Rock Hard Neighbor Read online
Rock Hard Neighbor
A Single Dad Next Door Romance
CONTENTS
TITLE PAGE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
THE MOUNTAIN MANS SECOND CHANCE
HEART ON FIRE
BEST SELLER: TEACH ME DADDY
RYE HART SNEAK PEEKS
COPYRIGHT
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CHAPTER 1
Amanda
Fuck.
Get it together Amanda.
It was a cold winter day in New York and I stood barefoot on the distressed hardwood floors of my apartment. My hands trembled as I held the crisp white letter addressed to me. It was from my grandmother’s estate attorney.
My grandmother passed away from a long battle with pneumonia and left me her home. Months had passed since her funeral, and I was still dealing with the loss of the one person I’d loved most in the world. I referred to her as my sweet Gigi. While she relentlessly encouraged me to follow my dreams, I still felt guilty for moving hundreds of miles away for art school and the pursuit of an art career.
No amount of accomplishments compared to her unconditional love, or her famous Sunday morning buttery biscuits. God, those biscuits were pure heaven. Gigi must have packed them with crack or something wicked - they were that good.
The thought of owning the house I’d grown up in overwhelmed me with nostalgia and a longing to get back to the place I called home – beautiful North Carolina.
Maybe everything did happen for a reason.
Maybe my life had hit rock bottom because there was something better waiting for me. Could it be that Gigi wanted me to return to my roots?
Perhaps I was supposed to have a horrible relationship with the man I once called the one – so I could take a step back and grow into my own skin.
Or, maybe I was bat shit crazy!
There was only one way to find out – and I was convinced that North Carolina was that way. I had to at least give it go. I owed Gigi that much.
When my parents split, my mother relied heavily on her to help care for me. My father cheated on my mother multiple times, and then she fell into drugs and alcohol to cope with her troubles. To say that part of my childhood was a complete shit show would have been an understatement.
Gigi was my rock, my support, and my sole source of encouragement my entire teenage life. She even supported me through art school in New York City. She fought for my dreams, harder than anyone ever had. She was my guardian angel.
I missed her so damn much it hurt. Now, I knew she was watching over me from a distance.
I just prayed I wouldn’t let her down.
***
So, you’re just going to leave without a word?
Groaning at the text message from my ex, Daryl, I tossed my phone onto the airplane tray in front of me. I was on my flight to North Carolina, and he wouldn’t stop messaging me. Leave without a word? I broke up with him over a month ago.
Daryl was demeaning and cynical throughout our entire relationship – except of course the honey-moon period that lasted for just a few months after we met. He assumed he knew everything there was to know about the art world. He constantly told me to find something practical to do with my art degree; like teach or give lessons. Not once believing I could showcase my artwork in galleries – even though I proved him wrong a few times.
Struggling as an artist from the ground up took a great deal of work and mustering of courage and fighting my own self-doubts. Coupling all that with my Daryl’s insults made things a million times worse.
He didn’t believe in me. And I’d put up with his shit for way too long. After the break up, the man had the balls to accuse me of everything from cheating to using him for his money. He claimed my art was more important to me than him, and I had half a mind to tell him he was right.
My art never judged me or mocked me.
It never told me I wasn’t good enough. It didn’t make fun of me whenever I wore the wrong type of dress to a cocktail party, and it sure as hell never told me my dreams were invalid.
Of course my art was more important than him. Because Daryl was a dick.
When are you coming back?
What part of breaking up did he not understand? He was out of his mind if he thought I was going to come back. Not after all the fights and all the digs and jabs I endured just to try and see the good in him. I gave him everything, until I had nothing more to give.
After everything I gave you, the least you could do is answer me.
I picked up my phone and opened the messenger. I poised my fingers to fly across the screen as my vision began to turn red. I crafted response after response of hurtful accusations in my head, debating on which one to send him that would shut him up for good.
But I knew that wasn’t the answer. I didn’t want to bring more pain into an already fucked up situation. The plain fact was we weren’t right for each other. I was going to take the high road now and cut my losses.
Settling on a message for my ex, my fingers worked. I kept it short and sweet, telling him that we both needed to accept the reality of the situation. We had our chance, and now it was time for us to go our separate ways and that I wished him the best. No grudges. No hard feelings.
Then I sent the message and turned off my phone so I could enjoy the rest of the flight. I needed time to think.
While I had some success with my art in New York, I hadn’t reached the potential I knew I had inside of me. I was told my work wasn’t modern enough or sharp enough for the audience that the city attracted. Some galleries suggested that I should try going to the Midwest or even down south.
What the hell did that even mean?
