So. Long.: Bad Boy Next Door Read Online Free Page A

the thought of
exactly who that girl is, and what she used to mean to me. Pat insists she’ll
never accept her, even if Matt marries her, because she can’t be trusted.
    My mind trips through hard memories, and I struggle to
swallow.
    Pat breaks into my thoughts. “James isn’t taking a friend.
It’s only going to be the three of us. We’ll keep an eye on her.”
    “You remember that Clarissa can’t swim, right?”
    A tisk-tisk comes through the phone. “Of course I know that.
She’s my granddaughter, silly. Don’t worry. We’ll watch out for her.”
    I bite my lip, glancing at Leigh.
    Her eyebrows rise in question.
    I mouth water park to her.
    She immediately gives me a thumbs-up with a giant smile and
a nod.
    I push my mothering fears aside. “I guess it’s all right. Please,
watch her. She’ll wander off if you aren’t careful.”
    Pat chuckles. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure she comes home
in one piece.”
    I swipe my thumb across the screen.
    “You worry too much. Clarissa’s going to be fine—with or
without Matt. And you need to trust the people in your life to help you with
her.”
    An overwhelming mixture of loss, fear, and anxiety surge to
the back of my throat, tightening it. “It’s hard.”
    She leans in, her arm circling my shoulder and pulling me
close. “I know. But hey, look at the bright side—you have a hunky new neighbor
who’s willing to be your go-to get-laid guy.”
    I close my eyes, shaking my head at my friend’s one-track
mind. The image of Adam, shirtless and glistening with sweat, looms in my
memory, warming parts of me that, for far too long, have been left cold.

THREE

    The end of Chloe’s tail twitches, and she makes that weird
crackling sound as she sits on the windowsill watching the birds.
    An unexpected cool-front came in last night, and I opened
all the windows this morning to let the house air. It’s not often that it’s nice
enough in June to have nothing more than a screen between the inside and the
outside.
    Chloe discovered the birds a few minutes ago, settling in,
face pressed into the mesh as she poises to pounce.
    From my spot at the end of the sofa, I smooth my toes across
her spine. “Sorry, stinker. The screen protects you from getting your ass
kicked by a mockingbird.”
    I adjust my laptop and pull my focus to the almost blank
page. Still very few words. My publishing date is approaching fast, and I can’t
seem to find three words to string together. It’s like sludge is stuck in my
creative well.
    The waves swell beneath the ship as it carries me across
the seas. Arranged marriages should be illegal.
    The last person I want to wed is that insufferable Lord
my father thinks will make a good match. He’s a cad.
    A whine from the other side of the window draws my
attention.
    Chloe jumps to her tip-toes, back arched. Her fur stands on
end.
    A low whimper is followed by a loud bark.
    My kitten spits at the screen as though she’s protecting the
house from a dragon.
    Who’s dog is that?
    I lean forward.
    Another bark.
    A crash.
    What the fu—?
    Chloe scrambles from the sill to my legs, claws digging in
as she propels herself over my shoulder to the dining table.
    What on Earth?
    I reach for her, barely grazing the tip of her tail with my
fingers.
    A mass of muscle and fur throws itself into my lap, knocking
my computer to the floor.
    Holy shits.
    My heart thumps as a brown and white beast clambers to get
his feet under him while trampling my gut. Slobber smears my chest.
    Too bad that’s the first saliva I’ve had on my tits in
fuck-knows how long.
    Ew, and it’s slimy .
    A bark rings in my ear as the dog jumps over the sofa and onto
my table in pursuit.
    I jump from the couch, sprinting to the kitchen, where
mayhem reigns.
    The cat makes her way around the countertops as the wiggly-butted
boxer chases her from surface to surface.
    Canisters scatter and roll. Paper napkins flutter. And my
thawing hen slides across the counter like a