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

by Annah Conwell

I gasp. “That looks like an antique end table!” My knees shift on the cushion beneath me as I try to get a better look at what he’s carrying. Murphy lets out a low but loud ruff when the blinds rustle. The man’s head whips toward my house and I squeak, falling down onto the couch. The brown plaid skirt I’m wearing flops up with the movement and I quickly jerk it down as if the mysterious neighbor can see me through my walls. Murphy huffs from his dog bed and I roll my head over to look at him. “Don’t judge me. You know Peach Hollow never gets any new people. I’m desperate to talk to someone below the age of seventy-five.” Murphy seems unaffected by my plight for youthful human interaction. It’s my own fault, really. I chose Peach Hollow because it embodied safety and peace at a time I needed it most. At the time I didn’t care that there were no people my age, except the occasional grandkids who visited. I just cared about being in an environment opposite of what I was in before. Now, years later, I work from home running my Etsy business selling invitation templates and stationery …. and have no friends. None. Well, except my best friend Caroline. She lives hundreds of miles away though, so we only see each other through video chat. I could move, but the thought of starting over again scares me, so here I stay, bored and in dire need of conversation.