Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

KYLE

S unday night, I went to bed with high hopes. I truly felt that our truce for Saturday morning breakfast would continue into this week, making things easy-breezy for the next phase of work, given that Dani rode on my bike with her arms wrapped around me, leaning with me like we were dancing down the highway, and watched me load my bike up into the back of my now-free truck. I thought I'd made great progress with the snappy neighbor. Hell, I was even willing to admit that having such a beautiful woman on my bike felt good in a more than neighborly way.

But that was nothing more than wishful thinking, apparently, or more likely, hungover Dani.

Monday morning, Dani is back to hands-on-her-hips, short-tempered glares, and her lush mouth is pinched down to a tight little frown. Of course, that might have something to do with the huge flatbed truck currently parked at the curb, hanging halfway into ‘her' space.

I tried, I really did. But Kathy refused to let the truck sit in her driveway, no matter how many times I told her that this would affect the timeline and be one of those ‘issues' we wanted to avoid. After that conversation went nowhere fast, the driver told me my options were to refuse delivery or take it where I could get it, so they're unloading at the street and I've got all four of us shouldering and hauling stacks of steel rebar around the house and into the back yard.

It's ridiculous and is definitely going to warrant a more in-depth discussion with Kathy, but for this morning, I was stuck and out of alternatives unless I wanted to call it quits for the day. Unfortunately, that would ultimately punish me and the guys more than Kathy.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Dani shouts over the fence as Zeus and I come back around for our tenth trip. The rebar's in fifteen-foot lengths, which means we need to carry them in bundles of five to eight in order to not overload the guys, and that means trip after trip from the curb to the back yard. It's early, not yet hot, but I'm drenched in sweat, with a fresh river running down my spine every few seconds.

Waving Zeus on to keep working and grab the next load, I go over to Dani's fence and hold out my hands placatingly. "I know, and I'm sorry. I'm working as fast as I can to get the truck out of here before your early pickups start."

"Not good enough," she snaps, pointing at the truck. "Get that damn thing out of here!" She glances at her phone, checking the time the same way I've been doing for the last hour. It's gonna be close, real close. Her first customers usually come by around nine, and it's eight thirty already.

I nod and gesture to my guys, who're hauling ass despite the huge, heavy loads of rebar on their shoulders. "We've got to unload it. It's the only way I can get the truck moved, so let me get back to work. We're going as fast as we can." The repeated claim doesn't help. In fact, she narrows her eyes, measuring Wayne's pace, which has fallen behind Zeus and Frogger, but c'mon, the man is twice their age so he deserves some slack.

She doesn't stop me, but as I'm hustling with a new urgency in my movement, I hear her heavy sigh, with a muttered pendejo as I walk away. And I add two more bars to my load, which I can handle for now.

Yeah, whatever goodwill those pancakes bought me is long gone now. Poof! Disappearing into the ether, leaving only an angry Dani, who will likely be contemplating something much more painful than blocking my truck in overnight while she cooks today.

Despite my best efforts, pushing to the point that my lungs are burning from the rapid pace, we don't make it. At least not for Dani's morning pickups, but thankfully, the delivery truck is long gone when crews start lining up for lunch.

I let the guys take an extra-long break to make up for the unexpected, shouldn't have been that way, delivery and unloading this morning, which means we all get a front-row seat as Dani continues stomping across her yard, back and forth, with too-frequent glares toward Kathy's back yard and us.

Well, not really us . Those looks are most definitely intended for yours truly, alone. I can almost feel her cursing my name with each stomp of her foot. Kyle… fucking asshole… hate that fucker… Kyle. That last one is said with a full-blown, snarling growl I'm sure Dani's more than capable of.

At the end of the day, I send Wayne and the guys on their way, wanting to fix things with Dani without an audience because I'm pretty sure she's going to rip me a new one. Besides being too proud to let that happen— again —in front of the guys, there's a part of me that doesn't want them to see her treating me that way, however rightly earned, and make assumptions about Dani being bitchy or anything.

The last thing I need is them complaining about Kathy and Dani. One, I'll go along with. The other, I won't take kindly to. Call me a glutton for punishment, I guess, but I feel a kindred spirithood with Dani and her business, and I want to protect her, despite her repeatedly reminding me that she can handle things herself. Even if it's protecting her from me and my work for her neighbor.

