Overview
Jeremy's not about to let a few numbers get between him and the woman he's dreamed of since high school. Can Mrs Valentine do the same?
Jeremy Callahan has been in love with his next door neighbour, Miranda Valentine, since he was fifteen years old. As a teen, he used to watch her, fantasising about how he could make her his. But he never acted on it. Miranda was older, married, and out of his league. Forced to return home ten years later after being injured on a photo shoot, all those old feelings return, and this time there's no reason to keep them at bay. She might be a decade older than he is, but Jeremy's not about to let a few numbers stand in his way.
Since her husband's death, Miranda has been left with a big hole in her life. Never able to fulfill her dream of becoming a mom, she isn't sure what to do with herself. She certainly didn't expect to find the most gorgeous man she's ever met next door. She can't believe Jeremy Callahan is that sexy younger man, or that he's had a crush on her for years. When he kisses her, all bets are off. Jeremy's young, handsome and makes her feel more than anyone has ever before.
But she knows he can't want the same things she does. Surely he isn't ready to settle down and start a family, but she's running out of time. Will her dream of being a mother keep her from the man she loves? Or can they find some middle ground where they can both get everything they desire?
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781784301156 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Totally Entwined Group |
| Publication date: | 08/08/2014 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 57 |
| File size: | 537 KB |
About the Author
Willa Edwards has dreamed about being a writer since she was four years old. When she picked up her first romance novel at fifteen she knew she'd found her place and she's never looked back.
She now lives in New York, where she works with numbers at her Evil Day Job and spends her nights writing red-hot tales of erotic romance. When she's not at her computer, you can usually find her curled up in bed with her two furry babies, her nose pressed to her ereader.
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
"You need to get out of there, buddy," Brett declared.
Jeremy huffed into the phone. He didn't need his best friend to tell him that. He'd been back in his childhood bedroom for three weeks now, while the damn bone in his leg healed. Being waited on by his mom, unable to even leave the house, was driving him stir-crazy. After years of moving from place to place searching out the next great photo, sitting still was taking a serious toll on his mental state.
"Are you offering to let me stay at your place?"
"Fuck no. I like you, dude, but not that much." Brett chuckled into the phone. "I'm not giving you a sponge bath."
They both laughed. Best friends since elementary school, they'd done a lot for each other, but they had their limits.
"I can bathe myself, dude." It required a plastic garbage bag and a few strips of duct tape, but he could do it. "I'm not that handicapped. I just couldn't get up and down the stairs to my place." His third-floor walkup in the city had seemed cool and Bohemian before his injury. Once he healed, he'd be looking for a new apartment in a high rise with a doorman and an elevator. Maybe a condo in a neighborhood that would be good for families.
He'd been thinking a lot about the future since his injury, not that he'd admit it to his buddy. Maybe it was the staying still, or maybe it was the injury itself, but the call of the road had tamed down to a gentle breeze. The idea of coming home to someone was starting to sound appealing. If it was the right person.
"Isn't there somewhere you can go for a little while? Just for a break." Papers rustling echoed over the phone.
Brett must be at work. The man worked from dawn to midnight some nights. Not that Jeremy could say much. He put in a lot of hours at his job too. But at least it wasn't in an office.
Jeremy knocked his fist against the cast on his right foot. "Can't drive with this thing, and I won't get far walking." All he could do was sit and think. About everywhere he'd been and where he might be going next. He'd never been much of a thinker. He was a doer. Whenever he'd seen what he wanted, he'd gone after it. Now, all he could do was spin his mind in circles.
"There's got to be something you can do," his friend declared.
But the words didn't register with Jeremy. All he heard was the slam of a door. He stilled. His heart sped up and his cock perked to attention. It was a sound he knew well. A sound he'd waited for so often as a teenager and had now begun to anticipate each night since returning home. It was one of the few joys he'd had since he'd been stuck back in his childhood bedroom.
Next door, Mrs Valentine, the school librarian and the star of his every adolescent fantasy and most of his adult ones, had shut her front door. He held his breath, waiting for her to walk through the house to her bedroom that stood across the small twenty-foot lawn from his own.
