I woke up with a gasp, my eyes snapping open. For a moment, I was disoriented, before I remembered.

Well, shit.

I’d had a dream about the beautiful man from next door. A very sexy dream.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” I whispered to myself.

I was lying back on my bed, panting, the sheets twisted around my legs, probably because I’d moved around a lot in my sleep. I was wet and throbbing between my thighs, the points of my nipples outlined in my thin sleep shirt. If I touched myself, I could probably make myself come in no time.

When was the last time that had happened?

Long before the divorce, Mike and I had been having sex on an on-off basis which meant we could go weeks without sleeping together. At the time he announced the divorce, it had been in the off times. So it had been a while since I’d had any satisfaction.

But still… to dream about someone so much younger than me…

I sighed and closed my eyes, running my fingers through my hair. It was a total mess, and I wondered just how much I’d been moving around in my sleep. Usually, I could go to bed in one position and not move at all until morning. Sometimes, I’d be conscious of shifting my position in the middle of the night before falling back to sleep.

Not so last night.

With my eyes closed, my mind went back to last night’s dream. I couldn’t remember all of it, but one part stood out. It was so damn innocent; it shouldn’t get me hot just thinking about it, but I couldn’t help it.

In my dream, Ken was at my door. Only, he wasn’t just standing there with his hands in his pockets. He wasn’t touching me, either. Instead, he had his hands crossed over his chest as he leaned against the doorframe. I couldn’t help but look at his hands and wish they were on me instead.

He had lightly tanned skin, so different from my pale skin. It was probably something genetic, the reason why my skin could never tan, but Ken was a little darker. His hands were big, with visible veins running through them. His biceps were impressive as well, but my sole focus was on those big, wide hands.

Ken wasn’t doing anything, but they looked strong to me. He had long fingers, and even with all the work he was doing, his nails were well cut and clean. They tightened for a moment, and I saw a flexibility that said he often worked with those hands, unlike me. The most I did was typing or sorting through files.

I bet they’re calloused, I thought to myself. Rough hands.

My breath caught as I thought of those calloused hands touching me. It had been too long since a man had touched me with desire, and the unexpected dreams were driving me insane.

I groaned to myself as I sat up in bed, scratching my head and opening my eyes.

He was coming over today. I couldn’t have those kinds of thoughts with him around, or I’d just make a fool of myself. I may not pursue anything with him, but I didn’t want the attractive man thinking of me as the weird old lady from next door. I shuddered just thinking it.

I got out of bed and headed for my shower.

I don’t even know that much about him, I chided myself. He’s hot, but he could be a serial killer for all I know. Last night was the first time I’d ever talked to him. All I knew was that he was quiet and hard working. As far as I knew, he didn’t talk much to people in the neighborhood, which was why I only just learned yesterday that his name was Ken. I wondered how many people knew that much about him. So not only was he quiet, but he kept to himself. That might be more because he’s always spending time fixing up his house.

Doesn’t matter. We’re just going to talk about my fence, and I’ll convince him he doesn’t have to do anything. End of story.

After my shower, I went downstairs to get started on breakfast. As it was cooking, I made a phone call.

“Hello,” came a voice on the other line when the call was picked up.

“Martha, it’s me,” I said. “Lydia, Bryson’s mom. I hope I’m not calling you too early.”

“Oh, Lydia! Not at all, I was actually about to get started on breakfast. What can I do for you?”

I flipped a pancake on the stove, then went back to the conversation.

“I was wondering if you could have Bryson stay over for the day? And, maybe sleep over tonight? I have some business to take care of, and I don’t want to leave him alone. I hope you don’t mind it’s on such short notice.” Usually, we set up these little play dates during the week, not on the day of.

“Of course, I don’t mind,” she said genuinely. “My kids would love to see him come back, I’m sure.”

I smiled to myself. Her son, Jason, and my Bryson were the best of friends, and Jason was one of the few people my son hadn't stopped talking to when Mike left. He had other friends, but he was closest with Jason, and because of that, Bryson was close with Martha’s three other kids as well. They loved having him over, and whenever I couldn’t stay with him, they took care of him for me.

We talked it all over, and it was decided I would be taking Bryson over after breakfast. I didn’t know when Ken would be coming over, after all, so the sooner the better. We’d stayed up last night and watched three movies before Bryson finally fell asleep, so he’d have a late start, anyway.

It was around nine when I finished making breakfast. I set the table, then went to wake up my little boy before the food got too cold. I walked up the stairs and went to his room, knocking first before I went in. He was still sprawled on his bed, his lips parted. I heard cute little snores coming out of him, and some drool had dripped over his pillow.

I couldn’t help a smile to myself.

