“A date, huh?” Tony’s only half-listening to me. His eyebrows are taut as he concentrates on pouring batter into the non-stick cups built into the muffin pan.

“Yeah,” I say. “I’ve been on Tinder for months and this is the first decent-looking guy I’ve seen on there. It sucks living in a small town. All the good ones are already taken.”

“I know what you mean. When I met Greg, I was already resigned to a single life forever. Like, I was ready to adopt ten cats and just be the town’s crazy cat man,” Tony says as he blows away a few strands of blond hair falling into his dazzling blue eyes.

I have to laugh. I can’t imagine Tony as a lonely single man-spinster. He seems to have the perfect little family, with his husband and two little toddlers. Plus, he’s way too attractive to stay single. If he weren’t gay, I’d be all over him myself.

I stick my batter-covered finger into my mouth. I don’t care if it’s not the most hygienic thing to do. These cupcakes are going to turn out amazing. “Bertha, you’re going to have to give me the recipe for these cupcakes.”

“Of course, dear. I’ll write it down just for you.” Bertha smiles, which makes laugh lines appear on her face.

Her silver hair is put up in a neat bun as usual, which only highlights how round her face is. By looking at her, you wouldn’t be able to tell that she has just lost her daughter in a tragic incident barely one year ago.

“Ooh, make me a copy too, please,” Tony says as he shoves our fifth muffin pan into my oven. “Your cupcakes are my favorite.”

“I will, dear.” Bertha has won countless baking contests in town. She jealously guards her recipes from her rivals, but she doesn’t keep any secrets from me. Going through the trial of Nancy’s murder together has brought us together like nothing else ever could.

We’re lucky she’s willing to bake something for the meeting tonight, considering her own oven at home is currently broken. Luckily, mine works just fine. When you never use your kitchen appliances, they tend to stay in pristine condition.

My kitchen has seen more action tonight than it has the whole time I’ve lived here. Flour covers the laminate countertop, heat radiates from the oven, and the sweet smell of chocolate fills the room.

On the floor, Max looks up at me with pleading eyes. Please, he seems to say. I’ve been so good. I haven’t even barked much.

“No, Max,” I say. “I know it smells great, but chocolate will kill you.”

Max perks up his ears and wags his tail, happy to be finally noticed. He probably thinks I’m going to give him a taste. I bend down to pat his head. I hope he’s not too disappointed. I’ll give him some treats later.

“Jess, can we take Max out for a walk?” Aaron, Tony’s little boy, asks as he squats down beside me to pet Max.

“No, Aaron. The meeting is going to start soon.”

“Oh.” He goes quiet, like he’s in deep thought. His little hand continues to gently stroke Max’s shiny coat of black, white, and brown. “Daddy told me I can get a rabbit.”

I look up at Tony, who simply shrugs. “That’s nice, Aaron. What are you going to name your rabbit?”

“I like cupcakes. My favorite flavor is vanilla,” he says.

“Oh, is that what you’re going to name your rabbit? Vanilla?”

“No. We’re having chocolate cupcakes.” He looks at me strangely, as if I’m the weird one for bringing up the rabbit when we’ve obviously moved on from the subject.

“That’s right. Do you like chocolate too?”

“Jess.” Aaron stops petting Max as he turns toward me, his face suddenly serious. “I learned how to write my name today.”

“That’s great, Aaron. High five!” I hold my palm up and he raises his hand to meet mine.

Aaron gets up and, without saying anything, waddles to the living room to join her sister, probably enticed by the opening theme song of some cartoon I can hear playing on TV.

I stand up and raise my eyebrows at Tony.

“Don’t look at me.” Tony pulls out a pan full of golden brown cupcakes from the oven and places it on the counter. “I’ve stopped trying to make sense of conversations with the kids a long time ago.”

“Kids are so random,” I say. I get high school kids because I see them at the school every day, but little kids baffle me.

“Enjoy it while you can. They grow up so fast.” Bertha wipes her hands on her little red apron, which does little to hide her plump body. She adjusts the glasses perching on her nose as she checks the recipe book.

Ding-dong!

“I’ll get that.” I dash to the front door while Max scrambles in the opposite direction, his ears flopping around as he hides behind the kitchen counter.

When I adopted Max from the shelter last year, I thought it would be nice to have a dog because I’m a single girl living on my own.

As it turns out, Max sucks as a guard dog. I don’t know if it’s a Beagle thing or if I just got a dud, but I love the little guy anyway. I shoot him a disapproving look as I open the door.

“Hi, Jessica.” A middle-aged woman with sparkling blue eyes and light blonde hair greets me.

She’s Bertha’s best friend and the town’s senior pharmacist, a friendly woman whom no one dares to cross. She knows who’s taking which drugs, after all. That’s powerful intel right there.

“Hi, Catherine.” I smile and take the covered casserole dish she’s offering me.

