Page 101 of Forced Proximity
“Tractor Supply,” she answered as she shifted from foot to foot in excitement. “What do you think?”
“I think that you’re going to have to find a place to put a nine-foot highland cow decorated in Christmas lights,” I mused. “But it’s kind of cool.”
“It’s so cool!” she corrected me. “I had some help with this one.”
“From who?”
“That’d be me,” Jasper grumbled from behind me. “Are those cookies?”
“Cookies?” Dru whipped around, looking everywhere for the cookies.
Except from this angle, Rudolph’s head was blocking the box.
“Yeah, I stopped and got some,” I said. “I also ordered a latte machine that should’ve come in. Did y’all see it?”
“I took it inside when I got here,” Jasper continued to grumble. “Am I done, Dru?”
“You are.” She smiled sweetly. “Take a cookie!”
Jasper took the entire box and walked into the house.
Obviously, his “am I done” meant “can I go inside and eat these cookies.”
“I like him a lot,” she whispered. “He’s extra grumpy today. Apparently his new neighbor is a real bitch.”
I scoffed. “He’ll eat all of them. Come on, let’s get in there.”
Then she took my hand and we walked hand in hand into the house.
Or we would have had a golf cart not pulled up before we could close the door.
“Mr. Reins,” a nasally voice called out. “May I speak to you a moment?”
“Go inside and make sure that he doesn’t eat everything,” I ordered. “I want one of the snickerdoodles.”
She took off like she was shot from a cannon yelling, “Don’t you dare eat all those, Jasper ‘Hush’ Madden!”
I snorted and closed the door on them, happy that they were getting along.
Jasper was a good guy.
His life was about to irrevocably change, and he had no clue.
I was thinking he could use a good few days, because shit was about to hit the fan for him.
“What can I help you with, Mr. Worth?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.
I pulled out my phone as the man walked up the length of my walk, stepping in my grass instead of using the concrete.
Asshole.
“Get off the grass,” I mumbled as I used my phone to hack into the HOA’s shit, via Mr. Worth’s personal phone.
Worth’s entire being was this stupid HOA.
He lived, breathed, and dreamed fucking people’s lives up.
I usually ignored it, because I didn’t care.