“Bryson,” I called gently. I kneeled on the side of the bed and shook him lightly. “Come on, Bryson. Wake up. I’ll be taking you over to Jason’s place today after breakfast. Don’t you want to go see your friend and play?”

My son was something of a heavy sleeper. But after a minute of coaxing, I was able to get him to sit up, then get out of bed.

“Would you like to shower first, or eat first then shower?”

Bryson blinked, then rubbed one of his eyes, his mouth opening in a wide yawn.

“Breakfast,” he mumbled, heading for his door.

I stopped him before he walked into it, chuckling to myself, then I led him down to where I’d set everything up. The smell woke him up a bit, and he hurried over to the table to eat. I sat across from him and supervised as he ate. He tended to move too fast, and I didn’t want him to choke. We were done at about the same time, and he helped me carry the dishes over to the sink. He pulled a stool over and climbed on top of it to help me wash and dry the dishes, humming all the while.

“Why don’t you head upstairs to get ready?” I told him, once we had everything done and I was going around cleaning the kitchen surfaces. “I’ll be taking you to Jason’s, remember? Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

“Okay, Mom,” he said, hugging me around the waist before he was running back to his room.

Half an hour later, he came down the stairs. He had a bag packed with random stuff that I raised an eyebrow at, but I didn’t question him. I helped him take his stuff to the car, then strapped him into the back seat, and we were off. Martha only lived a few blocks away. I could probably just walk over if I were on my own, but it would be too much for Bryson.

Martha opened the door once I stopped on her driveway, her son Jason running out of the house over to my car. His excitement seemed to affect Bryson, who was fumbling with his seatbelt. I laughed at my little boy and stepped out of the car, rounding to the backseat to help.

“Mom!” he whined. “I can do it myself.”

“I know you can, but let me help you out, okay? Jason’s waiting for you, after all.”

He didn’t argue anymore, but he was practically vibrating with impatience. As soon as I had him freed, and I handed him his bag as he stepped out, he and Jason were attacking each other with hugs. I was afraid they’d topple over for a moment, but instead, they righted themselves and sped into the house. Martha, smart woman that she was, had stepped aside to let them through.

“I’m sorry for springing this on you on such short notice,” I said, smiling sheepishly.

She waved a dismissive hand at me. “It’s fine. I can imagine how hard it is to juggle work and to look after a hyper little boy. I’ll take good care of your son, Lydia. I’ll drive him over tomorrow morning, or you can come pick him up?”

I nodded, opening my car door and pausing with one foot inside. “I’ll call you and let you know, but if there’s no word from me by eleven, just bring him over.”

She nodded her agreement, and I got back into the car, sending her a wave that she returned before walking back into the house. I drove back to my own home. I didn’t realize I was trembling until I was back on my driveway, and I pulled the keys out of the ignition.

Nerves, I thought to myself. What am I nervous about?

I went back into the house and wondered for a moment what I could do to pass the time. I’d finished all the work I needed to do yesterday because I’d thought I would be spending the evening and the whole weekend with my son. I wanted to spend more time with him, so he wouldn’t start to feel neglected just because one of his parents was gone. But now, I was waiting for my super hot, next door neighbor to show up. To make it worse, thoughts from my dream were back again.

No, I groaned internally. Stop thinking about his firm arms and compact body! I’m going to embarrass myself when he comes here otherwise.

I went into the house to find something to keep me busy. I cleaned up the house, then arranged my kitchen cabinets. Then, I found some dirty laundry and did that. Afterwards, there was nothing more to do. I’d wasted an hour already. There wasn’t anything else to do, so I went to my living room to wait.

It felt like torture, sitting cross-legged on my couch, hugging a pillow and trying to control my thoughts and slow down my beating heart.

Around the time I thought I should start up on lunch, the doorbell rang. My heart jumped into my throat as I jumped off the couch, so fast I almost stumbled. I paused to take in a deep breath, then headed for the door. I looked down at how I’d dressed up and winced.

What the fuck was I trying to do?

I was in a pair of white slacks that were a little tight around my thighs and hips. I was going a little soft, despite my efforts to exercise. I had a push-up bra on under a blouse that was pale cream and almost sheer. If I stood in the direct sunlight, you could see through the fabric, just a little. He wouldn’t see much besides the outline of my waist, but I wondered now if it had been deliberate. I could have just put on a pair of jeans and a regular top, but no.

Thinking I’d waited a little too long, I opened the door before he rang the bell again, and I sucked in my breath. I hoped he hadn't noticed.

If anything, Ken looked juicier than he did yesterday, and I wondered if he was dressing to impress just like I was.

“Hi,” he said, grinning down at me.