I cross Kathy's yard, intending to hop the fence between her and Dani, but stop as I approach. There are a bunch of flowers trailing along the fence, fresh plantings it looks like, some bougainvillea, but mostly nasturtiums and mandevillas.

Must be the garden Kathy was talking about tending. And of course, the plants are practically hugging the property line to the very inch, giving her a ready and easy excuse for why she'd be hanging out, looking into Dani's yard for hours on end. Yeah, that fence is going to be good… for Dani's sake.

Not really giving a fuck whether it's a good idea or not, I grab a few handfuls of the brightly colored nasturtiums and mandevillas, pulling the vines down and turning them into an ad hoc bouquet. Instead of climbing the fence, I walk toward the front and U-turn around it to save the fistful of flowers. Knocking on Dani's door, I steel my spine for the incoming wrath of a pissed-off Dani Becerra.

I'm not disappointed, because when she answers, she nearly hits me with the screen door, and her dark eyes are practically shooting lasers which slam into my chest and burrow through me. Quickly, I hold the flowers up. "I'm sorry."

She drops her eyes to the offering, scoffing. "Did you steal flowers as a way of apologizing?" she demands, sounding offended rather than appreciative. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." I don't apologize, not for that. There's enough other shit I need to smooth over. Flowers? Not even on the top five list. "We're gonna rip them out when we redo the fence anyway, so someone might as well get some enjoyment out of them."

"Pretty sure Kathy did not intend for that to be me."

Despite her argument, she still takes the flowers, the tiniest hint of a smile teasing at the corner of her lips, though I'm not sure if that's because of the pretty blooms or because the theft will definitely piss off Kathy. Mostly, I'm encouraged that she doesn't immediately throw them on the ground and start stomping them into pink and purple sludge, which is a ridiculously low bar, but with Dani, I have to take a good sign where I can get one.

"And if she sends the police over here and this" —she holds the bouquet up— "is the proof that I trespassed, I'm going to put out a hit on you from my jail cell."

Damn, she's right. I hadn't thought that far ahead, and Kathy's petty enough to do something like that. But I honestly don't care what Kathy wants. Hell, after this morning, I'm once again halfway considering telling Kathy to fuck off and fuck this job. It's a good thought, even satisfying to imagine telling her she can shove her pool up her uptight ass.

But I can't do that mid-construction. It'd be a logistical and legal nightmare for me, and whatever crew Kathy finds to complete the work won't give a shit about what issues they cause Dani. They won't care like I do. "I'll take the heat. You have to admit, the flowers are pretty."

Dani looks at the bouquet in her hand like she's truly seeing it for the first time, and she smiles fully. It softens her entire face, making her seem sweet in a way she's usually not. She glances up at me through her thick, dark lashes and quietly confides, "The fact that they're stolen from Kathy kinda makes them even prettier. So, thanks."

Ah, there she is—the fiery girl. I don't know if Dani Becerra has a sweet bone in her entire body, but the spice in her is as addicting as cinnamon sugar on a frappe, which my niece introduced me to and got me hooked on because of course, she did.

And though it's the smallest concession, it feels like a huge win coming from Dani. I step inside the house, into the small living room at the front so that the screen door closes behind me. Just between the two of us, I say, "I'm truly sorry about this morning." Swallowing hard, I admit, "Kathy really fucked me over with the delivery truck, and I was doing my best to hurry."

It's a hard acknowledgement for me to make. I'm a pro at dealing with all sorts of people, having dealt with the worst of the worst from birth and continuing into my professional career, so admitting that Kathy Wilson is doing a number on me feels like I'm exposing a great weakness.

Honestly, it's not Kathy, though. If it were just her, I would've had the delivery truck drop their load at the curb and spent the day leisurely moving the rebar to the back, and if it screwed up her timeline, then so be it. Her choice, her consequences. So Kathy's not the real issue. Dani is. She's the one who had me hauling ass so I wouldn't cause her further trouble. She's the woman making this job harder than it has to be. Not because she's bitchy but because, for some unknown reason, I give a shit about the dark-eyed, dark-haired woman standing in front of me.

