Page 2 of Don't Fall For Your Grumpy Neighbor

I stare out my window, picturing what he’ll do when I yell at him. How he’ll look when I’m cursing him out.

His intense eyes get lodged in my brain, and I’m momentarily stunned just thinking about him.

Did I mention he’s handsome?

A very handsome jerk.

He’s on his porch, and I narrow my eyes on him through my window.

He’s large, a man’s man, and in charge. Muscles bulge behind his flannel, and his jeans fit him snugly. I’ve only seen him a handful of times, but from what I’ve seen, I can tell he works out. Or maybe he has a job that requires him to use his hands.

I wonder what the exact shade of his eyes are. I’ve only talked to him once, and he was rude and cold. Bitter about my Christmas lights last year shining into his bedroom window.

Karl told me to let it go. But I couldn’t stop obsessing over Shepherd and his complete lack of holiday cheer.

Fast forward to this year, and he’s completely the same. I don’t think the man even knows what a holiday is.

More leaves blow from his yard to mine, and it pisses me off even more. I’m going over there. Even if he’s sexy. And I haven’t had sex in a really long time.

Why did my mind even go there?

I shake my head, setting down my wine glass. I don’t need any more liquid courage. All it’s doing is turning me on as I stare down my sexy-as-sin neighbor who I can’t stand.

I shrug on my jacket, and stalk outside.

I’m going to give him a piece of my mind. He stole my Christmas decor. I’m over it. I’m over the leaves. I’m over his lack of cheer. And I’m over him flaunting his sexiness for me to see every day and night.

Who needs that?

Not me.

Chapter 2

Shepherd

People may call me a grump, and I should wear that name like a badge of honor. I should be proud of my grumpiness. It took me a while to master the art of being a grinch. Sure, I used to love the holidays.

All I want to do is sit on my porch, sip my bitter coffee, and be left alone. Can’t a guy just have a little peace once in a while. Guess not, because here she comes. My annoyingly-hot neighbor. Why does she have to look so good?

I stare at her a beat too long, picturing how I’d like to bend her over my porch railing and…

And she’s walking over.

Fuck.

Now I’m gonna have to make small talk about some neighborhood event I’ll inevitably decline to be a part of.

I sit in my chair. I’m gettin’ in a sip of this coffee before the madness begins. It’s my porch and I’ll do as I please. In hindsight, I realize that I should have met her halfway down the driveway to be polite. Whatever.

She’s waving at me. Ugh.

“Shepherd.” Her voice is all high-pitched and stereotypically feminine. It goes right along with the smile and the bouncy hair. I raise a hand at her with a tight-lipped smile. One more sip. I have time for one more before she gets up to the porch.

She’s looking around at my lawn, her brown eyes narrowing when she spots my garbage can. Oh, that’s why she’s here. Her damn decorations that shine so bright I can’t get any sleep are stashed in there.

“You stole my decorations.” She parks her hands on her curvy hips.

I’ve never noticed how pretty she is. “I did,” I say as a statement. Because I did, so what?