Page 2 of Bothered By the Grump

Fuck, she’d be so perfect. She would make breathy moans instead of those frustrated little yelps she always gives me. She would look over her shoulder at me as I push in and out of her, feeling the tightness of her pussy close around me…

I come hard, making a mess of my hand and grunting out her name while I find my release. I lean against the door, my knees almost buckling beneath me. Several long minutes pass as I stand there breathing hard, trying to gather my wits again.

Visions of Noelle still whirl through my mind. I can’t get enough of that damn woman. I haven’t been this infatuated or obsessed with a woman…well, ever. She’s one of a kind and making her angry is the highlight of my day.

I grin like a fool. Maybe it’s my Irish roots but there’s just something about an angry woman, especially her. I love when some of her Southern twang comes out. She doesn’t even notice she does it. She’s the whole delicious package. The flush of her face, the flash of her dark eyes, the way she struggles to be mean. She can’t even curse properly without stumbling over her words. She’s so proper, so perfect… and too damn young for me. Never mind the fact that she hates me. I grunt. I prefer to forget those obstacles.

I clean myself up and get my day started. Reggie, my one worker, will be coming in soon. Tourists will be dropping by to see me in action and I’m working on a new project. I’ve become accustomed to the crowds that gather to watch the art of glass blowing. I’ve always preferred being alone, but this is part of the job. I’ve become especially fond of the money people spend buying my art while I work. You could have knocked me over with a feather if you had told me when I was young that I would actually be able to make something I love into a business.

Before Noelle arrived, I was simply known as the grumpy Irishman with the glass blowing store. But she brings out something in me. I feel more alive being in her presence. All the bullshit from the past goes away.

I shake my head, knowing that even as I work, I’ll be thinking of ways to rile up the pretty lass next door.

Chapter three

Noelle

Aw hell. He’s too damn attractive for his own good. -Noelle

The encounter with my good-looking neighbor rattles me all day. I’m known for my proper disposition and my ability to stay cool under stress. Right now, I feel like a teapot about to boil over. How does he get under my skin so easily? Why do I let my guard down when I’m around him?

My mama would be ashamed of me. She taught me to keep my dignity under any circumstances. She would say, “Never let ‘em see you sweat, honey. Especially not men. They’ll take advantage of you in a heartbeat.”

Mama is something else. She comes from a long line of tough women who endured countless tragedies in their lives. We Grays tend to pick the wrong men. My own father ran off when I was just a baby. He met a stripper at the local strip club that he said he couldn’t live without, threw all his belongings in his truck, and was out of our trailer before Mama even came home from work. My Granny Adele saw his truck speeding down the dirt road on his way out.

Granny Adele lived in the trailer next door. She too suffered from the Gray curse. Her own husband died on their honeymoon. They went hiking and my grandfather took a plunge off a narrow cliff. Granny was barely pregnant with my mama at the time, and she decided never to take a chance on a man again. As she put it, “They either die on you or run off. Not worth puttin’ time and effort into any of them.”

They both taught me to never trust a man, to never get attached. I left Holly Oaks, Georgia behind to create a new life for myself here, to show myself and the town that thought very little of me that I could do something on my own.

I glance around my tearoom. The dark wooden tables shine, and the intricately designed chairs look just perfect. With the right tablecloths and the right centerpieces, everything will be exactly as I’ve always pictured it. I let out a long breath.

This is what I wanted, what I dreamed of. Granny Adele showed me how to make tea when I was just a girl. She said iced tea was great, but hot tea was the fancy kind. It was what the British drank, what rich people drank. We would sit with our pinkies out at her old, scarred Formica table and feel like we were having tea with the Queen of England. It was our escape.

When she died last year and left me what little money she had saved, I knew what I had to do. Mama thought I was a bit crazy, but she still encouraged me.

“Fly, Ellie, fly. Do something that I never had the chance to do.”

Leaving her behind felt like losing a part of myself. But here in Maple Lane Falls, I was someone else, someone better. I wasn’t little Ellie Gray, poor and helpless. I was Noelle Gray, owner of my own business. I was someone.

I hear the rock music start up from Blow Me. Luca likes to play it loud while he creates. I send the wall that divides us a nasty look.

I am special here. I am my own woman. And I do not need to be attracted to a neanderthal like Luca who can bring me nothing but trouble.

If only I could tell my hormones that…

Chapter four

Luca

She’s so damn beautiful. Far too beautiful for me. -Luca

A knock on my door wakes me up from my sound slumber on the couch. My dog, Lucky, immediately starts barking his head off. I love him dearly, but I’ve never been able to train that instinct to bark out of him.

I pat him gently on the head. “I got this, Lucky. Doubt any criminals are knocking on the door.” He would be far more apt to lick them to death than attack them anyway.

I push back a corner of the curtain to look outside. My eyebrows automatically raise in surprise at the sight of beautiful Noelle Gray on my front porch. I can’t stop the grin from automatically spreading across my face.

I open the door wide. “Hey neighbor. Need a cup of sugar?” Much to Noelle’s horror and my delight, we’re the closest two neighbors can be out here on the wooded land outside of town. I love looking over and knowing that she’s right there, that I can be there if she needs me. The instinct to protect her is sometimes overwhelming. If this woman only knew how obsessed I am with her…