though, sniffing the treat on the air as it gets closer in Taran's hand. His tail is going a mile a minute, and he's looking at Taran like he hung the moon. Friendship already sealed, apparently. When he's right in front of us and presenting the treat to his new bff, I sneak a glance to try to see his features better under the cap. He's got cheekbones you could slice cheese on and the most warm, toffee colored eyes. I can just make out dark locks curling around his ears, and his shadow of stubble is not hiding his strong jaw in the least. He can't be taller than 5'11. The part that has me drawing up short though is that he's young. I must have roughly a decade on him. No way a man as gorgeous as him would want a soon to be officially divorced older woman. Brody is munching happily on the treat as Taran turns to me.
“He's a gorgeous dog. Thanks for letting me give him a treat.” I reach down and scratch behind his ear.
“He always deserves treats. I don't know what I'd do without him.” Crap, my mouth just keeps going without mysay so. Why am I revealing so much about myself to this stranger? I need to get it together.
“Anyway, nice meeting you Taran. I'm sure I'll see you around,” I say a little stiffly. He is completely unfazed by me turning somewhat cold, and gives me that wide grin again as he says, “I definitely will. Take care, Lyra. Brody, be good my friend.” I turn around and head into the house without even looking back to watch him leave, even though my heart is stupidly racing about him.
“SO,between work and the way you online shop, you'll be seeing Taran with the great ass a whole bunch,” Gina says, polishing off her pizza slice while we sit on boxes with a wicked gleam in her eye that I know well. We are opposites in appearance. She's tall, with nearly black straight hair, light olive skin, and the kindest brown eyes when she's not being mischievous like now. I'm barely 5 feet tall, with slightly darker olive skin, tightly curled hair that I dye deep purple, and green eyes that tend to run cold more often than not. I wanted her to commiserate with me being mortified that I got caught checking him out when I filled her in on our encounter, but now she seems dead set on talking me into hooking up with him.
“What does it matter? It's not like anything will happen. I have to be nearly 10 years older than him, and I have divorce baggage. He's just a flirt. A very gorgeous one, obviously, but he would never do more than flirt with me,” I reply. Her grin goes as wicked as the glint in her eye.
“Oh come on, it's a porn waiting to be written!” she says as if I'm the one being an idiot.
“Excuse me, Miss Lyra, I have a package for you,” shegoes on in her approximation of Taran's deep voice. “Oh, thank you, Taran. It's so big and heavy, would you help me get it inside?” she then says in a breathy imitation of me.
I nearly choke on the bite I just took, not knowing whether to laugh or throw pizza at her face. Her word play is on point, no doubt about that. Then her eyes widen a fraction as if she just thought of something brilliant, and she throws her head back to outright cackle.
“Nononono,” she manages to get out around her laughter, “you have to do the bend and snap for him. Works every time!” She doubles over cracking herself up, and I am fighting a losing battle not to crack up with her.
“As if I could ever do it as well as Jennifer Coolidge giving her UPS guy a broken nose,” I shoot back with a giggle.
“She's a freaking national treasure,” she agrees.
I sober for a second. “Babes, this is all in fun but I can't imagine being with another guy for a long time. I loved Derek for 9 years and it all just came crashing down around me.”
She sobers right up too and grabs my hand. “I know. I didn't mean anything by it. Mourn the relationship, swear off men for as long as you need.”
I squeeze her hand back and shake my head. “Anyway, you're fed now and writing porn about me and the young UPS guy, so it's time to get to work and get your filthy mind out of the gutter.” Like the adults we are, we then proceed to stick our tongues out at each other simultaneously and collapse into giggles.
We spend the next few hours going through boxes while also going through several bottles of pinot noir. When one of our favorite songs comes on through my phone, Gina squeals and puts down the pile of clothes shewas helping to put away in my closet. “We have to do our dance!” she yells, and immediately we break into the dance we made up way back in high school that we somehow never forget. Our hips are going to the latin beat, we're giggling like fools, and it's a great first memory to have in this house.
Last week I had a painting crew come through to put a fresh coat on everything, while the flooring was all in good shape already. This house needs to be a sanctuary for me, so I chose soft, soothing, blues, grays and creams for pretty much everything from the furniture to the walls and linens. The previous owners were in a hurry to close to move out of state for work, thank goodness. After Derek dropped his bomb, I looked at this and two other houses in that first week, put in an offer on this one, and had the deal done within 2 1/2 weeks.
Derek didn't kick me out, and said I could take my time to get situated, to be fair. I wanted out as soon as possible, though. In the coming weeks we'll be finalizing our divorce agreement, and I'll be signing the papers for him to buy me out of our house. No way could I still live with him when that was all going to be painful enough. I didn't bring too much here, just my personal items, my clothes, toiletries, home office supplies, and lots and lots of books. Most of my furniture will be delivered in the next day or so, I'm on my air mattress until then. I'm sure my back will be thrilled. My biggest project will be organizing my books in the spare bedroom that is closest to my bedroom, which I am making my home office. Reading has always been my escape, as well as my way to center myself, and I need it now more than ever.
The internet and WiFi was all set up the other day, so at least I can get my work computer up and running once I logback in on Monday. I guess the benefit of being a workaholic is that I had plenty of PTO to use and an understanding boss, giving me a week to get my life somewhat back in order. There is one other spare bedroom for actual guests with a hall bath, and then my room with an ensuite. Downstairs there is a well appointed, decent sized kitchen with an island, white and gray marbled quartz countertops with matching grey cabinets, and stainless steel appliances. That glorious kitchen flows into a breakfast nook and TV room. On either side of the front door there is a formal living room and dining room. Nothing feels too large or overwhelming, and I don't feel cramped either. The house I shared with Derek was basically a mansion, but this doesn't feel like a downgrade at all. It's a perfect house for me and I fell in love with it immediately.