Dani doesn't know that, though. Nor would she care if she did. All she knows is that I've been fucking her over, making her life suck since the moment I arrived. Well, she can take a damn number because that's my standard modus operandi . It started the day I was born and hasn't changed since.

"Not good enough," she snarls, stepping in front of me and blocking me from further access to her house. "Do fucking more."

I'm not sure if she means the apology, the excuse, or both, but her words hit their target, destroying the fa?ade of charming, easy-going guy I've carefully cultivated to seem like I don't give a shit about anyone or anything.

Running my fingers through my hair in frustration, I explode. "Look, what the fuck do you want from me, Dani? You know better than most that Kathy's an absolute nightmare, hellbent on making everyone around her suffer. But we've got a contract so I've got to finish the job. I get that it's inconvenient, and I wish to fuck there was something more I could do, because believe me, I've tried with her, and I've spent way too much time racking my brain to come up with a fix for this shitshow. But there's nothing, so I guess you're going to have to deal with it for a few weeks."

I'm on a roll, a week's worth of gathered steam and anger bursting out as I unload all my annoyance with Kathy onto the one person who doesn't deserve it—Dani. She's probably put up with a fuck-ton more than I have living next door to Kathy Wilson, but all the aggravation pours out in ugly, sharp fury.

I can virtually see the hate-filled lava building up inside her core, and I think I'm ready for her to burst all over me. But I'm not, because as she replies, there's more than anger or hate in her voice. There's fear, and anguish, and bone-deep exhaustion. " Inconvenient ? Try financially catastrophic and physically overwhelming, Kyle! I'm hustling as fast as I can, nearly running myself to death to deliver lunches to the crews during the short period of time they get for their lunch breaks." She holds her thumb and finger up an inch apart like that's how long they get. "But it's not happening with you in the way! You know what is happening, though? I'm losing customers?—"

Under my breath, I snap, "You are not mad about Joshua."

"Not him. I've lost three other truckloads worth of orders this week because they can't make it through the clusterfuck out front and get back to their sites on time. They said they'll come back when you're done with that job and I get back to my usual delivery system, but who knows?" She throws her arms up, nearly flailing them around in exasperation. "By then, they might've gotten in the habit of stopping at the closest McDonald's or bringing sandwiches from home. Losing that much time has lost me money! Money that I need to survive another day. Don't you get that? Of course you don't," she scoffs, sneering at me like she has any idea what I possibly understand.

She's winded, her chest rising and falling too quickly as she reveals more of her situation than I think she intended to. But her admission hits me deep, and for the first time, I truly feel like shit.

I didn't know that. I didn't know any of that. Which only makes me angrier.

I knew I was bothering Dani, but I hadn't really thought something as simple as my parking would affect her business that much. Mad at myself and my inability to fix this problem, I lash out. "You are such a bitch, you know that?"

I'm disappointed in myself even as the words leave my mouth. I'm not carelessly rude to women, despite Dani's likely thoughts on the matter. And I certainly don't resort to high-school insults when my wittle feelings get hurt. And if anyone deserves to be on the receiving end of being called a bitch, it's the woman living next door. Not Dani.

But something about Dani sets me on edge, a razor-sharp one that's ripping me open and revealing darker tendencies than I thought I possessed. She doesn't look shocked or even surprised at my crassness. It's as though she expected it. She crosses her arms over her chest and retorts, "Been called worse by better. You're nothing more than a pretty asshole who shows up to give fancy people fancier shit. Do my bidding, pool boy." She wiggles her fingers as if my clients treat me like a puppet on their string while bossing me around.

" Do… your… bidding ?" I sputter. "You wish."

She lifts her chin, and I smirk, realizing that if I told her exactly how haughty she looks right now, she'd be more pissed about that than being called a bitch. Stepping into her, I back her up. She refuses to lean against the door, but I plant one palm above her head on the painted surface. She reflexively looks up at me, defiance in her eyes.

"Is that what you wish, Dani? You want to tell me what to do? Is that why you're watching me, taking pictures of me?" I pause, waiting to see if she denies it, but she clamps her lips together tighter as if she's biting back the denial. "Because despite all the fire you spit at me, you want me? Want to touch me, and want me to touch you."

