But He's My Grumpy Neighbor (But He's a Carter Brother #1)

by Annah Conwell

All my life, I’ve been the observer. But Juliette… she made me feel like I was on the other side of the magnifying glass for once. All the more reason to keep her at a distance. I don’t need to be friends with some innocent but curious woman.

Does she always look this unbelievably soft?

“I wanted to fix my mistake,” she says, and I hate how her tone has changed but I hate even more that it bothers me. Earlier she sounded like a rushing waterfall, gushing and bubbling with life. Now, she’s flat as the ground beneath us. “But if that would make you more upset, I understand. I’m sorry.”

It’s good that she thinks less of you, I try to tell myself. That way, neither of us can get hurt. Trusting someone new isn’t an option.

gape at him behind his back. Why does he have to like tea? He’s gorgeous, dresses like the men on my fantasy life Pinterest boards, has antique furniture, and likes tea. If he wasn’t so ornery, I’d think he was my future husband.

What would I say if he asked me why I was mad at him? I’m upset because you refused to let me pick up the trash in your driveway and also your commanding voice made my knees weak. Yeah, that wouldn’t make me sound weird at all. “Sure

Poppy passes him a rag and he crosses the small shop in quick strides. When he kneels down beside me my breath catches. “Here, this should help.” His hands are gentle as he dabs at the red skin with the cool cloth. “I’m okay,” I murmur, but he continues his ministration, his brow furrowed. “Really, I think I was just caught off guard. The tea wasn’t that hot.” “You should keep the cloth on your hand,” he says in a low voice. “But you’re right, it doesn’t look too bad.” He drapes the rag over my hand, then pushes up to standing. “Thank you.”

Her honey-blonde hair is radiant today, bathed in the sunlight cascading through the windowpane. Like everything about Juliette, it looks incredibly soft. It took every ounce of my self-control earlier to not touch her skin while handling her burn. I shouldn’t have gotten up at all, but pure instinct took over when I saw the flash of pain in her bright green eyes.

I’m used to blending into the background and being careful enough to observe from a distance. My job required it. But Juliette seems to have this uncanny ability to make me stumble.

A car rolls past at a snail’s pace and I step behind Juliette then to the right, switching sides with her. Protective instincts, nothing more. I’d do this with any woman walking beside me. Juliette

He's in denial

I’m honestly surprised she’s gone this long in silence. I’ve not had many interactions with her, but all of them have been filled with words.

“You flinched when he said your name.” It’s a risk to let her know I was watching her so closely, but I can’t help the desire to satisfy my curiosity.

I bite back a smile at her rambling story. Usually I find people who talk this much to be overbearing, but Juliette is different. She makes oversharing … endearing.

She laughs and it’s like the first day of spring after a harsh winter, bright and hopeful and sweet.

She smiles in that secretive way again, the kind that makes me feel like she knows something I don’t, before turning and walking to her door. My eyes trail over her, the delicate curve of her hip, her black tights stretched over her legs.

Being around Juliette is like keeping a candy jar on your desk: you know you shouldn’t reach for more, but it’s right there, taunting you. Every interaction with her ends up with me doing something out of character. I need to stay away, but it’s difficult when she lives barely ten feet away from me.

A family of ducks paddles across the water, making me think of Juliette. I pass a couple sharing a croissant, my mind drawn once more to Juliette. Growling, I pick up my pace again. No matter how much I push my body though, Juliette’s laugh won’t leave my brain. In fact, I think she’s made me delusional because I swear I hear it over the whipping wind.

“So you looked for me on your run, then.” Her eyes sparkle. “I merely noted my surroundings.”

“Well, I’m going to go,” I say, hating how awkward I sound. I’m not an awkward man. A little adverse to socializing, but not awkward.

Growing up in a home full of chaos and uncertainty will do that to you. Suddenly you know your mother’s emotions by the way she grips her coffee cup, and your father’s mood by the sound of his footsteps on the stairs. When no one communicates effectively, you pick up other methods of discernment.

And I used that knowledge to make myself as small of a target as possible.

Grayson falls onto the leather couch to the right of my desk and splays himself out. He has no concern for the amount of space he takes up with his body or his personality.

