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Fuck me, she is hot.
“Hi, give me a moment,” I yell back to her as I try to pull myself together. I collect my tools, throwing them over before slowly lowering myself down the ladder to the ground. I turn and look at her and hear her gasp.
“Funeral guy,” she whispers out, eyes wide in surprise, before they leave my face and trail over my body. I then realize that I am without my shirt, and I have half my body on display.
I smirk and raise my eyebrow.
“I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting to see you,” she says quickly, blushing slightly at her words.
“It’s all right. I was going to come over later today to say hello, I noticed that you arrived yesterday. Your dad’s Jeep going okay for you?” I ask her, looking over her shoulder at the Jeep in question. It is a big car for a little woman, and although she seems to drive it okay, I want to make sure she is safe.
“Oh, it’s fine. I always like to drive it, so it is nice to have it for a while. But I am too small, so I need to find some running boards and put them on. Here, I made you these.” She thrusts a container of cookies at me, and I take it in my hands.
“Thanks?” I say hesitantly, because I don’t know anyone who has ever baked for me before. It just isn’t something that girls do these days. I didn’t think a young girl like Isabelle would be a baker. But I haven’t eaten all day, and they look fucking delicious. She looks fucking delicious.
“I bake.”
“You bake?”
“Yeah, I bake, like a lot, so I thought you and your family would like some.”
“My family?” I look at her, confused.
“Sorry, your wife and kids. You have such a big cabin that I figured you must have a big family.”
“No, darlin’. No family, just me.”
“Oh, okay. Well then, I made them for you,” she says, her smile widening, and I see her lips glisten in the sunlight. Damn, I want her lips on mine right now. I grip the container tighter to ensure I don’t do something stupid, like grab her ass and pull her to me.
“Well… I can see that you are busy, I will let you get back to it. I don’t want to interrupt, I just wanted to say hi.” She quickly starts to step backwards, looking over the extension and then back to me. She gives a little wave, then turns and walks back through the path, her perfect fucking ass swaying as she retreats, and I groan and rub my eyes, not sure how I am going to cope with her next door and not being able to touch her.
I pack up my tools, dust off my boots, and make my way inside. Stopping in the kitchen, I put the container of cookies on the bench. I lean on the bench looking at it, before I slowly peel away the lid. The smell is both immediate and intoxicating. Pure chocolate chip bliss. I inhale deeply, because I can’t remember the last time I ate a homemade chocolate chip cookie. Sure, my ma made them all the time when I was a kid, but I haven’t been home in a few years now, so it has been a long time between home cooked meals or treats.
I grab one and take a bite. They are fucking amazing. The chocolate chips melt in my mouth and the cookie is so fresh and tasty, still warm from the oven. These are the best damn cookies I think I have ever eaten. I shove two more in my mouth, then put them away before I eat the whole lot.
Fucking Isabelle. She is beautiful, sexy, smart, and talented. I have met a few nice women in my life, but there has never been a woman who I have thought may be right for me. But Isabelle, she is the whole package and also the one woman I just can’t have. I can’t make a move on her because she is my best friend's daughter. Not to mention, she is at least fifteen years younger than me. There are so many red flags when it comes to her, but like a bull in a Spanish bull fight, I want to run right through them and grab her and make her mine.
Groaning, I walk my stupid ass to the bathroom and turn on the shower. I blast it cold. I'm not sure a cold shower will stop my feelings, but a man has to try something.
11
Isabelle
Full of nervous energy, I get back to the safety of the cabin and close the door behind me. I lean against it and slide down until my butt hits the floor and my head falls back against the door, then I close my eyes. Taking deep breaths, I try to calm my nerves but have no luck, so I grab my cell and dial Kelly.
She picks up on the first ring, “Hey, babe, how’s the cabin?”
“He’s here!” I practically scream at her over the phone.
“Who’s where?”
“Funeral guy. He is here. He is my neighbor!” I pant out to her, suddenly hyperventilating.
“Holy hell, funeral guy is your neighbor?” she screams back to me. “Hang on, Beth’s here. I’m putting you on speaker.”
“What’s going on?” I hear Beth ask.
“Funeral guy is here in Hancock, he is my neighbor!” I pant out again. If I don't calm my breathing soon, I think I might actually have a small panic attack.
