Page 2 of Rose and the Grouch Next Door

"I know, I’m so, so sorry. I can't apologize enough." Flustered, her cheeks are flushed pink from embarrassment. She steps closer to the pool's edge, her hand outstretched. "C'mon, Honeybun. Let's go home. Be a good boy, please." She’s pleading with him in her soft dulcet tone.

As I’m watching her attempting to get her stubborn canine out of the pool, I vividly see images playing in my mind of her begging me in the same tone. Her bluish-green eyes glancing up at me through her long lashes as she’s on her knees wanting me to do unspeakable things to that innocent mouth. Begging me to feed her my length until her eyes water and I explode all over her creamy breasts, marking her as mine.

Damn. Where didthatcome from? Uncomfortable at the dirty thoughts I’m having for my very young neighbor, I clear my throat loudly.

Honeybun paddles playfully towards her and just when he is about to reach her hand, he then veers off, splashing water in a wide arc. I'm soaked from head to toe in an instant, my white shirt dripping, and my lustful thoughts gone, replaced by my annoyance at her idiot dog.

"Make sure your dog understands this isn't a public pool," I growl, even though part of me, the part that's apparently a masochist, enjoys the forced interaction with my neighbor.

Thus far, I’ve successfully avoided having anything to do with her since I moved in next door. Instead, I’ve been content watching her from afar, like some creepy stalker.

I’ve heard her voice.Oh, have I heard her.I’ve listened to her speaking in that sweet drawl to her neighbors and to that damn dog, always sounding so perky. So happy. All the freakin’ time.

As a native New Yorker, I’m not accustomed to such sweetness. Her upbeat disposition is comforting, uplifting, and not annoying like some who fake the sunny attitude. No, Rose is genuine. Her voice is like a balm to my hardened soul and I could listen to it all day. Every day.

"Of course, Mr. Barrows," she stammers. “I really am sorry. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again,” she says, but we both know keeping him away is wishful thinking. Apparently, Honeybun has his morning swim schedule down pat.

"See that you do." I try to sound gruff, not letting on how much her nearness affects me, as she slowly inches into the pool, using the shallow steps in an attempt to grab Honeybun as he dodges her, thinking it’s playtime.

“He likes to roam around the neighborhood most of the time, but hereally, really lovesthe water. You should see him play in the surf. He’s so cute. Runnin’ in and out. Barkin’ at the waves…” She catches herself rambling and clears her throat. “But I guess he prefers a pool these days.” She’s once again pleading with him, "Comeon, Honeybun. You're being rude to Mr. Barrows. He’s going to think you have no manners, silly boy. You know better."

Her clothes cling to her skin as she wades into the water. Honeybun’s antics have made her shirt all but transparent, and I know there’s no way she’s wearing a bra. The thin t-shirt coupled with the slight morning breeze has made her nipples stand at attention. My gaze is drawn to her chest like a magnet. Those globes are so round, so tempting. I know her small breasts would fit perfectly in my large hands.

Gritting my teeth at the thought, I will my dick to stay put, so I can get a grip on my dirty thoughts for this sweet young girl.

“Alright, Honeybun,” she calls out, reaching into the pocket of those indecently short cutoffs, pulling out what look like jerky treats. The crinkle of the package is like a siren’s song, making the dog perk up mid paddle. “Come on, boy. Come to mommy. Who wants a treat?” She coos at the animal.

I watch, brow arched as if to say, “Thisis your grand plan?” Honeybun paddles closer, his antics forgotten when faced with the temptation of treats.

She continues to talk as she holds up a treat, making kissy faces at the animal. “He loves to visit people, too. Sometimes, I find him wandering down the road visiting the local stores and the bars by the harbor. People in Sea Shanty Cove love Honeybun. He doesn’t know a stranger and has the sweetest personality. He scores treats like a bandit on those days.”

Sweet personality, my ass.

“Aren’t there laws against letting your animal wander up and down the street, Miss Flowers? No one calls animal control?”

My statement isn’t funny, but she laughs, a beautiful tinkling sound that makes me want to repeat it again for the same effect.

“Never! Everyone loves him. Isn’t that right, baby?” she coos to him as she dangles the treat. “I mean, I’ve tried to keep him in my fence , but he always finds a way out. He just loves being social. It’s really too late to discipline him at this point. It’s just his daily routine.” She shrugs. “I mean, a leopard can’t change his stripes, right?’

I stare at her. “You mean his spots? A leopard can’t change hisspots.”

Still staring at her dog, she shrugs again. “Eh, tomato, potato.”

What the hell? Is she doing that on purpose?

Growling, I turn away, feeling heat creep up my neck that has nothing to do with the hot Mississippi sun. This isn’t what I signed on for when I moved to this sleepy town. I didn’t move here to become bewitched by some young, sweeter-than-honeyinnocent. I moved to focus on my craft, away from distractions, particularly of the female variety.

"Got him!" Rose finally exclaims triumphantly. I glance back to see her holding Honeybun's collar, leading him out of the pool. He’s following her, all innocence and puppy dog charm. Gazing at her with a soulful, brown gaze.

One wouldn’t know he had just stared me down like a mafioso hit man for daring to take away his swimming hole. I swear the fucker throws me a smirk as he walks past. He knows he won.

"Again, I'm really sorry about…" She cuts herself off, flustered and standing close. She barely comes to the middle of my chest, so vast is our height difference. For a moment, we just stare at each other, neither saying a word. Her wide-eyed innocent gaze studying me almost wistfully, as if she, too, feels the energy between us.

"Right." I give a cough, holding my fist up to my mouth to hide my sudden awkwardness and take a couple of steps back, dismissing whatever weird electricity just crackled between us. "See that you keep your dog on a leash, Miss Flowers." My voice is impersonal.

“Will do, Mr. Barrows. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. And, I'm really sorry.” Rose looks hurt by the tone of my voice. As she slips the leash onto Honeybun's collar and leads him away, I catch the look Honeybun throws my way. A promise that says he’ll be back.

Asshole.

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