CHAPTER 5
JIMMY
After Grandma left for her date, I had the house to myself. I threw all my soiled clothes into the washer, then gave Sweet Pea one last glare as he climbed on top of his cage, happily rattling a toy as if he had nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, he seemed pretty damn proud of himself.
“Crazy-ass bird,” I muttered, then went to the kitchen to search for food in nothing but my underwear.
I opened the freezer and grinned.
“Hell yeah,” I whispered as I took out the pre-made hamburger patties.
One look in the fridge and pantry told me that Grandma had stocked up on all my favorite foods. The woman was a saint. A foul-mouthed saint.
Dropping three burgers into the pan, I switched on the ancient radio on the counter and turned the volume all the way up.
As the burgers sizzled, I got out the buns and set them on a plate. Next, I doused them in mustard and ketchup, then went to flip the burgers over. Something popped in the pan, spraying my chest with hot grease.
“Ow, fuck!” I hissed, stepping back from the stove. I wiped at my reddened skin with a damp dish towel, once again cursing the bird that was responsible for my lack of clothing. If I’d had a shirt on, this wouldn’t have happened.
I spotted Grandma’s apron hanging on a hook by the kitchen doorway. I looked down at my unprotected torso, then back at the frilly fabric.
So, that’s what those things are for.
After mulling it over, I knew the best option was for me to wear it. Anything was better than having first-degree burns on my nipples. After tying it on I went back to my lunch, singing along to the radio.
Once the meat was thoroughly cooked, I turned off the heat and slid the pan off the back burner. I was about to pick up the spatula when I heard a squeak behind me.
Thinking it was that damn bird again, I started to turn around, ready to tell him not to take a dump on my food.
Imagine my surprise when I ended up face to face with a girl. A gorgeous-as-fuck girl.
For about three awesome seconds we made eye contact, and my gaze dropped to her full pink lips. Her black tank top hugged her body, and the color almost matched her long dark hair. Her skin was pale—creamy. This time of year, a lot of people spent time outside in the sun. Her fair complexion told me that she either didn’t have the ability to tan, or she didn’t spend a lot of time outside. Either way the look suited her, the contrast stunning.
I noticed her eyes were focused on my chest, specifically the nipple that was peeking out from behind the apron—the girly apron that was barely covering my body.
Then she started rambling on about my underwear.
I didn’t have time to process what was happening because a flash of bright color flew through the room. Startled, I stumbled back, knocking my plate off the counter.
Sweet Pea flew overhead and dropped a watery bird turd on my shoulder with an audible splat.
He let out a squawk as he hit the kitchen window, then knocked over an old coffee tin full of pennies my grandma always kept next to the sink. Coins scattered everywhere.
I took a step forward, attempting to catch the frantic bird, but he flew out of my reach, leaving just as fast as he came.
My foot slipped on one of the buns and I reached out to grab on to something to keep me from falling on my ass.
Unfortunately, the object closest to me was the flour container. I managed to stay upright, but the flour wasn’t so lucky. An explosion of white powder filled the room as it hit the floor, covering the orange and white checkered linoleum along with the pennies.
I heard a feminine gasp and awareness hit me like a freight train.
I was practically naked. I was wearing an apron. I almost fell over while being practically naked in that apron. I had parrot shit running down my arm.
And a beautiful stranger was staring at me, with her perfect mouth hanging open in shock.
This wasn’t my finest moment.
I switched off the music and the silence that followed was deafening.
“Who are you?” I barked, the question coming out harsher than I intended as I grabbed some paper towels and wiped at the mess on my skin.
“Mackenna. Beverly’s neighbor,” she replied, her eyes narrowing. “Who are you?”
“Jimmy.” When I got a blank stare, I felt the need to elaborate. “Beverly’s grandson.”
“Oh.” She blushed, looking away. “I thought her grandkids were younger.”
“Nope. All grown up,” I said, spreading my arms, causing her to glance back at me. I was reminded again of how exposed I was when she averted her eyes to the ceiling and bit her lip. She was obviously uncomfortable, and I couldn’t help having a little fun with the situation—anything to distract myself from the embarrassment I was feeling. “And you must be the kid who moved in next door.”
“Excuse me?” she asked, her eyes cutting back to me.
“The one who knits Grandma’s blankets. I take it that’s you?”
“Yes, except I’m not a child, obviously.” Now it was her turn to spread her arms, and her breasts strained against the material of the tight shirt.
I bit back a groan as my eyes trailed over the rest of her body. “Obviously.”
