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Yeah, like this woman's man is going to be alright with me just dropping in and asking for a bowl of sugar from a little thing like her. If I was her man I would keep that shit under lock and key. There would be no taking out the trash at eight at night, especially not in the tiny as fuck shorts she had on and the thin tank that barely covered her tits.
I go back inside and try to put my perky neighbor out of my mind. I have too much shit going on to worry about what kind of husband my neighbor has. For one, I should be focused on security. It's not a huge house so keeping it safe shouldn't be too big a deal.
I walk in and my eyes automatically go to all of the critical places that need shoring up. It's an occupational hazard. I may have been trained as a medic but I'm a soldier first. I spend half the night trying to pretend the encounter with my neighbor didn't shake me the way it did.
And why the hell should it anyway? Living here is a little bit like being a wolf decked out in sheep's clothing. This street, these people, they have rhythms and rules. I come from a world that doesn't always have those things in it. When you've had your hands inside of your buddy's chest trying to stop the bleeding from a shrapnel explosion things can't really be 'normal' again. Still, I can try.
And trying means leaving the neighbor girl alone. And that gets me through the night...and most of the day after. Until I hear her voice carry across the divide between our houses. She doesn't have her window closed so I can overhear her conversation.
My first thought is how lax her sense of security is. Has she never seen a single episode from the ID channel? I mean, come on! Everyone knows criminals and bad people see open windows as an open invitation to come on in. 'Sitting duck, ready and waiting for whatever you want to do to me'.
"Mommy loves you. Mommy loves her little man."
The words hit me like a punch in the gut. It's so...startling that I stop what I am doing and just sit listening. Clearly, my new little neighbor is a mother. Either that or she has a hell of a kink going on with her boyfriend. I guess I should have known. If I was with her, I would knock her little ass up so everyone would know she belonged to me and keep her that way. This also answers why her tits are so large on her small frame...breastfeeding will do that to a woman.
God damn it! The thought has me rearranging the growing bulge in my jeans. Damn it, this is going to be nothing but a complication. I return to work mounting the cameras I'm putting up and try to get my mind off the perky woman living next door. The mother next door.
Is her husband away? Hell, is he a soldier? Does she have a thing for soldiers and that's why she was so nice to me? Who is my neighbor and why does she have to be so...interesting? Why does my mind keep betraying me and going back to her? I'll have to curb my curiosity by diving into her history and finding out what I can.
Not that it's just her I'll be checking out. I plan to check out everyone who lives nearby. Occupational hazard I suppose, but one that's kept my ass alive longer than I should have been.
I accomplish staying away from her for two whole days, not really thinking about the woman living so close to me. There’s a lot of shit that needs to be done when you move into a new house. Boxes have to be unpacked, cameras have to be installed, and God knows the 'security' that needs to be put set up - trap doors, trip wires, it can all get quite tedious.
Then I hear her through her window again. The night is thick and hot and I have no idea how this woman is staying cool with her freakin window open. Does she not have an air conditioner? I don't even need to ask since I already know she does. I can see it out my upstairs window in her backyard.
But still, this woman has her window cracked. Enough that I can hear her voice, light and soft coming from a room in her house, "Oh Jack, I wish I could find the kind of love mommy writes about in her books."
What now? She ends her statement with a heavy sigh. I find myself straining my ears to hear what she says next when moments before I was annoyed she had her fucking window open again.
"But until then at least I have my little baby boy." She keeps talking and cooing to the baby.
I sit in my office chair stunned. Someone left this woman? With a baby? My emotions are all over the place. I find myself smiling because I don't have to worry about a husband being with her. Hell, if what she is saying is true I don't even have to worry about a god damn boyfriend. And what the hell is going on in this town? Are all the people here legally blind morons? Who would leave a woman like her? After knocking her up? She's fucking gorgeous with curves for days. And she has a smile that brings the sun.
Then reality hits me - I shouldn't be around a young mother with a baby! What am I thinking? Half my team has had attempts made on their lives. As much as I would like to step in and be...what was the kid's name...Jack? As much as I would like to step up and be Jack's daddy, there’s no way I can. It’s simply not meant to be. I was right the first time. This whole getting involved with the neighbor thing is only going to lead to problems. Problems I have enough of, it's solutions that I’m running short of.
I step away from the window and close it firmly. If I want this woman and her child to be safe and happy, I’ll need to keep far away from her. What kind of man would she need anyway? Someone strong but calm. She might be bouncy and peppy but to keep her that way it would take a big man to keep the world at bay. Someone who can fend off the negative out in the world before it ever hits her sweet eyes.
Someone older who can truly take care of her. Young men don't understand how to appreciate the women in their beds. An older man would take his time, nurture the softness inside of her so she never grows cold and callous to the rest of the world. An older man can help teach her things that a woman like her probably doesn't understand or knows she likes. She would do well with someone...like me!
I turn away pissed again as the light in her office goes out. I can look down into it when I stand in my office. Her office looks like the kind of room it should be for a romance writer - pictures of faraway places, couples kissing and hugging as they roll in the sand, statues of lovers clasped together.
My temper flares at the very idea that I can't have her. I need to remember who I am and where I am. I might look like I fit in this safe, soft world of hers but that’s a place I can never truly go - not after the shit I've seen, the things I've done...all in the name of our country.
3
____________
Carson
I spot my hulky - and hunky - neighbor as I pull in. He's working on something in his garage. It looks like a motorcycle. I step out of my car only just remembering that I'm in a fucking dress. And heels. Shit!
Don't fall or trip, don't fall or trip, don't fall or trip. Last month I took a dive in an outfit I thought was cute as fuck but clearly, it wasn't operational - at least not on me. I slap on a smile and walk cautiously over to the side of the driveway where our lots are separated by a thin strip of grass.
"Hi! How's it going, neighbor? How are you settling in?"
And shut your mouth. Give him time to reply, Carson. He just gives me a grunt.
"Whacha doing?" he stops whatever it is he's working on and turns to me fully but doesn't stand up.
