Something Good

 

A week later, Piper was walking into her apartment building. Nicole would close up in an hour, and Piper was whipped. She’d stayed longer than normal, but since it was her business she knew she had to put the work in. No pain, no gain worked for all aspects of life.

Busy was good, she kept reminding herself. But busy had its drawbacks. Like no life. Thankfully, she was only open six days a week. Sunday she could crash like she’d planned on doing tomorrow.

She stopped at the mailbox unit, shifting leftover cookies she was going to hand out to tenants, unlocked it and pulled everything out, tucked it into her bag, and made her way to the stairs. She was tired enough to take the elevator but tried to avoid it. A little exercise was good for the heart, she reminded herself. Especially for someone who owned a bakery and was around sweets all day long.

She opened her front door humming to herself. She wasn’t one for the quiet. The quiet tended to make her nervous, for a person that hadn’t been nervous much since she turned eighteen and was on her own. When she didn’t have to depend on anyone. Didn’t have to report to anyone. Didn’t have to worry about the other occupants of where she was living.

No nerves came with freedom. Or so she lectured herself.

It didn’t matter that her last two years in the system, she was finally in a stable home and got to experience what it was like to be part of a family. Nothing good ever lasted long, she knew that, so she enjoyed it while she could and at eighteen went on her way.

Me, myself, and I were her favorite three words.

Did her foster parents want her to stay so she could go to college? Sure. Did she? Nope.

She attended vocational training her last years of high school for the culinary arts. She’d put as much money away as she could while working part-time jobs and then moved out the minute she turned eighteen. One month after graduation.

She’d been on her own for eight years and loved every minute of it. Not being dependent on anyone but herself had some major perks.

After a quick shower and a large glass of ice tea on her little terrace overlooking the parking lot, she remembered she’d never checked her mail.

Not that she ever got anything exciting delivered to her. But opening mail was almost like Christmas to her. Which was pathetic, but hey, whatever got her through the day. Maybe there’d be something good in the mail today besides bills and fliers.

And today was her lucky day. There was something good, all right. Mail that didn’t belong to her. It belonged to her new mysterious neighbor that no one had spoken to in the few months he’d lived next to her.

 

***

 

Vin heard knocking and was just going to ignore it. There was no reason for anyone to be knocking on his door. He had no family or friends around. He met with most of his clients at his office when needed. That meant whoever was at the door was an unwanted interruption.

But the knocking didn’t stop. It only got louder. “Hello. I know you’re home. I noticed your car out back.”

Damn. What the hell? He marched to the door and yanked it open to find the cookie lady standing there. She was taller than he thought she’d be, but still much shorter than him.

“Yes?” he asked impatiently.

“Vincent Steele?” He narrowed his eyes on her. How the hell did she find out his name? “Wow. You can be a little scary when you do that with your face.” She ruined it by giggling. Guess he wasn’t scary enough.

“Vin,” he said.

“Hi, Vin. I’m Piper Fielding. I live next door and I got some of your mail in my box today,” she said, holding it up proudly like it was some prize she was awarded.

He snatched it out of her hand. “Thanks.”

He was going to just shut the door, but she stopped him when she asked, “Are you in the service?” Her eyes roaming over his body should have fed his ego, but it only annoyed him that she was still talking.

“No.”

“Oh. I thought maybe by the letter that you were.”

Figures the one piece of mail that was delivered wrong had to be something from the army. “Nope. Not in the service,” he said again.

“Okay. Well, if you were I was going to thank you for serving our country.”

She was standing there smiling at him and not looking as plain and ordinary as he’d thought by the picture on her webpage. Her brown hair was pulled back, exposing a lean neck and sharp cheekbones. Brown eyes and a huge smile dominated her face. That smile was engaging and contagious, only his immune system was strong enough to not be infected.

“Not anymore,” he said before he could stop himself. Before he realized he’d said more than he wanted to say. Before he opened up a can of worms and it occurred to him that not only did she know his name, but also a part of his past. Maybe he was weaker than he thought.

“Well, then I still get to thank you.”

She was still standing there in his doorway, making no attempt to leave. He should just shut it in her face, but he couldn’t be that rude, even if he wanted to. He never used to be like that before, and had to keep reminding himself that he needed to find who he was from years ago. Not who he lost all that time protecting his country. The hard outer shell he’d built around himself so he didn’t feel. That shell didn’t crack, it was blown to pieces. Now he felt too much.

“You’re welcome,” he said, figuring it might get her to leave. “Thanks for the cookies.” He couldn’t very well ignore the fact that she’d dropped them off three times now. His mother would proudly scold him like no tomorrow if she knew he hadn’t thanked Piper yet. But his mother wasn’t here and he would never admit it to her anyway.

“Oh. Did you like them? I tried to give you something different each time. I own Sweet Eats. Just in case you thought maybe I was stealing them or something.”

He wasn’t going to confess that he’d done a background check on her, even if her grin was making his own lips twitch. “Well, I appreciated them.”

She was still standing there staring at him, like she wanted to be invited in, but no way in hell was that happening. “I’m glad. I treat most of the people in the building. Just didn’t want you to think you were special.”

It was the way she said it, like she was mocking him now and he found it rather funny. Enough that the corner of his lips curled up a tad and he replied with, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She tried to peek around his shoulder to look in his apartment, but he was the wall that wasn’t budging. “I guess I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing.”

“Thanks,” he said, then shut the door.

He didn’t give her a chance to say anything else. He didn’t trust himself to continue to talk to her. Her smile, her voice, her laughter. He felt like he was dreaming again, and for once he didn’t want to wake up. Maybe he was running a fever. Maybe she really was contagious after all.

Instead, he walked back into his apartment and sat at his computer. He wanted to go sit on the terrace and get some air, but he’d heard her moving around out there before she knocked on his door. He’d been avoiding the terrace when she was home.

He realized that he was hungry now and didn’t have much in the way of food in his house. He could order takeout, but wasn’t in the mood to wait.

Grabbing his keys and wallet, he left the building and made his way to his car. Just as he was climbing in, he looked up and saw Piper sitting on her terrace waving her arm wildly at him, that huge smile on her face.

He lifted his hand up, acknowledged that he saw her, not that he could have avoided it. She might as well have been standing there stripping and waving her red shirt. Now why did that thought pop into his head?

He needed some food, a beer, and then he needed to get a grip. This was why he spent so much time alone.