My grandmother’s death chipped away at my soul, but it dropped the one thing I needed in my lap more than anything else. Whenever I was at her cabin, I always felt safe, blanketed from a harsh world that could swallow me whole. I’d fought my entire life to keep two feet on the ground instead of allowing myself to become a victim.
When my grandmother’s lawyer sent me the letter notifying me the house was mine, it couldn’t have been better timing. Gigi always had a way of saying and doing things that were necessary at the moment they were needed most. I had no idea the adventure I was setting myself on by moving going back to North Carolina, but part of me understood I had no choice. I was excited about this new chapter ahead.
With that said, I was also scared shitless.
The plane landed at Asheville Regional, and I had just enough money to pick up a rental car. It was a compact car and would struggle over the mountainous terrain of my home town, but it was all I could afford. I shoved my suitcases into the car, stuffing it to the brim, then reached for my phone to turn it back on. Besides the bombardment of text messages from my ex, I saw I also had a few missed calls from my best fri
end. I smiled and dialed the phone.
“Hello beautiful.”
“Manda! Thank the earth. Have you landed?”
“Yep. Getting into my rental car now and heading to the cabin.”
“How was the flight?” she asked.
“Besides the endless texts from Daryl, it went smoothly.”
“Daryl? The fuck was he messaging you for?”
“He was offended that I left without saying anything to him.”
“You said all you had to a month ago.”
“I know, but apparently it wasn’t enough. I kept my response short and sweet, and I shut my phone off after I sent the message,” I said.
“Oh, I bet he loved that. The control freak who has no control.”
“Yep.”
“What are your plans for the day?” she asked. “And what does this cabin look like anyway?”
“I mean, it’s a cabin,” I said. “So it looks like a cabin.”
“Don’t be a smartass,” she said. “Give me the details. Is it well-kept? Clean? Was your grandmother a hoarder?”
“No, she wasn’t,” I said, giggling. “I don’t really have any plans other than to get to the cabin and take a look at it. But I know my Gigi. That woman hated change. It probably looks the same as it did the day I left for college.”
“Did she keep it tidy, though?” she asked.
“Yep.”
“Then hopefully that means it’s still been kept up despite her nursing home stay.”
“Let’s hope so,” I said.
“Did the attorney send you any pictures of it?” she asked.
“A few. Mostly of the outside and the yard. From the few pictures I was given, though, it looks to be in okay shape.”
“Define okay.”
“I mean, the grass was a bit long in the pictures and gravel rocks from the driveway are scattered places, but the outside looks fine,” I said.
“What about the other pictures?” she asked.
“There were two of the inside. One was of the living room, which looked bare but fine. The other was of her room, which looked pretty dark and dusty.”
“Just like your crotch lately,” she said, giggling.
“Haha, very funny. Either way, as long as I can settle in it I’ll be okay. I can clean it up and mow the lawn, that’s not the issue. I don’t have the money for a motel or anything.”
“If you need the money, you know I’ve got you.”
“Thanks, Sarah. But I promise I’m okay,” I said.
“Well, don’t hesitate to ask. You know I’m only a phone call away.”
“I do,” I said. “Thanks.”
“Don’t let that asshole Daryl get to you, and stay safe. Where are you now that you’re driving?”
“Winding up the mountain, actually. The cabin should come into view any—”
I rounded the last bend in the mountain before my grandmother’s house came into view. I felt the breath leave my lungs as I pulled the rental car into the sparse gravel driveway. The pictures had been misleading at best and must’ve been taken when the light was just right.
Because this place was a wreck.
“Amanda? What’s wrong?”
“Uh, nothing,” I said. “Just memories,” I mumbled.
What the hell happened to my grandmother’s home?
“Are you sure?” Sarah asked.
“Positive. It’s all a bit much.”
“Okay. Because you sound worried,” she said.
“Well, you don’t worry about me. I’m going to see you in a few days, right? You’re still coming out?”
“Of course. I’ll be driving, though. I can’t afford to haul all this art stuff of yours onto an airplane.”
“You’re the best, you know that right?” I asked.
“Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”
I shut off the car and got out before I approached the porch. The wood was splintering, and the facade of the house was faded. There was a cracked window that gazed into the living room, and it was easy to see how much dust had accumulated over the years.
It was like no one fucking touched the house after my grandmother went to the nursing home.
“I’m sure,” I said. “I only need some time to breathe and get settled.”
“So you can stay there?” Sarah asked.
“Yep,” I said. “I can. I’ll take some time to tidy up, and I’ll call you back.”
“You can shoot me a text if you want. I want to keep tabs on you. I still don’t know why you insisted on me coming out a few days after you, so I want to make sure you’re okay through all this.”