There was nothing childish about her. She was above average height for a girl, probably about 5’7”. Toned thighs led to soft hips. Those curves gave way to the dips in her narrow waist. And those tits. My guess was a solid c-cup. Fucking perfect.
Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, my inner gentleman was screaming at me to stop leering and estimating her bra size.
But I couldn’t look away.
Her nipples were hard, which probably meant she was either cold or turned on. And it wasn’t chilly in here. Grandma set her thermostat at a balmy 75 degrees, often keeping the windows cracked even though she had the air conditioning on.
Knowing this girl could be feeling the same instant attraction I was made my dick twitch. Suddenly I was very grateful for the apron, because it was hiding the stiffy I was sporting.
Mackenna huffed and started to turn away. “Well, this is awkward, and not what I had planned for today, so I’m just gonna go…”
“Wait. You’re making me clean this up by myself?” I asked, stalling.
I should’ve wanted her to leave. She was right—this was incredibly awkward. But my desire to keep talking to her outweighed the humiliation. I still didn’t know why she was here, and I wanted to find out.
Facing away from me, she paused. “Could you at least put some clothes on? That apron is ridiculous.”
“My wardrobe is out of commission at the moment, so this is all I’ve got,” I said. “Unless you want me to just take it off…?”
“No.” She quickly shook her head, and I watched the long strands swish against her lower back. I didn’t get a chance to admire the way her jean shorts hugged her rounded ass because she turned around with a determined look on her face.
“Do you really want me to stay?” she asked while boldly eyeing the apron, challenging me to say no.
“Yes.” I didn’t hesitate.
Pressing her lips together, she assessed the room then let out a resigned sigh. “Okay. I’ll sweep. You get mop duty.”
Her bossy, business-like attitude made me grin. I thought about arguing—just to keep her around a little longer—but decided against it. Between my wandering eyes and forcing her to clean up my mess, I had already crossed over the threshold of rude.
After grabbing the cleaning supplies from the closet, I handed her the broom and we got to work. As she swept the flour-covered pennies into a pile, I filled a bucket with hot water.
She stayed focused on the mess, doing her best to ignore me.
I didn’t like it.
“What are you doing, letting yourself into my grandma’s house anyway?” I asked, needing to know if this was going to be a regular occurrence. Partly hoping it would be. “Are you in the habit of breaking and entering?”
“Beverly told me I could come over anytime,” she said defensively, her eyebrows furrowed. “I like Sweet Pea.”
“You’re kidding.”
She still wouldn’t look at me. “I take care of him, clean out his cage and stuff. But if you have a problem with me coming over, then you can do it from now on.”
“Oh, hell no. I want nothing to do with that bird. He’s evil.”
She stopped sweeping to glare at me. “He is not.”
“He’s an asshole,” I stated flatly.
“Most parrots are assholes,” she shot back.
We were only a few feet from each other, and now that she was looking at me I noticed the unique color of her eyes. They were the color of the ocean. Not clear and blue like the Caribbean.
Stormy.
Gray-blue on the outside and sandy brown around the iris.
I couldn’t help feeling like I’d seen her somewhere before. “You look a little familiar. Have we met?”
“No.” She bent down to gather the coins and dropped them into the coffee tin, each one falling in with a clank.
I crouched next to her to help, reaching for a few strays that had rolled under the table. “What’s your last name?”
“Connelly,” she said warily, and suddenly it clicked.
“I saw you in the news a few years ago. Your story was all over social media. You were that guy’s girlfriend. What’s his name… Jason or something.”
She glanced away with a pinched expression. “Jaxon.”
“Yeah, that’s it.” I snapped my fingers. “Jaxon’s girlfriend.”
Her head whipped back in my direction and her eyes blazed, that storm raging in their depths. “Don’t call me that. Never call me that.”
“Whoa. Sorry.” I held up my hands, realizing I’d struck a nerve. I didn’t remember much about her, just that everyone within a 30-mile radius had been talking about the breakup that ended with the guy freaking out and going to prison.
Changing the subject seemed like a good idea.
“What can I call you then?” I grinned, trying to lighten the moment. “How about Mack?”
“No.” The last penny made it back into the container.
Both of us stood, and she reached around me to place it in its spot next to the sink. The kitchen was small, so she had to get closer to me. I could’ve moved back to make more room for her, but I didn’t. I stood my ground, letting her arm brush against my stomach.
I thought she was going to leave, but instead she turned to gaze out the window over the sink. She was just a foot away from me now, and I stared at her profile. Those full pink lips stood out against her pale skin.
“How long will you be here?” she asked quietly, curiously.
