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One of my friends, Cara, answers when I knock on Monroe’s door. I’m not surprised. She lives next door to him with my other good friend, Lila, but spends most of her time at Row’s place since they started dating. “Look who I found scrounging for scraps at the Burger Den.”
“Not again! We can’t figure out how he’s getting out of the back room. Get in here,” she sighs, petting him and tugging him inside. “Thanks for bringing him. I was just getting ready to head to your place. Today’s the day!”
“Everyone is so excited. Is Row coming?”
“Yeah, he’s on his way home. We’ll be there. That decrepit old fuck is going to be surprised to see everyone watching for him. Do you think he’ll show up in a limo or with a ton of security?”
“I honestly don’t know what to expect. I stepped inside that trailer a few days ago so I know there isn’t a lick of furniture in there and it smells like roach bombs and rotten potatoes. He’ll probably show up with movers. A self-centered prick like that is going to fix his own living quarters up first.”
She scoffs, grabbing Twist’s leash from the peg on the wall as Row pulls into the driveway. “He can try. You know the neighborhood is going to be at his door constantly.”
“That’s the plan.”
When we get to my place, my little living room is stuffed with neighbors. I guess everyone is too excited to wait for Freda to message them. Louise and Freda perch on the love seat where they have a good view of the street. Pops is at the kitchen table with his friends—known mostly to the neighbors as the golden guys because of their ages.
“Hey!” he exclaims when I hand him the strawberry shake. “Have I ever told you you’re my favorite grandchild?”
“Of course I am.”
I squeeze onto the couch between Lila and Cara. “You won’t believe how I embarrassed myself today.”
“I absolutely will, but let’s hear it,” Lila replies, snatching my chocolate shake and stealing a sip before handing it back to me.
Instead of explaining, I open the app and show the messages we exchanged. Both of them burst out laughing at the same time.
“And of course, it had to be a smoking hot guy.”
“No!” Lila grins at me. “Did you get his number?”
“No, I was too busy telling him not to eat yellow snow.”
My grumble is met with identical puzzled looks, but I don’t get a chance to elaborate. Freda gasps and grabs her phone as Louise calls out. “Someone just pulled into the driveway!”
“Showtime!” Cara squeals, and we flood outside.
A dark truck sits in trailer number eighteen’s driveway. It isn’t what I expected to see. “That can’t be him.”
“Maybe they’re turning around,” Lila says uncertainly, as more neighbors rush down the street to join us. They sit on my steps, lean against the porch, and loiter in the yard.
“No, whoever it is, they’re just sitting there. Should we go over?” Cara asks.
“It has out of state plates,” Row points out.
The door to the truck finally opens and it takes my brain a second to process what I’m seeing when he steps out.
It’s the sexy construction guy from the hotel.
He walks around to the rear of his truck, only giving a cursory glance at the crowd that’s now gaping at him. At least the women are.
“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Lila murmurs, ogling him. Nobody could blame her for not being able to pull her eyes away. Worn jeans hug his ass, and the fitted tee shirt promises a buffet of muscles underneath.
“What’s he doing there?” Row asks. “Wasn’t the owner supposed to come?”
“Who cares?” Cara breathes, then catches herself when Row raises an eyebrow at her. “I mean who cares who he is? We’re waiting for the owner.”
“Not anymore we aren’t.” He scoops her up over his shoulder and starts back toward his trailer.
The guy lets down the tailgate of his truck, then bends over to reach for something.
