“Ah, yes.”
I felt somewhat disappointed; if he was the principal, that meant he'd be a good bit older than me. Most likely in his 40s or 50s. Not that I was interested or anything, but it might be nice to have someone close to my own age move in near me. I'd been in Irvine for two years now, but still only had a handful of friends, none of whom lived in my neighborhood.
“Well, I actually thought he was just a teacher until I spoke to him. He's so young for a principal,” Mrs. Dobbins said, rummaging around in her purse for something.
My interest was officially piqued again.
“Really? And just how old is he?” I asked, trying not to sound too interested. If I seemed too interested, Mrs. Dobbins would make it her mission to bake me a pie a week until she was satisfied we were either going to get married, or one of us was batting for the other team.
“He's only 32. Would you believe it, just 32 years old and already the principal of a high school?”
“That is surprising,” I remarked. “I guess he knows his stuff.”
“I guess he does. And like I said, he's a right handsome fella, too. And he seems like such a nice, polite young man. I'm more than happy to bake a nice blueberry pie if you'd like to take it over to him. And I promise that your secret will be safe with me. He'll never find out that it wasn't you who baked the pie!”
I laughed. “Maybe I'll take you up on that offer, Mrs. Dobbins, but not right away.”
The line had finally moved, and I was able to start loading my items up onto the checkout counter while the person in front of me was busy getting their total added up.
“Well, looks like I've gotta sort this out now, Mrs. Dobbins,” I said to her. “It's been nice chatting with you. I'll see you later, I imagine. I have some stuff to do in my yard.”
“And I'll be on the porch with Fluffy, enjoying a nice iced tea. Would you like me to make extra for you if you're going to be out in your yard in this heat? There's nothing like a good iced tea on a warm summer evening.”
“If you've got any to spare, I might take you up on that offer later,” I said with a smile. “Thanks, Mrs. Dobbins. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“I will, Vivienne, dear. See you later.”
The clerk turned to me as she passed the last of my items over the scanner.
Ten minutes later, I turned onto my street and slowed down as I neared my house. I saw, from a distance, someone in the front yard of the house across the street from mine – the house that had formerly belonged to the Sanch
ez family, the house Mrs. Dobbins and I had been talking about.
As I drew closer, my eyes widened as I got a clearer view of the man in the yard mowing the lawn. A mundane task, yeah, but he was doing it clad only in a pair of gym shorts and running shoes. I had to make myself look back at the road so I didn’t hit a neighbor’s mailbox. One thing was certain; he didn't look like any school principal I'd ever seen. I might have wanted to go to school if my principal had been blessed with an Adonis-like physique and surfer's tan. I couldn't take my eyes off my new neighbor. The man was ripped.
Mrs. Dobbins had not been exaggerating; he was ridiculously attractive with his strong jaw covered with a five o' clock shadow and stylish black hair that was just long enough my fingers were itching to run through it just looking at him from the road. It’s a good thing the speed limit in our neighborhood was only 10 miles per hour. Otherwise, my gawking would have been obvious.
I pulled into my driveway and parked the car, hoping that he hadn't noticed my staring when I had driven slowly past him. Thankfully, he seemed too absorbed in his task to notice, so I got out the car and took a few more good, long looks at him as inconspicuously as possible while unpacking my groceries.
Things around the neighborhood had just taken an intriguing turn. The really attractive man mowing the lawn shirtless just across the road from me was proof. Not that I wanted to get into anything, but I sure couldn't complain about the view.
Out of habit, I wondered if he was single. But someone that looked like him couldn't possibly be – not unless he was a player. Although, someone in a position of responsibility with such a public persona as a high school principal was probably unlikely to be a player. His job and reputation would depend on him not being one. Or at least being very good at keeping a low profile at it. But in a town like ours, someone would find out.
I shook my head and turned my focus to my groceries. “Doesn’t matter what he does in his free time, Vivienne,” I mumbled to myself. I was not ready to get into anything with a man, not yet, not after Simon. Just the thought of that man sent shivers of revulsion and disgust down my spine. It had been three years, and while I had mostly been able to put my life back together, some things just took time to fix. Longer than I would have ever imagined. So, no, I definitely wasn't ready to let another guy into my life, not in any sort of intimate way.
I carried my groceries inside and couldn't help but throw one last glance over my shoulder at the hot new neighbor as he pushed his mower around the lawn. He looked up just as I looked at him and our eyes met for a second. A jolt of embarrassment rippled through me, and a red heat flushed through my cheeks. He raised a hand and waved at me. I waved back awkwardly and hurried inside, closing the door quickly behind me.
I set my groceries down on the kitchen counter and let out a sigh of relief. That was close! He'd almost caught me ogling him. I started to unpack the eggs and almost dropped them when a knock at my door broke the silence. My heart practically jumped into my throat. I took a few steps back to the door, my heart pounding, and peered through the peephole. My jaw dropped. Standing there in all his shirtless, sweat-glistening glory was my new neighbor.
Chapter Two
Everett
Everybody can use a little distraction from the bullshit life throws at you from time to time. Doesn’t hurt if that distraction comes in the form of a blonde bombshell.
I had been wondering about the woman who lived across the street from me ever since the lady next door to her, sweet old Mrs. Dobbins, had come over and had a chat with me earlier in the afternoon. She seemed like a likable lady, even if she was a bit talkative. I hadn't even moved all of my boxes into my new house, let alone been able to unpack any of them, when I learn more about my new neighborhood in 20 minutes than I’d known about my old one in four years. The truth was, I had only been half-listening to her ramble on about everyone in the neighborhood until she mentioned that a beautiful 27-year-old lived across the street from me.
So, when I noticed a car coming up the street and saw an absolutely gorgeous woman in it, I had kind of hoped it was the woman Mrs. Dobbins had been talking about, although I figured with my luck, it'd just be some random person driving past who I'd never see again. Then again, maybe my luck wasn’t so bad. The car started slowing down and lo and, behold, she turned into the driveway right across from my house and parked her car.