His grin had my body trembling even more than the rest of him, and I worried a little that my legs had turned to jelly. My hand tightened on the door, and I cleared my throat. “Please, come in,” I said, stepping aside and letting him through.

My eyes dropped down as he passed me, and I bit my lower lip to hold back a moan.

He was dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a tight sweater that outlined his perfectly muscled chest. The jeans hugged his thighs and his nice, firm ass. My fingers twitched, wanting a touch. I held back, though, because that was technically sexual harassment.

“Would you like something to drink?” I asked as I closed the door behind us, raising my eyes away from his ass.

You’re too old for someone this young and hot, I told myself.

He was standing in the foyer, looking around the house, and thankfully hadn't seen me ogling him. I knew what he was seeing and felt a little proud of myself. I’d been to the neighbor’s house years ago before they moved, and I knew the layout was different.

The front door led straight into a wide foyer that stood right in front of the stairs. On the right side, there was an open space and a large window that faced the other house next to mine. The stairs curved, so besides the landing, there wasn’t much to see. To the other side was a small coat closet. Walking around the closet’s corner led to an open living room that wouldn’t be too clear if one was standing outside the door.

If you walked around the stairs and headed to the back, you’d walk right into the open kitchen and dining areas. I had three bedrooms upstairs and two bathrooms including a master bath, and one toilet downstairs. It was an open kind of house, one that was meant to hold and raise a family, even though the whole space now only held my son and me.

I could tell Ken looked impressed with it, and I felt a bubble of pride.

“I could give you a tour of the first floor,” I offered because he hadn't replied yet. “It’s pretty much all open space, so there isn’t much.”

He looked down at me. “It’s a very good-looking house. I could tell yesterday when I was here it was different from mine.”

I nodded. “You would think so, just looking from the outside, but not all the houses around here are alike. You could say this place is my pride and joy.”

I gestured with my hand for him to follow me as I headed for the kitchen.

“The living room is there,” I said, waving my hand to the left. “This is a closet,” I gestured at the door under the stairs. “The bathroom.” Another door behind the stairs. “And this is the kitchen.”

Ken chuckled. “You weren’t kidding. There isn’t much to see, huh.”

I shrugged. “I like the open plan. I can sit on my couch and see most of the house. It’s easier to keep track of my son that way.” It was why I worked a lot on the first floor instead of using the office upstairs, that I’d fashioned from one of the guestrooms. “Now, would you like something to drink?”

“Just water would be fine,” he said with a small smile.

I got a glass and poured some water from the tap while he looked around. When I turned back to him, he was focused on a picture I had on the wall. I saw it and grimaced. I didn’t want that picture around; it wasn’t even anything great. It was a picture of a mountain, and so blurry the only way to differentiate between trees and rocks was by color.

“Can I ask who took that?” Ken asked, tilting his head at it.

I’d hoped he wouldn’t ask. I handed him the glass and looked at the picture. I tried not to look at it too much; sometimes I forgot it was even there.

“My husband took that, probably.” I shrugged. “He left it behind. I believe it’s some mountain out in Virginia. Honestly, I would have rather tossed it or locked it up somewhere, but my son, Bryson, really wanted me to keep it. I think it’s so he won’t forget about his dad, even though he’s left us, so I didn’t argue too much about it.”

Ken nodded absently, and I let out a breath of relief when he dropped the subject.

“I came to show you your backyard,” Ken said. He’d downed the water in the glass and left it on the dining table. “I’m not sure if you’ve seen it.”

I’d avoided looking at it. I didn’t want to know just how bad it looked because I could imagine it wasn’t pretty. I didn’t go out there much to begin with, so it wasn’t well groomed. I’d left that up to my husband before, so I didn’t want to see the pathetic state it was probably in.

I moved to look through the window, then sighed.

“It looks terrible,” I said out loud. Fuck, it’s so damn ugly, I thought to myself.

The fence was down, and I could see his well-kept yard with a neat pile of chopped wood. In comparison, even though there was nothing in my yard, the grass was a little more grown, along with some weeds and wildflowers, that I would have to cut down.

“You know what? I need a drink,” I said. “I haven’t worked on that yard in a while, and before we go out there, I’d like something. Would you like anything?”

I didn’t spare him a look as I moved to the counter. The counter was just below another window in the kitchen, and now that I was looking outside, I almost felt ashamed of myself. I’d done my best, but there was a lot I wasn’t doing for my home. There was silence behind me as I busied myself.

Then, I heard the floorboards creak as Ken walked up behind me, so close I felt his body heat. My body tensed, and I realized I’d failed in trying to keep myself relaxed.

I’d thought I had control of my thoughts, my nervousness, but I was wrong. With him right behind me, it was just so much more noticeable to me.