“All summer,” I replied and something akin to dread flashed across her face, the corners of her mouth turning down.
I was a little offended. She was the one who’d let herself into my grandma’s house, uninvited. We’d barely met, but I got the distinct feeling she didn’t like me much.
“Well, Mack,” I taunted, deliberately using the nickname she didn’t want. Leaning in close enough to smell the clean scent of her shampoo, I whispered, “Looks like we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”
She sucked in a breath and stepped away. I was sure she was about to run from the room, but she didn’t get the chance.
Grandma came around the corner, her purse slung around her shoulder. “I’m back. Forgot my checkbook.” She glanced back and forth between Mackenna and me, then smiled wide. “Oh, good. You two have met.”
“Barely,” I grumped, self-consciously tugging at the hem of the apron.
Ernie was right behind Grandma, and his eyes widened under the shadow of his ballcap as he took in the condition of the room and my attire. Or lack thereof.
“Jimmy was just telling me how much he loves Sweet Pea,” Mackenna piped up. “He said he wanted to clean his cage from now on, so I guess you won’t need me for that anymore.”
Shocked at the blatant dishonesty, I narrowed my eyes at her. “Liar.”
“James Peabody Johnson,” Grandma gasped, and even though Mackenna didn’t smile, I saw her lips twitch at the use of my full name. “You’ll be polite to our guest.”
“Breaking in doesn’t really make her a guest, does it?”
“Mackenna’s welcome here anytime. You’d best remember that,” Grandma said firmly.
The gorgeous girl shoved the broom in my direction. I took it from her, making sure our fingers brushed. The hair on my arm stood up at the contact.
Standing back, she put her hands on her hips, scowled at me one last time, then glanced at Grandma. “I need to get back home anyway. It was nice to see you, Beverly. You too, Ernie.”
As she walked from the room, I could see white handprints from the flour on her waist. The sight of it was somewhat erotic, and I wished I’d been the one to put those prints there. I heard her whistle a goodbye to the parrot, then she was gone.
“Well.” Ernie hitched his thumbs under the suspenders he always wore. “Gotta say, this entire situation is mighty uncomfortable. I’ll go wait in the car. Great to have you here for the summer, Jimmy!”
Then it was just Grandma and me.
“Well, that was embarrassing,” I said pointlessly.
Shaking her head, Grandma clucked her tongue. “Goodness. I hope you and Mackenna can work out your differences by tomorrow.”
“What’s tomorrow?”
“Mackenna volunteered to paint my house. I thought you could lend a hand.”
I grimaced. “I think she hates me.”
Grandma shrugged. “Fix it. Unless you don’t want to help.”
“No way in hell am I letting her do the work by herself.” I may have been a lot of things, but lazy wasn’t one of them. And, despite what the past few minutes might suggest, I wasn’t an asshole either.
“Good answer,” she said with a nod, then her face softened in the way it did when she wasn’t joking around or cussing up a storm—which was hardly ever. “I mean it, Jimmy. Be nice to that girl. I think she needs friends. Poor thing hardly ever smiles.”
Feeling a mix of emotions, I glanced out the window at the house next door. I searched the windows, hoping to get a glimpse of dark hair and pale skin, but I saw nothing but closed blinds.
“She comes over to hang out with the shit machine?”
“James!” Grandma scolded, then cracked a smile. “Yes. Mackenna loves that crap factory. That girl is an enigma. I’ve never known anyone so kind, yet so closed off at the same time. I’ve tried to get her to open up to me, but it’s been tough. And you know how likable I am!” Exasperated, she threw her hands in the air.
Chuckling, I nodded. “It’s impossible not to like you.”
“Damn straight.”
“I’ll try to be nice,” I promised.
“Good. Be the charmer I know you are. You’ve got something in your hair.” She gestured toward my head, then looked at the flour still covering a good portion of the kitchen. “I don’t think baking is your thing. Hopefully you’re better at painting.” Walking out of the room, she called over her shoulder, “And by the way, you look good in peach.”
Then I was alone again with no lunch, one hell of a mess, and a dick that was still slightly perked up from meeting her.
Mackenna.
I wasn’t proud of myself. I’d just been a complete jerk to the hottest girl I had ever seen.
Initially, the reason for that was mostly because I was mortified, but there was something about pushing her buttons that turned me on. Her attitude was defensive, aloof, and almost dismissive. And it might’ve been childish but I wanted her attention, even if it was because I made her mad.
An already-interesting summer just got a lot more intriguing.
Grabbing the mop, I went back to cleaning the disaster in the kitchen and promised myself I’d make peace with Mackenna tomorrow.