"Mrs Valentine's home," he whispered, even though, logically, he knew she couldn't hear him through the walls of two houses.
"Are you fucking kidding me, dude? Mrs Valentine?"
Brett groaned, and Jeremy understood his pain. Just the thought of Mrs Valentine had Jeremy's balls tightening and his dick hard.
"You were always the luckiest shit in school to live next to her." Brett's voice rumbled in his ear.
The sound distracted Jeremy — momentarily — from the beautiful sight before him. Jeremy wasn't the only one who'd had a crush on the school librarian.
He waited with bated breath as she walked into her room then shut the door behind her. Mrs Valentine always changed as soon as she got home from the library, switching from her pumps, tight pencil skirts and curve-hugging button-down blouses, into more relaxed sweats or jeans.
And he got a front-row seat for the action. As a teen, it had been one of his favorite times of day. As an adult, it was starting to become the same. Thank God the woman had never discovered blinds.
She stepped into the middle of the room, her tiny bare feet curled into the plush carpet. Standing in front of the dresser mirror, she dropped her hands to her chest, her nimble fingers unbuttoning her shirt. The pale color was perfect against her exotic caramel complexion. Each released button showed off a new inch of flesh. Even from his vantage point across the yard, her skin looked soft and kissable.
Nothing about Mrs Valentine had changed in the ten years he'd been away. Not her habits, her figure or her ability to strike him deaf, dumb and blind with her beauty.
She tossed the white shirt to the floor. She slid her hands behind her to unbutton her skirt, thrusting her chest forward, her ample breasts threatening to overflow from her white-laced bra. The very edge of one nipple almost escaped the frilly trim, tempting him to insanity. She twisted the skirt around her waist, released the zipper then pushed the fabric down her full hips — hips that would be just the right size to hold onto as he pounded into her from behind. From this angle, he couldn't see her ass but he knew it was plump and round. The kind of ass he'd always loved. He'd do almost anything for the opportunity to explore those hills and valleys.
The skirt dropped to her feet and she stepped out of it. Her matching white-laced bikini panties were cut high, showing off even more of her shapely legs. Mrs Valentine was five three, barely reaching his shoulder, but he'd always liked that about her. Her small, curvy frame was perfect for him to hold, to protect, to love.
His cock thickened further in his sweat pants. He fought back a groan, not wanting to share the noise with his best friend. He'd forgotten how hard it was to watch from afar and not be able to touch her. In the years he'd been gone, being allowed to touch a woman hadn't been a problem. There were very few women he'd met who he couldn't charm, either with his handsome but still boyish good looks or with his exciting and prestigious profession. Though he'd never found the right woman.
In his life, there must have been other women he'd been unable to seduce. There certainly must have been a few others in high school. He hadn't started working out until college. And he hadn't discovered how appealing women found being photographed until a few years into his profession. But the only one he remembered was Mrs Valentine.
"How's the view?"
He held the phone tight to his mouth as he rose then limped around the corner. He hid behind the faded Spiderman curtains his mom planned to take down but hadn't gotten around to yet. At least they offered some protection from Mrs Valentine's view. He'd hate for her to find him watching her.
Jeremy smiled, straightening his stance for an even better view. "Just as good as ever."
It may have been ten years, but Mrs Valentine looked as amazing as she always had.
As a teenager, he hadn't realized the invasion of privacy it was to spy on her, to see her in her states of semi undress, even if she allowed it by never closing her curtains. Now he was old enough to know better. But he couldn't make himself look away. He made a career of capturing the most beautiful visions on Earth, and he couldn't avert his eyes from the most gorgeous creation he'd ever seen, no matter how wrong it might be.
Mrs Valentine had taught him the most important lesson of his life. If someone stayed quiet and still long enough, he would see the most glorious sights. It was a skill he used every day in his career. His editor was always amazed by how Jeremey managed to get the best shots, even from his first days on the job. Jeremy didn't care if he had to wait in a mud puddle for three days to get the perfect photo of a sunset over a pack of sleeping lions, he'd do it. It was a skill that had rewarded him well, making him a highly paid nature photographer in record time. For that, he had Mrs Valentine to thank.
