To Hope Again: A Sweet Romance (Forty and Free Book 3) Read online

  She turned on some peaceful music and began to ease into the first position. As her body stretched, the windows of the living room rattled. It wasn’t hammering, or even a drill that did it. It was fierce angry music. She could barely make out the words in all the noise and screaming.

  Tension rippled through her body. She was not accustomed to such an invasion of her peaceful surroundings. Although there was no rule against loud music until after ten, she’d never experienced a neighbor who disrupted the quiet of their natural surroundings quite this way.

  Her skin prickled with irritation. There was no way she’d be able to meditate or do yoga, with that kind of noise.

  “Alright, stay calm, everything’s fine.” She stood up and climbed the stairs to go back up to her bedroom. She’d just change and leave for her walk early.

  As she grabbed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt to wear she felt uneasy. Normally, she didn’t hesitate to change in her bedroom, but with him working on the house she wasn’t sure if he might be able to see her. She changed in the bathroom instead.

  As she left the house, she saw the large radio he had positioned beside him. Even though it was almost dark, he was now hard at work chipping away the old siding on the house. It occurred to her that he must be exhausted. He’d moved in, gone for a bicycle ride, fixed the gutters, and was still hard at work. Only a few hours had passed since Jillian had seen him moving in, yet she didn’t think he’d stopped for a second to rest.

  A hint of sympathy filled her as she studied his rigid back. Something was driving him to be so determined.

  Chapter 4

  Mateo tried not to be overwhelmed. He’d already smashed three fingers with the hammer. He couldn’t focus. It was as if he was distracted by something without knowing what it was. Or maybe he just felt the need to punish himself. He deserved the wounds that the house repairs were giving him.

  He closed his eyes at the thought. Maybe he did. When he opened them again, he saw that the gutter drooped once more. He cursed a few times and slammed the hammer into a nail in an attempt to secure the gutter. Maybe the house had something against him too.

  As he drew back to hammer in another nail, he heard a sound behind him. He turned his head in the direction of it, and found himself looking into the clearest blue eyes he’d ever seen. They reminded him of ice and an expansive summer sky at the same time. It wasn’t that she was so close—there was a bit of distance between them—but the color was so intense.

  He stared into her eyes without a thought of looking away. For a few seconds it felt like he’d entered a different dimension, a place where everything he experienced was pure pleasure. All of the anger and hurt that brewed within him seemed to disappear. It was a brief loss of sanity.

  A moment later reality slammed back into him harder than ever. Obviously he was distracted because she was spying on him. No wonder he couldn’t get anything done right—what with someone watching him the entire time.

  He narrowed his eyes and turned away from her. He was relieved that she didn’t try to strike up a conversation. If it were up to him, they’d never speak. He didn’t care how stunning she was in that white gown.

  The idea that she might be beautiful only made him more angry. He craved isolation, not an awkward encounter with a strange woman—especially a woman.

  He focused on his work again. When he finished the gutter, he grabbed a few tools from the garage. As he did, his mind wandered back to the woman on the balcony.

  He gritted his teeth as the memory of looking into her eyes kept returning to his mind. His irritation mounted. No matter how he tried to push her out of his mind, those eyes kept returning to it.

  He grabbed his radio and put on one of the angriest tracks he could find. He blasted it as loud as the volume dial permitted. He wanted to drown out any distractions. Then he went to work prying off the old siding on the house.

  Every piece shredded was one step closer to escaping the pressure of owning the house. He couldn’t wait to have it gone. Then maybe he’d wander the country for a while. He could always find construction work wherever he went, to keep himself afloat.

  It sounded like a good idea to him—no attachments, no commitments, and certainly no heartbreak.

  He was about to pry off another large piece of siding when he felt a tickle along the back of his neck. He froze. There was no doubt in his mind that he was being watched. When he looked over his shoulder, he was annoyed to see the same woman he’d seen on the balcony before. She just stood a couple of feet away staring at him.

  “What?” The word popped out of his mouth before anything else could. It wasn’t polite or friendly, and he didn’t care. It was nicer than what he’d been thinking. “Is there a problem?”

  “Oh, no.” She smiled.

  He noticed the way she fidgeted with her fingertips, pulling at them with her other hand.

  “I know you’re working hard. I just thought maybe I should introduce myself.”

  He didn’t respond, but he did set down the tool he was using. He knew the introduction was inevitable. There was no point in fighting it. He turned the radio down enough so that he could hear her.

  “I’m Jillian.” She offered him her hand. “I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood. I’m sure that you’ll like it here.”

  He clenched his jaw and tried not to look into her eyes. “Mateo. Thanks, but I won’t be staying.” He turned back to the house and picked up the tool again. He was sure that would get his point across.

  “Oh, that’s too bad. It’s a wonderful place to live. Peaceful.”

  He winced and tried to keep his temper in check as he turned back around to look at her.

  She tilted her head to the side. “The lake is stunning.”