“I’m strong. I’ll be okay,” I said.
“I know you’re strong. But even strong people have their weak moments.”
“Thanks, Oprah. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Call or text soon. Otherwise, you might find me on your doorstep sooner than you expected.”
“Love you, Sarah.”
“Love you, too, Manda.”
I ended the call - then proceeded to blurt out every curse word known to man.
CHAPTER 2
Brian
I could do this shit all day.
Chop!
The ax felt solid in my hands as I brought it down onto a stump of wood. The methodical movements always calmed my mind. The wood splintered, and the ax stopped. The sounds of nature yielding to my strength made me feel powerful and strong in a world that had taken everything from me.
Chop!
The sun was bearing down on my back as the sounds of my niece drifted from the house. She and the nanny were running around, burning energy like a camp fire with driest of woods. Those were the only two sounds that could calm me, the sound of nature, and the sound of Lanie.
They gave me solace in a world where peace and harmony were a myth.
Chop!
Shoving the wood off to the side, I pulled a rag from my pocket. I’d been chopping wood for the past two hours, and I could drops of sweat running down my back. My muscles ached, and my body was roasting in the sun, even as the air around me dropped to a cool forty degrees. The mountains of North Carolina had fickle weather, and while its winters weren’t harsh, the temperatures at night easily plummeted to below ten degrees.
And we used our last supply of wood last night to burn for heat.
I heaved another stump of wood onto the bench before I heard something off in the distance. Out here, it was mostly the rustling of trees and the chirping of birds. Unless it was the nanny coming up the driveway to tend to Lanie, there were no other man-made sounds. No heavy machinery, no cars buzzing by. No ambulances with their sirens and no children laughing as they got off school buses.
The sudden sound of a car off in the distance caught my attention.
I shared this face of the mountain with another home, but it hadn’t been occupied in at least four years. I leaned against my ax as I listened to the noise of the car on the road, hoping the vehicle wouldn’t come any farther.
I hated meeting new people.
I purchased this cabin, assuming the house down the road would remain abandoned. That last thing I wanted was neighbors who felt the need to be friendly.
Whisking Lanie away to this secluded paradise was the best damn thing I could’ve done for both of us.
The sound of the car shut off, and I went back to chopping wood. I didn’t care who was coming to tend to the house. After being abandoned for so many years, it probably needed a lot of work. I checked up on it every now and again, seeing if there was a “for sale” sign in the yard. If anything, I thought I could purchase it so no one else could live up here alongside us.
I never saw a “for sale” sign, so I figured the house had been abandoned, left behind by someone with no family while it rotted away on its foundation. The wood desperately needed to be treated and some of it probably needed to be replaced altogether. No matter the condition of the house, however, I hoped the person pulling up to it was the type to keep to t
hemselves.
I wasn’t a hospitable person, nor was I willing to expose Lanie to some stranger.
I sliced stump after stump, knocking them off to the side. I was quickly building a stash that would last us for the rest of the winter. I had to start thinking about dinner since the nanny couldn’t stay late tonight, and I groaned just thinking about it. If my calculations were correct, I was due for a grocery trip within the next two days.
Which meant going into town and dealing with people. Shit.
“Aaaahhhh!”
The shrill shrieking sound of a woman’s voice pierced the air, and I whipped my head around to see who it was. The ax dropped from my hand as Lanie ran out onto the porch, the nanny on her heels as she swooped her up. The scream happened again, but this time it was more frantic, so I turned around to the two on the porch and held out my hand.
“Stay here,” I said.
I took off down the road and followed the path to the noise. It led me right up to the neglected home, the front door hanging open on its rusted hinges. I leaped onto the porch and barreled into the house, choking on the dust that flew into my face.
Through the dust, I was able to make out a woman who was stuck in the flight of stairs.
Her head whipped around to me and her eyes practically stopped me in my tracks. They were piercing green eyes and contrasted against her raven black hair. She was a sight for sore eyes. Even though she had a startled look on her face, I could see the stunning features of her face clear as day.
I strode over to the woman and took her in my arms, pulling her from the staircase and carrying her over to the couch.
She wrapped her arms around me, and I could feel her warmth; the way her luscious breasts pressed into my body and the way her curves sat against my muscles. It didn’t even occur to me that I still didn’t have my shirt on until I sat her on the couch, and her eyes lingered a little too long on my chest.
A dainty flush rose to her cheeks before she drew in a shuddering breath. Her skin was like porcelain, and her lips were glistening, drawing my eyes to them as my breath hitched in my throat.
“Thank you,” she said.
Even with the tears in her voice, it felt like silk against my ears.