Lunchtime Chronicles: Passion Fruit - Page 4

New neighbors?

Another car pulled up.

This must be the husband. She’s too sexy to be on her own.

The car was white. A woman climbed out. She had a dark chocolate complexion with a diamond piercing in each cheek. Her long black hair outlined her face and included a bang.

The boys spotted her from the porch. “Aunt Brandy!”

“Hey, little Devils!” She hugged them. “Where’s your mommy?”

“Inside.”

“Have you been helping?”

“No,” one of the boys said.

The other giggled.

Aunt Brandy frowned. “Make sure you help your mother. She works hard to write books so you can get cool toys and yummy food.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

My phone rang.

Continuing to watch the scene, I pulled it out and placed it on my ear. “Yeah?”

“What kind of way is that to answer your phone, man?” Shark asked.

“My way.”

“Freebird sent a new list of bail jumpers around. Did you get the email?”

“I didn’t see it.” I spotted a large white moving truck pulling up next door. “Anything good?”

“Lots of nasty guys at the top of the list.”

Two men hopped out the truck, lifted up the back, and began hauling furniture into the house. The two boys raced around the front yard.

“You hear me, Zain?”

“What?”

“There’s three top guys on the list.”

The woman left the house. Her ass jiggled under those pants. Next, she disappeared into the back of the truck.

Seconds later, she appeared from the back of the truck and struggled with a large painting. The damn thing had to be taller than her. A large elephant covered the front. His trunk lifted up.

Why don’t you let the moving guys do that?

Shark grabbed my attention. “Zain?”

“I heard you.” Smirking I watched her haul the painting forward, coming close to tripping. “Let me look at the list later.”

“What? You’re usually saying yes right at the start.”

I put my attention back on the woman. She was halfway to her house. The movers passed by her, offering no help.

Useless fucks. How much is she paying those guys?

She continued to struggle.

Where’s your husband?

Part of me wanted to go over and help her. The other part told me to mind my business. With a sexy woman like her, she surely had a man that would be on the way.

She disappeared into the house.

The moving men went back and forth with more furniture—bed frames, mattresses, a long dining table, and several chairs.

I went back to the phone call and realized Shark had been talking the whole time.

“What do you think of that plan, Zain?”

I cleared my throat. “Uh. . .I like it.”

“Like it? What the hell are you doing over there? Your dick usually gets hard off prospects like this.”

I grinned. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Listen, man. Check them out.”

“I will.”

“Peace.”

I hung up.

The woman headed back outside the house.

Now, sweat dripped down her neck and stained her shirt. Earlier, the white shirt had hugged her breasts. Now it clung to her body. She grabbed a box near the van. Her breasts bounced with the movement. Heat rose in my chest.

Mind your business. Her man will be here soon.

I left the window and put the phone in my pocket.

Twenty minutes passed.

Nosy as fuck, I grabbed my second beer from the fridge, opened my front door, and went out on the porch.

The moving truck was gone. The boys no longer ran around in the yard. The lights were on next door. I leaned forward, but couldn’t make anything out in the house. Only shadows moving beyond dark curtains.

I took another swig of the beer and checked the car in the driveway. It was the same metal catastrophe from earlier.

I don’t think she has a man. If she did, she wouldn’t be driving that.

And then I spotted an odd sculpture near it. A pink chubby being sat on a gold throne. It had an elephant head and four arms. One hand held an ax. The second gripped a whip. The third hand was raised in a sign of peace. Finally, the last hand presented a flower.

What is that supposed to be?

I leaned forward.

The movers or she must’ve forgot it. She’ll grab it soon.

I checked my watch and noted the time.

7:30.

Relaxing, I finished my beer, set the empty bottle on the porch, waited for a while, and then checked my watch again.

7:50. Is she going to get it or not? Maybe, it’s trash. More important. . .why do I care?

I tapped my finger against the chair and stood. I didn’t feel like putting on my shirt, but I did button the top of my pants.

Should I? Yeah. Fuck it. I’m intrigued.

Instead of going back into the house, I walked off the porch and headed over to the crazy statue. Up closer, the statue looked even wilder. And it was a heavy object, I lifted and carried the massive thing to the house.

There was no way she could have picked it up.

I’m being neighborly. I’m not just going over there to get a better look at her breasts.

Tags: Kenya Wright Romance
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