he say boyfriend?
“He told me what happened,” the handsome man begins, flashing a broad grin my way. “And I have to say, he feels horrible. But I come bearing gifts in the hopes that this bottle of wine may get him out of the doghouse with you.” He lets out a small but sexy chortle with everything he’s just shared.
Of course these two beautiful men are off the market. Well, I guess it’s for the best. It would be a bad idea to get involved with a neighbor anyway.
2
Knox
Rowan had told me everything—how he’d snuck up on her without thinking, causing the beautiful neighbor to drop her bottle of wine. And all of this over those fucking luminarias. Not to mention, she’d been the one he scared away from the gallery just days ago.
There’s no use explaining this to my genius man. What he sometimes lacks in common sense, he makes up for it with an IQ of 169. He doesn’t understand people, and he’s always been this way—well before I fell in love with him. But, then again, it’s one of his best qualities. He’s honest to a fault and innocent as fuck.
When I got home, I’d pointed at the garage and handed him a broom because the door was still open. I took a chance by walking down into our wine cellar and grabbing one of the best bottles we have as a bit of a peace offering.
The young girl standing in front of me can’t be older than sixteen, and in her combat boots, torn jeans, and black eyeliner, I doubt she’s the beauty Rowan described earlier. “Hey there. I’m your new neighbor,” I offer.
The young girl stares at my face and lowers her gaze to the rest of my body before returning to my head. “Are you the one responsible for scaring the hell out of my sister?”
This explains a lot to me. The girl in front of me doesn’t look anywhere near the description Rowan vividly painted.
“No, that would be my sometimes dim-witted boyfriend. He means well, he really does.” I stop for a second to let her respond. When she doesn’t, I begin again, “By the way, I’m Knox, and you are?”
She gives me a bright smile, waving her hand to let me in. “Yeah, I’m Whitney. I’m Avery’s little sister.”
Avery. It’s a beautiful name, and leave it to Rowan to forget this little detail.
“Um, sure, I guess. And hell, you’re speaking her love language,” her sister says.
Good to know I’ll find favor with the stunning creature who captivated my man’s heart upon seeing her. I follow the little sister into the beautiful colonial house, the prettiest house on the block.
Rowan and I had been very envious when the estate went on the market three years after we bought the Tudor next door. Our home was our baby, though, and we wouldn’t give it up.
As I turn the corner from the foyer, housing an elegant chandelier with wainscoting three-fourths of the way up the wall, my eyes fall on the long and lean beauty sitting on the counter without a lick of furniture in the house. Her stare is on the bottle in my hand, but my stare is on her, all of her.
Her gaze swings to mine, and my man hasn’t been wrong about the beauty of this creature in front of me. In her pencil skirt, it’s not hard to see she’s rather tall, at least five feet, ten inches. And her mocha brown hair frames her olive complexion as the emeralds of her eyes glimmer from across the room. I could stand in the threshold of the kitchen like a creeper and watch her all day long. It’s been a long time since a woman has provoked a reaction like this from me. I love my man, and I’ll forever be faithful to him, but hell if this woman isn’t an unexpected delight.
“He told me what happened,” I pause for a second, imparting a smirk her way. “And I have to say, he feels horrible. But I come bearing gifts in the hopes that this bottle of wine may get him out of the doghouse with you.” I let out a nervous laugh because what the hell can I say?
She’s staring at me as though I’m speaking a foreign language. I wipe my face in case I have something on it. “By the way, I’m Knox Glacier, and the knucklehead out in your garage”—I point at her window when I catch