Her breath catches. Because I'm wrong? No, it's because I'm right. I know I am because she won't meet my gaze, and Dani's someone who stands behind her words.

I lower my voice to a seductive, gentle purr as I rumble toward her ear, "You're up before dawn, work your ass off all day, and fall into bed at night. You don't take care of yourself, especially not your most basic of needs, I bet." She sighs the tiniest, sexiest sigh, so I keep going. "You've got a tight, lonely pussy that gets hot, wet, and hungry, but you don't do anything about it, do you? But I can, Dani. Is that what you want?"

I'm not sure I even like Dani, but I'm completely serious at this moment. In fact, my dick is rock hard and ready for more at even the thought of touching her. I wonder if her fieriness extends to the bedroom—or living room, as the case may be right now.

Her eyes are jumping from mine to my mouth, like she's watching me say filthy things but wants to see into my mind while I say them. She's thinking about it. I can feel a battle waging inside her, and thinking I've won, I lean down to capture her lips in a kiss.

She tastes like spice and smoke from the grill, and something deeper. Probably bad decisions and things I'll regret, but I don't let that stop me, and she doesn't argue for once.

Getting used to the idea and liking the challenge she presents, I press my lips more firmly against hers as I pin her to the door, her body giving way to mine. My tongue invades her mouth, and she meets me, our kiss turning hotter, deeper, and more intense by the second. Her lush lips are softer than silk, and as we share breath, I can feel her yearning for more.

I run my free hand down her body to her hip, tempted to cup a breast along the way but wanting no space between us. The feel of her beneath my palm ignites my desire even more, and my cock pulses in my jeans as I squeeze her ass.

She moans deeply, but just as suddenly, she gasps and pushes at me, demanding space. Her hands are flat on my chest, and as she pushes, her fingers touch my nipples, teasing my piercings. She jerks away from the barbells beneath my shirt like they've scalded her.

She really likes those, I think to myself cockily. I wonder if…

But then I see the look on her face. Dani is furious. I've seen her mad, angry, annoyed, and several phases in between, but this is different.

"Get the fuck out of my house," she spits out through clenched teeth. Her cheeks are flushed, her hands are curled in front of her chest, and she's shifting her hips like her pussy is demanding care. She can deny it, and probably would if I asked, but she's as turned on as I am.

"You want to do it outside? Kinky," I say as I back off, giving her even more space while I act like her order is a joke. I'm returning to default mode, using humor to deflect everything because I don't know why she's gone from hot to furious in a blink. Her eyes narrow. "Huh. Usually, girls don't regret me till the morning after."

That's unfortunately the truth. I'm good for a one-night stand, a fun story they'll tell the girls over mimosas— the bad boy they tamed . But usually, I at least get a fuck out of the deal.

Not with Dani, though I shouldn't be surprised. She's not like other women. She's not like anyone, I don't think.

"You're an asshole, you know that?"

I chuckle. "Been called worse." I don't add the ‘by better' part of her earlier statement. "A few orgasms might help you chill out, though," I add helpfully. "What do you say, two? Or three?" I hold up my fingers like we're negotiating. "More?"

She barks out a humorless laugh. "I know you're not offering that particular service. You probably couldn't make me come even with live, play-by-play instructions on how to hit it just right."

It's not the insult to my sexual prowess that has me fired up. It's the idea of Dani coming hard as her eyes flutter closed and sweet sounds of pleasure pass her open lips.

"Start counting," I vow darkly.

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, right. There's nobody on the planet who can do that to me."

I shrug, trying to get us back to where we were when she was kissing me. "Offer stands. I'm a good listener, a fast learner, and a better doer."

In answer, she pushes the screen door open, inviting me to leave.

"Alright, don't gotta tell me twice," I say, stepping through the door to the tiny porch. But I glance back over my shoulder. "See ya tomorrow, Dani."

She might not want to want me, but she sure as fuck kissed me back, and that's a damn good sign as far as I'm concerned.

Leaving her house, I stride across her yard to my truck, which is parked in front of Kathy's driveway because of this morning's delivery. I'm only halfway there when I hear Dani's door slam behind me. For some reason, the sound makes me smile.