They come down the stairs and sit at the makeshift card table in camp chairs. “This looks good.” Dad smiles as he picks up his knife and fork before digging in.

After tossing and turning all night, I’ve decided I’m not going to let that horrid man next door spoil my new-house glow. He’s nothing to me, and I don’t care where he lives or how beautiful his wife is.

Fucker.

Our date never happened. That was a lifetime ago. I’ve moved on.

“Maybe I’ll get a round table for the kitchen area,” I think out loud. On the ground floor there is a foyer with a big, rickety timber staircase, a formal living room, and then a dining area, and in the back of the house is a big kitchen and informal living area. It’s all horrible, of course. I can’t wait to dig in and make it my own.

“Maybe a bench built into the corner would look good too,” Mom says as she looks around.

“Maybe.” I smile. “So many possibilities.”

“I can’t wait to see what you do with the place,” Mom says as she begins to eat. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right here on your own?”

“Yes. Go on your trip. You’ve had this booked for over a year.” Mom and Dad are leaving for Europe tomorrow for their trip of a lifetime, four months of sightseeing. “I get my dog today, remember? We will be fine, just the two of us.”

Mom exhales heavily. “I wish we could stay for a few more days. It just feels so . . . empty. You don’t even have furniture for most of the place yet.”

“Mom, I’m fine. My girlfriends are around, and if I need anything, Liam is here, and I have enough furniture to get by until the new stuff arrives. I came from a one-bedroom apartment, Mom. Of course this big old house looks empty right now.”

“I guess,” she agrees.

“Besides, I want to live here for a few weeks before I decide what I want. This house is different. I want to really get a feel for it and buy just the right things.”

“What time do you pick up your dog?” Dad asks.

“As soon as you guys leave.” I hunch my shoulders. “I’m more excited about getting him than I am about the house.” I’ve wanted my own dog for years.

“It’s not vicious, is it?” Mom says. “I always worry about grown dogs in shelters being vicious.”

I roll my eyes. “He’s not vicious. He’s as sweet as pie.”

“Did you think of a name for him?”

“Not yet; I’ll see what suits him when he gets here.” I can hardly wipe the goofy smile from my face. “I have to go by the store and get him some food on the way.” My mind goes into overdrive. “I wonder what he likes to eat?”

Knock, knock sounds at the door.

We look at each other. “Who would that be?” Mom frowns.

“Not sure.” I go to the front door and open it to see a little old lady. She’s holding a tray with a red-checked tea towel over it.

“Welcome to the neighborhood.” She smiles as she passes me the tray. “I saw the truck yesterday, and I made you some scones.”

“Oh.” I smile as I take them from her. “Thank you so much. How lovely. I’m Juliet.”

“I’m Carol Higginbottom. I live just across the road.” She points to a house across the cul-de-sac. It’s a stately home with perfectly manicured gardens.

“Hi, Carol, it’s lovely to meet you.” Oh my gosh, so sweet.

Carol looks over my shoulder and into the house as if she’s going to walk in. “Is your husband home?”

“No.” I step in front of her. I don’t want to invite her in until I get more things put away. It looks like a dumpster fire in there. “I’m not married.”

“Oh.” She looks at me in surprise. “Engaged then?”

“No. Single. I bought the house and will be living here alone.”

Her face falls. “Oh dear.”

I fake a smile. Hmm, sweet Carol is annoying.

“What do you do, then . . . to be able to afford a home in this neighborhood?”

Scratch that, Carol is really fucking annoying.

“I’m a nurse.”

“Oh . . .” Her eyes hold mine, and I can see her brain ticking at a million miles per minute. “I see.”

“Who do you live with, Carol?”

“I’m a widow. Mervin passed a few years back.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

Actually, I can pick her brain a bit as we walk out onto my veranda. “Tell me about the street.”

Carol smiles broadly. “It’s a wonderful place to live, dear. It’s like a big family.”

“So, you know the neighbors, then?”

“Oh yes, we all know each other very well.”

“Who lives where?” I ask.

“Well”—she points to her house—“I live in the white house. Next door to me is Blake Grayson; he’s a doctor. Wild as they come, that one.”

“Oh.”

Chloe is going to fucking freak.

“Then you have Antony Deluca. He lives next door to you.”

“Alone?” I ask.

“He has a different girlfriend every week.” She rolls her eyes. “He’s a lawyer and isn’t home very much. He works on big fancy cases all over the state.”

“Oh.” I glance over to the gray house. A fancy lawyer, hey?

Hmm.

“On the other side of me, in the cream house, is Ethel.” Carol smiles. “She’s elderly and a little frail. We all look out for her.”

I smile. I have to admit, this does sound like a nice place to live.

“Then on the corner”—she points down the street to a huge house on the corner and rolls her eyes—“that’s the military house. Best to avoid that one at all costs.”

“The military house?” I frown.

“Six Navy SEALs live there together. I don’t know, special ops or something.”

My eyes linger down the road . . . my interest piqued.

“Sordid things happen in that house, dear.”

“Really?” I bite my lip to hide my smile. Special-ops sordid things sound hot.

“Women coming and going at all hours. Real playboys, those ones.” She leans in to lower her voice again. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re swingers.”

“Oh . . .” I nod as my eyes roam over their house. “Are they married?”

“No.” She frowns. “What makes you say that?”

“Swingers are married, aren’t they?”

“No, no, dear, it just means that they have sex with a lot of people. Look it up on the Google.”

The Google.

I bite my lip to hide my smile. Carol think she knows everything, and it is clear that she doesn’t.

“Anyway,” she continues, “they are huge and all muscly and go running and all types of crazy extreme activities.”

My eyes linger on their house.

Interesting.

“They rent and don’t really involve themselves with us. The boys don’t like them much.”

“The boys?”

“Oh, the men on this street are all tight. They hang out together.”

“What men?”

“Well, next door to you on one side lives Henley James.”

“What’s he like?” I act clueless.

“Beautiful man.” She leans in and lowers her voice. “Owns a huge engineering company, very successful.”

“Is he?” I nod as I listen. “What’s his wife like?”

“He’s not married. Although every woman he meets falls madly in love with him.”

Ugh . . .

“I see.”

“And then in the white house on the other side of you is Bennet Stark.”

“What’s he like?”

“He’s some IT whizzbang, develops apps or something.” She shrugs. “It’s all well over my head, but he’s the bee’s knees at what he does apparently. He’s single too. Actually, I think he’s got a girlfriend now. There’s a strange car there at night sometimes.”

“Oh, I see.” I look around the small cul-de-sac. There seems to be a lot of men who live here. Chloe is going to be so jealous when she finds out that Blake Grayson is one of them.