“It smells good in there. Bertha must be inside.”

“Yep.” I kick the door open a little further and let Catherine in before closing it behind me.

The neighborhood holds a street party every year. After a lifetime of being judged by most people, it’s good to feel like I’m accepted. It’s nice to be a part of something bigger than me for once.

Being around people also makes me feel less anxious about the danger that I’m in, even though these neighborhood ladies probably wouldn’t be much help if things were to get really bad.

If I go missing, there’d be more people looking for me this way, but I don’t know if that will help. I mean, if they realize I’m gone and discover my dead body really quickly, I guess that’s a positive thing. It just wouldn’t do me any good if I die anyway.

Despite his cowardly ways, it’s been great having Max around, too. It’s nice to have a warm body beside me when I go to sleep at night.

God. That sounds pathetic, doesn’t it? I hope the Tinder date works out. It would be nice to have a warm human body beside me at night.

As people keep arriving, I direct them into the living room, even though many of them make a small detour into the kitchen anyway. Cupcakes are being snapped up, even as Bertha protests because she’s not done with the icing. She can be a bit of a perfectionist sometimes.

My living room looks small with ten adults and two kids crammed inside. There’s not enough room on the couches, so some people have to sit on the carpeted floor. Tony’s kids sit practically inches away from the TV, glued to their show even as the adults chatter among themselves.

The coffee table is covered by dishes of food brought in by my guests. Everyone eats and drinks while waiting for the meeting to start. Still, there’s a loud cheer when Bertha brings in the cupcakes from the kitchen.

We drag the coffee table to the middle of the room and have everyone sit in a circle around it. Tony lowers the volume of the TV and shushes his kids when they complain.

“Shall we begin?” Bertha asks as she takes her place on the couch. Pamela, who lives across the street from me, moves to sit on the floor to give space to Bertha. There’s an unspoken rule that she should always get a proper seat because she’s the oldest person in the room.

As I plant my butt on the floor, Max comes over and lays his warm, furry head on my lap. He may look like he’s relaxed at first glance, but his muscles are tense and his ears are pricked up. Being around this many strangers is making him nervous.

Bertha takes out her notes and goes around the room to check if everybody has done their tasks. Most people have already claimed a specialty because they’ve been doing this for years. Bertha has put Tony in charge of the decorations and I’m supposed to just stick with him and help him when needed.

“Oh, Jessica,” Bertha says toward the end of the meeting. “You can still help me open the door for the repairman, right?”

“Of course,” I say. Bertha will be traveling out of town to visit her relatives just as the town’s repairman comes back from his family vacation. Small town problems. “Third of next month. Wednesday afternoon. Right?”

“Right. He’ll call you on the day,” Bertha says with a smile.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings again. Ding-dong!

Who could it be? All the regulars are here and I don’t usually have personal guests at night. I get up from the floor and pad across the cool tiled floor toward the door. Max hurries to hide behind the couch.

As soon as I swing the door open, I wish I’d looked through the peephole first. I’m so not ready to see the guy standing on my doorstep right now.

At over six feet tall, Jacob towers over my own five foot four. It’s not just his height either. He has broad, hard chest and brawny arms, as well as a certain presence that just fills the space, almost overwhelmingly. His black hooded sweatshirt makes him look a little intimidating.

He moved in next door last Monday, the day after my car broke down. I have to admit it felt nice to have someone take care of me that way for once. He came back to my house in the late afternoon with my car key. He even offered to give me a ride to the car, but I said no. I chose to have Tony drive me there instead.

To be honest, I’d enjoyed the ride on his Harley Davidson. There’s nothing like having the fresh country wind in your hair while you’re going fifty miles per hour on a big bike, the roar of the engine blocking out every other sound. I remember holding on to his hard, strong body while the bike vibrated between my thighs.

We’d hardly touched, but I was so soaked by the time I got home I had to change my panties. I’d found myself daydreaming about him having his way with me, his hand exploring my body and his breath hot on my neck.

Regardless of the effects Jacob has on my panties, he annoys me with his cocky mannerisms. But more importantly, there’s a possibility he’s here because of something sinister.

It doesn’t matter. Now that he’s my neighbor, maybe I should try to be civil. Maybe he’ll move on to another town when it’s time. He wouldn’t be the first biker to spend a few days or even a few weeks in Ashbourne. Maybe I can use this opportunity to find out exactly what he’s doing here.

“Oh! Hi, Jacob. Are you here to join us?” I look up to meet his gaze and force myself to smile.

So far, he’s been keeping to himself, so it’s unlikely that he’s here to have a light chat about the street party. It doesn’t matter, though. The best strategy to get rid of him is to be a polite neighbor—nothing more, nothing less.

“No,” he says with a clipped tone. A deep frown forms on his ruggedly handsome face. What’s this about?