She wrapped her hands around her neck, finding the clasp to her necklace and pulling the delicate chain away from her throat. The small diamond rose from the valley of her cleavage. He'd kill to be that necklace, warm from her skin, tucked between her gorgeous breasts.
Stepping forward, she bent over to place the necklace on her dresser, showing off the smooth expanse of her back and the curve of her spine. What he wouldn't give to be able to explore each one of her vertebrae while she was leaning like that. First he'd run his fingers down the scale, then kiss each one, and finally lick that delectable path up and down until she shivered and moaned for more. Then he'd press into her from behind and give her everything she needed, everything they wanted.
She pulled open the top dresser drawer and removed a pair of light pink shorts and a matching tank. Stepping into the shorts, she then tugged the fabric on over her round, bitable ass. The thin sweat material clung to her curves, detailing every inch of her body. Jeremy bit his tongue, the coppery taste of blood tainting his taste buds, as she dragged on the just-as-thin-and-tight tank top.
The tops of her breasts peeked out over the low neckline. His mouth watered. All he could think of was running his tongue along that valley until she cried out his name. God, he'd do anything for her, anything to make her happy. She needed more happiness in her life.
"Damn, I wish I was there to see her too." Brett's voice interrupted his fantasy, yanking him back to reality.
Jeremy swallowed hard. An irrational jealousy and possessiveness billowed up inside him. When he was a teenager, he'd let some of the other boys come over to look into the Valentines' bedroom, but always when he knew the Valentines wouldn't be home. He couldn't stomach the idea of his friends staring at Mrs Valentine.
Even though they'd wanted to do the same thing he was doing now, it felt different. His friends had always spoken crassly about her, talking of what they wanted to do to her, or themselves, as they watched her.
He cherished Mrs Valentine. He worshiped her. He wanted to give her pleasure, make her smile, hold her when she cried, be there to support her during the long hours her husband had left her alone. Her beauty was only the tip of the iceberg. There was so much more to her that the other boys never saw.
Next door, she pulled the barrette from her hair. Mrs Valentine shook her head. Her shiny dark curls twirled around her heart-shaped face, then fell to just below her shoulders. The waves framed her round cheeks, her blue eyes all the more stunning in contrast. He'd love to run his fingers through her hair. To discover how soft and springy it was beneath his touch.
She smiled at herself in the mirror, just a small, slight curve of her lips as she checked herself out in the glass, but the gesture was so genuine, so sweet, it set his heart pumping. His dick hardened to an iron rod.
"I need to get out of here," he grumbled into his cell. He gripped the phone so tightly the plastic creaked in his hand.
"Dude, hang tight. I'll come by this weekend. I'll get you out for a bit."
"Thanks, buddy." Jeremy's gaze remained on the window next door where his exquisite neighbor had stood in all her glory. His cock ached, desperate for her touch.
It was going to be a long few days till Brett could visit and distract him. But at least he had visions of Mrs Valentine to keep him company until then.
CHAPTER 2The next day, Miranda dropped her purse on the entryway table, slipping her pumps off beside the console. It was Friday, finally. All she wanted was to change into her sweats and lounge around the house for the rest of the night. But she had to run over to the Callahans' first.
After all they'd done for her during her husband Leo's illness and since his death, the least she could do was bring over her famous mocha fudge Bundt cake and offer to help in any way she could. She knew how difficult it could be to take care of a sick family member. Cindy Callahan had been so understanding and supportive throughout Leo's entire bout with lymphoma and the months afterward, coming to check on her, dropping off food and helping her with thank-you notes. There was nothing she wouldn't do to pay them back. True, Jeremy's injury wasn't life-threatening, but still, a little extra chocolate never hurt anyone's ails.
