Page 29 of Knocked Up By The Mountain Man

He laughs softly.

"You're gonna be a good father. Congratulations. When's she due?"

"I don't know," I say, realizing that I didn't get that far. We took off each other's clothes, and all of my millions of questions exited my brain as soon as I saw her bare skin and laid my hands on her curves.

He chuckles.

"Did you have something to say about Toby or what?" I say. "Otherwise, I need to get back to bed."

"Right, Toby. I contacted a friend in City Hall, and it seems like he's behind on his property taxes."

I groan.

"Man. I don't want to get him for property taxes,” I say. "You know it takes months to evict anybody. I need him gone now. I'm worried that if he stays in town, Alyssa's not going to want to stay in Wildwood. They might run into each other at the grocery store or some shit. It's a small world."

"Yeah, I know," Adam says. "Look, it's not just the property taxes. When we looked up the property taxes, we realized that the property isn't exactly his."

"What do you mean?" I say.

"We think he stole the house," Adam says.

"How the hell do you steal a house?" I ask.

"It's easier than you think. Lots of forged documents, stealing the identity of a dead person, things like that."

“Fuck,” I breathe. “That’s serious.”

“Uh huh. And it’s probably why he wasn't too happy to see your woman today on his porch," Adam continues. "She’s a piece of a past that he pretends he wasn’t a part of. She knows his real identity, and that spells trouble for him.”

He pauses.

"My guess is he looked up records of unclaimed property and dead people, found someone who matched his name, and assumed his identity. I've turned all the information into the police. They're conducting an investigation right away."

I exhale, leaning against the counter.

"Thank you, Adam," I say.

"No problem," he replies.

"Later."

He hangs up the phone without any formal goodbye.

That's our way. Looking out for one another, but without all the formalities and mushy-gushy shit involved in a traditional friendship.

I put the phone down and turn around, startled to see Alyssa standing in the doorway, with my quilt wrapped around her naked body.

She looks gorgeous, like some kind of goddess from heaven, like something out of a classical painting.

If a man was trying to depict perfect feminine beauty, if he was trying to describe a woman that he'd only met before in his dreams…he would paint a picture of her.

She frowns.

"Something wrong?"

"No," I say.

"What are you thinking?" she asks.