Doesn’t it bother you that your most effective threat is your own presence?” He throws the ball in the air and catches it. “Nope. I know the real problem is not my personality, but that you’re unsociable.”

I wanted to do more than talk when I looked down at her, that’s for sure. But getting close to Juliette would be a mistake. Trusting anyone but family has always been a mistake for me.

Her blonde hair resembles spun gold and it’s a breathtaking view. I’m once again struck by how soft and sweet she looks. Her head turns and I’ve been caught staring. The sunny grin she gives me makes my heart give an odd thump in my chest.

Murphy stirs, lifting his head and plopping it onto her legs. She pats him with an unguarded affection that warms my chest. There’s a lot of mystery surrounding Juliette, but even so, moments like this soften me toward her.

It makes me want to do anything to get her to smile like that again, to hear her inject pure kindness into my name in a way I don’t think anyone else has. My jaw clenches. I shouldn’t be having these thoughts.

She’s always so beautiful. Every version I’ve seen of her is soft and lovely in a way that makes me want to pull her close. I hate how effortlessly she’s slipped into my mind. My resolve should be much stronger than this.

My heart squeezes painfully in my chest at the thought of hurting her feelings.

“I brought you something.” I hold up a bag of cookies. “Maverick owns a bakery and I remembered you mentioning you like chocolate, so I brought you chocolate chip cookies.”

Her eyes crinkle up at the edges as her smile widens even more. She’s too sweet, too pure.

There’s a grocery cart with a few bags inside of it near the car, and his trunk is open. He dropped what he was doing to come to my aid. My chest warms. I murmur a quiet thanks when he opens the passenger door for me.

She laughs again and I can’t help the small smile that comes at the sound. She’s got this infectious laugh that almost insists on you joining in.

It’s annoying how good he is. And even more annoying how off Juliette makes me.

cannot let myself feel anything more than friendship with Juliette. Nothing romantic of any kind. She has too many secrets and I don’t know how to trust someone enough to love them. It would be a disaster, I remind myself.

doesn’t see me that way.” “Are you sure? He is here after all. I’m willing to bet he only showed up because it would make you smile.”

“You’re the best, Sunshine,” she says and I give her a flat look. It’s all I can do to hold back the smile that threatens to take hold when she calls me that. I should hate it–if anyone else said it I would–but for some reason it brings me this warm feeling whenever I hear it. Having a nickname from Juliette is a solid, real thing that shows I have a place in her life. And while I’m afraid of what having a place might look like in the future, it still feels good to have one.

She grabs my hand to stop me, laughing. “Please, have mercy on my poor lungs,” she begs in a dramatic tone. Her hand is cold in mine, but the touch sends tingles of awareness up my arm. “Fine, but only because your hand feels like a block of ice.”

I should say no. I’ll be late for work if I agree. But one look into Juliette’s forest-green eyes has my reservations melting away like frost in the afternoon sun.

I’m gifted one of her beaming smiles before we start off toward her house.

The kindness in her voice breaks me.

I miss her touch as soon as it’s gone.

There’s no reason for me to want anything different with Juliette, but sitting here in her house that feels more like a home than my own makes me question my own reservations. It makes me want to get to know her more.

She looks innocent, but the way she observes people isn’t natural. And now she’s being purposefully vague about a simple topic. Something isn’t adding up and I worked in the world of secrets for too long not to notice it.

“Aw, Sunshine, you shouldn’t have.” I take the paper bag from him with a smile. He shrugs. “I thought it would make you smile.”

Relief seeps into my bones. I always feel safe when Adrian is around, so I’ll get to walk home without paranoia chipping away at the edges of my mind.

“You told me you felt safe with me.” His voice is low and it sends goosebumps across my skin. “I do,” I whisper. The moment feels heavy, holding something I can’t quite name within it. Everything is quiet, even the ducks Mr. Kipton scolds aren’t making a sound.

“New rule: don’t apologize so much. It’s okay to be nervous.”

“Sorry,” I say again and then cringe. The look he gives me is soft though, easing the pain that usually comes when I mess up around someone else. “It’s okay.”

Yes, even if tomorrow isn’t a tornado of awkward, it’s going to be torturous nonetheless because Adrian won’t be by my side. And I’ve come to like it far too much when he is.