  “I bet.” He narrowed his eyes as he looked back at her. “I have to get back to work.”

  “Sure, of course. I’m just going for a walk. If you’d like, I could give you a tour of the walking paths sometime. I noticed you on your bike earlier and there are some great places to ride.”

  Her comments made him bristle even more. “Yeah, I’ve noticed you noticing me.”

  Her eyes widened. “What?”

  “I mean, I don’t know what you’re getting out of it, but I really don’t need you staring at me all the time. It’s distracting.” He turned the volume of the music back up and looked back at the house.

  His heart pounded hard. He knew he was being rude, but he didn’t care. He wanted her to leave him alone. If he made her angry, then it was more likely she’d never talk to him again. That was exactly what he wanted.

  He returned to his work without waiting to see her reaction. He expected her to yell, maybe even to curse. He was prepared for her to tell him what a terrible person he was. When none of those things happened, he stole a glance back over his shoulder.

  She was gone.

  He caught sight of her as she walked toward the lake. The wind stirred her hair. His heart skipped.

  “No.” He shook his head and ripped off another piece of siding. “Not this time, Mateo. You’re not falling for that again.”

  Chapter 5

  Jillian was left in shocked silence in reaction to her new neighbor’s words. Not only had she not expected him—Mateo, he’d said his name was—to talk to her that way, he hadn’t even given her a chance to defend herself.

  When he’d turned his music back up, she’d taken a step back, fighting her instinct to argue with him. She wanted to point out that she had no interest in watching him, that he needed to consider the fact that he had neighbors and turn down his music, but she hadn’t.

  Instead, she’d turned and walked away. She’d learned never to engage a man like him. He was angry with a capital A, and she had no patience for that.

  One of her earliest boyfriends had had a similar attitude. She’d begun dating him not long after her parents had died. She thought he could help her to heal—that he’d help her to see that there were still things in life to look for
ward to. Instead, all the passion that had attracted her to him had turned out to be his need to control and possess her.

  He had isolated her from her friends and family at a time when she’d needed their support the most. It had been her introduction to love, and it had left scars that had taken her years to heal from.

  Since then, she’d learned to choose her partners carefully. Though she’d never married, she’d had many wonderful relationships. She’d learned to focus on whether she and a partner had a true connection, instead of attraction only.

  Sometimes it was perfect, sometimes less so, but either way the relationships tended to end within a year. That was about the time when each of those boyfriends had become restless and started mentioning marriage.

  It wasn’t that Jillian didn’t want to get married; she simply hadn’t met someone that she could imagine spending the rest of her life with. Maybe that was for the best.

  In her work as a life coach, she’d seen many marriages fall apart. In fact, she was currently coaching a woman who’d gone through such a traumatic divorce that she’d all but given up on love. It was a difficult case for Jillian as on one hand, she wanted to encourage the woman to have hope, and on the other she wondered if she might just be right about love.

  She followed a path that she’d walked many times. The lake was surrounded by sprigs of wildflowers and different types of trees. To her, it felt like walking into another world—a place far from the rush of society.

  With the subtle sparkle of the stars above her, she could almost ignore the music that still blasted from Mateo’s house. She paused beside a large tree and leaned against the bark. As she stared out across the still water, she felt it again—a nagging ache, as if she was drawn to something without knowing what it was.

  Though she could count on one hand the things that she didn’t like about life, that ache remained. It was strong enough that she knew it wouldn’t disappear any time soon.

  She walked back to her house with her shoulders rounded. If she could only get in some meditation, she might be able to figure out what the source of her angst was.

  Unfortunately, the music was still loud when she reached her door. Mateo was nowhere to be seen, but she knew that he was there somewhere. She decided that instead of fighting to meditate, she’d just turn in early.

  By the next morning all would be quiet. She was sure of it.

  The next morning Jillian awoke determined to have a good day. She set her intentions, did a few deep cleansing breaths, and then took a warm shower.

  When she emerged from the shower, she felt like a new person and was sure all of the stress of the day before would be gone. It was quiet—no music, no hammering.

  She decided to take advantage of the quiet and fit in some meditation. She skipped the white gown and settled on to the windowsill. As she closed her eyes, the music began. Not as angry as the day before, but still quite distracting.

  She decided to break one of her rules and use earplugs along with a sounds-of-the-sea mix. As the waves rushed over her senses, she began to settle into a calmer state.

  About that time, the drill began to scream. She could hear it clearly, despite having the Atlantic Ocean blasting in her ears. She set her jaw, deciding that she needed a new approach. He couldn’t possibly know that she was trying to meditate, so how could she blame him for interrupting her? Neighbors had to learn to work together.

  She headed off to town to pick up a few things.

  When she returned, the music was still going. She dropped off a few things in her house, then grabbed the bottle of wine that she’d purchased, along with two wineglasses.

  As she crossed the distance between the two houses, she reminded herself to be open and courteous. There was no need to attack. Surely once Mateo understood that she needed just a little quiet time, he’d be happy to accommodate her.