She walked into the kitchen, grabbed the Tupperware container filled with more chocolate calories than she'd consumed in three years, then headed next door. The neighborhood was quiet this time of night, the streets almost empty. Everyone must be at home eating dinner together. The cul-de-sac was comprised mostly of families. Any other hour than dinnertime, the streets were filled with kids riding bikes, playing hockey or skipping rope. It was why she and Leo had purchased a house in this community. They'd thought it was a great place to raise their children. Unfortunately, those dreams hadn't materialized.
She hastily climbed the porch steps then balanced the cake in one hand while pushing the doorbell with her left index finger. If she was lucky, the Callahans would be in the middle of dinner and she could just drop off the cake and head back home. She was already looking forward to settling down in front of the television to watch the latest romantic comedy Netflix had sent her, something about finding love in the wilds of Africa. That and the carton of ice cream that wouldn't be taking up space in her freezer for much longer.
The door slid open and one of the most gorgeous men she'd ever seen stood in the doorway. His dark hair was cut short. His chocolate-colored eyes focused on her and she swallowed. He looked at her with such intensity her skin tingled. His red T-shirt clung to a chiseled chest, and a pair of dark sweats bunched up around the cast molded to his right leg.
"Jeremy?" This couldn't be little Jeremy Callahan standing before her. The man holding the door open was very different from the boy who had left home.
But he has to be. How many men could the Callahans have wandering around their house with a broken leg?
He smiled at her with the same boyish grin he'd given her that first morning she and Leo had moved into the neighborhood. She still remembered him in his driveway playing basketball with one of his buddies a few weeks before his first days of high school.
Jeremy had always been tall, but as a kid he'd been skinny and lanky. He'd definitely grown into his height. His chest was now broad and solid. His biceps flexed as he released the doorknob and crossed his arms over his chest. Even his waist was thick with muscle, the kind that would be defined beneath that red T-shirt.
"Hi, Mrs Valentine."
She cleared her throat, gripping the cake container a little tighter in her sweaty hands. "Please, Jeremy. You're not in school anymore. You don't have to call me Mrs Valentine. Miranda is fine."
"Okay. Hi, Miranda."
She liked the sound of her name on his lips. It took her a second to realize she'd never heard him say it before. He'd always been a very polite boy, always respectful. But she was starting to like the man a lot better.
"Well, I ... uh, made this for you and your folks. Just a little I-hope-you-feel-better cake." She handed the dessert to Jeremy, forcing herself to stop rambling.
He grabbed the Tupperware container with quick hands that looked much bigger than they used to.
"Thank you." He glanced down at the Bundt cake. "Is this mocha fudge?"
She nodded.
"Good. I always loved that cake." He leaned forward a little, as though to tell her a secret, his mouth moving toward hers.
His woodsy, masculine smell wafted to her across the space between them. His heat and strong presence calling to her like a moth to a flame.
"I've always had quite a sweet tooth." He grinned at her.
Miranda's mind flashed to what else he could do with those teeth. Those lips. That mouth.
"I hope you enjoy it." She shook her head, attempting to refocus her thoughts to the task at hand instead of the inappropriate direction they'd been wandering. "If you need anything else —"
"I could use a break from this place," he interjected with a nod toward the living room behind him. "My mom means well, but it would be great to have some time away from my third grade baseball trophy and talking about all my old friends who have moved away."
Miranda paused, unsure what to do. It seemed rude to tell him no, but it had been a long time since she'd had a man in her house, alone. And Jeremy was definitely a man now. Though she doubted the rest of the neighborhood would see it that way. "I don't ..."
"Please?" He looked down at her, his warm eyes begging for his escape.
She swallowed beneath his stare. Her throat tightened and her mouth dried up like a desert. No woman could say no to those puppy dog eyes, least of all her.
"You'd be doing me the biggest favor," he urged. "I'd owe you."
Her heart sped up a bit at his suggestion. Visions formed before her eyes of how she could use that favor. Visions that were far from neighborly and not at all how she should think about little Jeremy next door.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Valentine Next Door"
by .
Copyright © 2014 Willa Edwards.
Excerpted by permission of Totally Entwined Group Limited.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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