Page 3 of Trapped With My Stalker

“We’re all neighbors in Temptation, boy. Have you forgotten?”

“I don’t think I remember meeting her before.”

“You were gone before she even moved in with her grandparents.” Well, that’s a good thing because she was a little too young for me back then, but now…

Chapter Two

Georgia

“Any news on the man visiting Mrs. Barrymore?” I asked Chet while we ate lunch together.

“No, I didn’t know a man was visiting her. What makes you think there’s someone there?” His brows scrunched together in confusion. I felt the same way because no one ever sees Mrs. Barrymore with any guests unless it’s someone we know. Although she does hint at a famous grandson. Not that I would know because I hardly have time for those things, and if I do find leisure time, my nose is stuck in a book.

“I saw him in her garage nearly a week ago, and then I saw him in town twice.” The man was a gorgeous specimen. Although Chet’s handsome, too, so that doesn’t tell me anything about the guy. He was about the same height, but instead of blond, he had medium brown hair and a surfer’s build.

“Really? Are you sure it wasn’t someone doing some maintenance on her property?”

“Maybe I’ll stop by and check on her to see if she’s doing fine.”

“You’re not going over there if there’s some guy on her property,” Chet insists. Now is the time he wants to act like the protective and jealous boyfriend. I hardly have his attention now. Just before he was stuffing his face, he was on his phone, scrolling his social media.

I roll my eyes. “Whatever. I’m not in the mood for your crap. As it is, I’m in the middle of dealing with enough paperwork for a week.”

“So, are we on for tomorrow night?” Wow, no apology or anything.

“Yes,” I answer, my tone non-committal. Chet’s on my last nerve lately, and I wonder if our relationship has fizzled out. After two years and no sex, I think it’s time to call it a wash.

“Good. I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you later.” Of course, he doesn’t offer to help around here and take a load off my shoulders. Why I bothered to date him is beyond me. Two years together, and not an inch closer to sealing the deal. It’s like I’m going to die a virgin. At first, I thought it was my prudishness that made sex impossible, but he almost welcomed my standoffish behavior. I clean up our scraps from lunch and toss them in the trash before returning to work.

It took me three more hours to complete the books, and when I finally finished, my eyes were heavy. Turning off the lights, I slide on my purse and head out to my pickup truck. I’ll need it to drive to my house since I have more things to pick up in the morning. It feels like forever, but I finally make it to bed around ten-thirty, skipping lunch and dinner again for the third time this week.

Sleep takes over effortlessly, but as I dream, a man with wavy brown hair and caramel eyes appears. He steals my breath as his lips meet mine. “Don’t run from me, my beauty,” he utters, but I’m confused because I’d never run from him.

“Never.” Only I’m pulled away, and then the sound of my alarm startles me out of my sleep, away from my dream man. The guy who had been in Mrs. Barrymore’s garage. A man who wasn’t Chet Whitaker, my actual boyfriend.

“Bad Girl,” I chastise myself, shaking my curly, long red locks. Forcing myself out of bed, I shower and wonder why I dreamed of the complete stranger, and then I recall having the conversation with Chet. It’s understandable, so I brush it off and dismiss the dream.

Once I’m moving and ready to go, I drive on down to Sweet Temptations Coffee and stand in line for a hot coffee to get my day going. It will be a large one because I’ll be pulling another ten-hour day just to make it to my date with Chet tonight.

I’m almost at the front of the line when I feel a pair of eyes on me. It’s weird because this isn’t the first time that I’ve felt them, and the slight chill they give me isn’t a good one. When I turn, I spot Mrs. Barrymore’s guest out of the corner of my eye. He isn’t looking at me. In fact, he’s making every attempt to avoid not looking at me. Strange. I’m about to call him out on it, but then Stacy calls my name. “Georgia, the usual?”

“Yes, please. It’s going to be a busy day.”

“How about a double then on the house?”

“Just a single. I’m sure this one will get cold before I even get halfway through it, but thanks anyway.” I pay her, and we exchange a few more pleasantries before I walk away to wait for my coffee. Since it’s simple, it doesn’t take Simon long to hand it over while Stacy handles the next customer. Mr. Stalker is staring at his phone when I pass him by, and I want to call him out, but then I get the feeling of someone watching me again. He’s not the one…

Chapter Three

Stellan

After spending a week with my nana, I decided to give her a break. As much as she loves having me visit, the old woman loves her space. We’re one and the same. It was one thing when she had a husband, but now that my grandfather was gone, there was something she truly enjoyed about her solitude. I gave her a nice hug and took her rinsed-out gallon jug full of sweet tea with me as I checked into a bay side cabin. I planned to rent it out for a month.

When I checked in, I caught sight of the woman on the bike. She’d been in the back, but not once did she come out of the office. The only glimpse I got was the strands of her hair, and I wondered if my imagination was playing tricks on me. After all, I was thinking about her for the entire week. Everywhere I popped up, I swear I could have seen her, but only for a split second, and then she was gone. It was as if I just made her up in my head—a pure figment of my lonely mind.

“Mr. Barrymore, are you well?” the man at the front asks after watching my gaze. I wanted to deck him, but I had no right. Even though most of the acting was fake, my muscles and fighting skills were legitimate. I took several martial arts training programs to become proficient in them, and I boxed often to relieve the sexual tension in my body that I didn’t use.

I turn back to him, check his nametag, and then say, “Yes, Chet. I would like not to be disturbed unless I require something.”

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