  She paused in front of the door and knocked twice. A friendly smile rose to her lips as he opened the door.

  He stared at her for a moment.

  It crossed her mind that he might close the door in her face. Instead he stepped through it.

  “Yes?”

  “I wanted to welcome you properly.” She held up the bottle of wine. “I hope that you like red.”

  He looked from her to the bottle of wine and then away again.

  “Okay. Thank you.” He reached for the wine.

  Jillian moved around him and stepped into the house.

  “Hey, wait a minute, this isn’t a good time.”

  She noticed that the majority of his things were still packed in boxes. What should have been the living room hadn’t been arranged yet. The furniture was pushed up against the wall and boxes were taking up the rest of the room. On one wall, a large photograph frame leaned up against it. It had two brass letters intertwined at the top—K and M—but the place where photographs should have been were just empty glass.

  She turned back to Mateo and held up one of the wineglasses. “I thought maybe we could talk for a minute.”

  He reached over and turned off the music. When he looked back at her, his brow was furrowed with displeasure. “I didn’t invite you in.”

  “Oh?” She blinked. “How rude of me. I just assumed. It will only take a minute.”

  “I don’t want any wine.”

  “Okay, that’s fine.” She smiled.

  He watched her from a distance.

  She felt a little uneasy as he moved away from her. Maybe it had been too bold of her to step inside, but she didn’t want to give him the opportunity to shut her out before she’d had the chance to say what she wanted to say.

  “I’m not sure if you’re aware of just how easily sound travels around here—with the open space and the water. I know that you have a lot on your plate, and I certainly don’t want to interfere with that. I was hoping that you might be able to give me an idea of your schedule, so that I could work my own around yours.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “So this is wine with an ulterior motive?”

  “Not exactly. I know that moving can be hard—and frustrating. I thought you might want to relax—take a little break.”

  “My music is bothering you? The drill?” He continued to watch her with no expression to indicate how he might be feeling.

  “It’s not that it bothers me, really—it’s just that I practice meditation and that requires a certain level of quiet. Honestly, I have no problem working around your schedule—if you could give me some idea of when a good quiet time might be for you?” She smiled as bright as she could.

  Chapter 6

  Mateo was just in the process of carrying some boxes up the stairs when there was a knock on the door. He wanted to ignore it. He wanted more than anything just to be left alone, but when he saw her face—Jillian, she’d said her name was—through the window beside the door, he guessed that she wasn’t going to give up easily. He gritted his teeth and opened the door.

  The moment he looked into her eyes the anger built. He didn’t want to open the door all the way, but she managed to slip past him. Here she was again to disrupt him with her optimistic smile and perky nature. It made him think that she might just be living on a different planet.

  “I don’t have a schedule.” He gripped the neck of the bottle of wine tighter. “I work when I work.”

  “Don’t you think you could give me some idea of when you might take a break? Say for lunch?”

  “I sleep at night.” He cocked his eyebrow. “Sometimes.”

  “Good point.” She smiled again. He did his best not to point out that she smiled way too much. “But meditation isn’t really effective if you sleep through it.”

  “Is it ever?” He leaned back against the wall. “Isn’t it just a bunch of mumbo jumbo and wasted time?”

  She froze. He watched the tension course through her body. It was clear that he’d hit a sore spot.

  “Meditation has helped me get through some very difficult times in my life. Of course, everyone is entitled to th
eir opinion.” She met his eyes.

  He saw a shadow in her expression as her smile faded just a little, and the light in her eyes dimmed.

  “Difficult times? Like what? A shortage of yoga pants?” He smirked. In the back of his mind he was aware that he was being unnecessarily cruel. But he didn’t care. He wanted her to be angry. He wanted her to get the point that he needed to be left alone.

  “I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “This was a mistake.”

  “Yes, it was.” He opened the door for her. “Want your wine back?” He held it out to her.

  “No, I have a feeling you could use it.” She met his eyes again, but only briefly. “If you could try to keep the noise down, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Sorry, I don’t plan to. The music—it drowns out the annoyance I feel from having a nosy neighbor watching me all the time.” He narrowed his eyes. “But don’t worry. I only plan to be here for a few months, then you can meditate your yoga pants off.”

  She stared at him for a long moment.

  He braced himself. He was sure she was going to threaten to call the police or maybe rain down wicked karma on him. Instead, she only nodded and stepped out through the door.

  He held tight to the wine bottle as he closed the door behind her. His body weight pushed it the rest of the way closed as he leaned back against it. An ache carried through his chest. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was regret. He didn’t really care what it was. All that mattered was that she was gone.

  He stared across the living room at the empty photograph frame. He never should have brought it, but it had cost him two hundred dollars to have it custom made. That might not have been a lot to most people, but to him at the time, it was.

  He’d bought it because she’d wanted it. He bought it because she was proud of their relationship and wanted it displayed for everyone to see. As far as he knew, Kate had already burned the photographs that used to be in it.