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Chapter One
Jeni Bishop was disturbingly familiar with the sounds her neighbor made during sex. To be clear, it wasn’t intentional on her part to be within earshot of the woman’s early morning amorous exploits.
Not at first anyway. But by this point, it was a matter of principle.
Jeni sat on her front porch, hands wrapped around a mug of steaming coffee, the wooden swing swaying lightly in the subtle breeze. Growing up on a farm, her day had begun before dawn for as long as she could remember, and the habit of rising early refused to be purged from her system.
That had been rough during college, but now that nights of staying out until two or three in the morning were few and far between, these quiet hours were her favorite part of the day. Or they had been, before she moved to Kansas City for a job opportunity exactly one month ago. If she’d known who she was moving in next to, she might have reconsidered this particular location. Or asked her landlord to waive the security deposit, at the very least.
Now, four weeks in, Jeni had come to expect her morning solitude to be interrupted at least twice a week. Last week it had been four.
Same guy, but still. Four.
Jeni didn’t mind that the lady was getting laid or even how often. It was the fact that she refused to keep it private, in a neighborhood where the houses were stacked nearly on top of each other. Also, because she seemed to require an open window to reach her big finale.
Didn’t most people get busy at night? Well, maybe she did that too, but it was evident she appreciated a certain kind of wake-up call.
“Yes.”
Jeni nodded along with the words of affirmation the woman was so generously offering.
“Ohhh…don’t stop.”
Yes, don’t stop. Just get it over with, already.Jeni took a sip of coffee.
A low, rhythmic thumping joined the feminine moans. A headboard, maybe?
Jeni sighed and wondered why the idea of sleeping with the window closed was such a distasteful notion to her beautiful, energetic, and probably limber next-door neighbor. If the double-paned glass was firmly latched, the entire neighborhood wouldn’t get an earful. As the closest neighbor, Jeni might still hear something, but it would hopefully be muffled to the point she might have assumed it to be a cat or a dying squirrel.
A woodpecker, maybe.
“Oh…”
Jeni circled a hand in the air in front of her, as if to say keep going. Almost there.
“Oh!”
Jeni very nearly set her cup down to clap but decided against it. All was silent now, just as she liked it.
Inhaling deeply, she closed her eyes and took in the fresh air. The late August morning was warm, but it wasn’t uncomfortably hot yet. Just as in her hometown in Nebraska, she wouldn’t be able to enjoy these mornings come winter, which was one reason she stubbornly refused to give up the ritual now, no matter how irritating her neighbor had become.
She spent several minutes in the quiet, thinking about nothing in particular. She’d had a good stretch of meditation before her neighbor burst onto the stage, and now Jeni just wanted to take advantage of the moments she had left before getting ready for work. As a social worker for Child Protective Services, there was no telling what she’d walk into today. While she harbored a deep passion for her job and couldn’t see herself doing anything else, it was far from easy and she’d learned the importance of balance early on. This house—the first place she’d ever called her own—was her safe place to relax and unwind.
She inhaled deeply, and her shoulders softened as she sipped her coffee.
A few minutes later, a screen door creaked open and slapped shut against the frame. Startled, Jeni snapped her head around.
A man stood on the porch of her neighbor’s house, head bent forward as he worked one of the buttons on his shirt.
Wow. He got out of there quick.
She hadn’t seen this guy before. The four-timer from last week had been large, dark, and sexy. Very Jason Momoa-ish. Irritating as the interruptions were, Jeni had given props to her neighbor, and this one wasn’t bad either. Wavy blond hair, tall but not excessively so, lean build. The stylish, leather sneakers he wore with his button-up shirt and jeans created a boyish quality. The men before him had worn pressed slacks and gleaming oxfords as they entered and exited the craftsman-style house, looking like high-level executives who had come straight from the downtown boardroom for a romp in the suburbs.
This guy wasn’t her neighbor’s typical style, and Jeni wondered what it was about him that made her bring him home.
The man looked up and to the left, his gaze landing on Jeni. She tensed momentarily, mildly embarrassed to be caught observing him. None of the previous men had noticed her. For a moment she was tempted to jerk her gaze away and act like she knew nothing. That she had no idea what and who he’d been doing just minutes before.
The man’s eyes darted to the open bedroom window, a mere eight feet from the edge of Jeni’s porch, and a slow, knowing smirk spread across his face.
