Single Dad Next Door: A Fake Marriage Romance

She looks up when I’m only a few steps away.

“Reid…” she says slowly. Her tone says it all. It’s a placating tone, like she has been planning what she would say to try to calm me down. She knew exactly who lived next door when she decided to move here. How could she not? She’s been best friends with Tara since long before I even met Tara. She’s also the one Tara moved in with after the divorce. Her old place was just a few miles away on the other end of town.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I demand.

She crosses her arms, eyes flashing with anger. I can’t help noticing how the motion pushes her full tits up. I never paid much attention to her before because I could write a book on the reasons she’s wrong for me, hell, I could write a few books. I don’t need books to tell me why I should keep my distance from Sandra. Two words are good enough. Off limits. Simple as that.

“I’m moving into my house. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Like hell it isn’t,” I say. I half-turn, pointing to my house and shop that are less than fifty yards away. “Your business just came and took a huge shit all over my business.”

The anger in her eyes falters briefly when they flick down to my bare chest and stomach. She sucks in a sharp breath and looks away and then back once more. “Can you put a shirt on or something?”

“Sure. As soon as you pack your shit up and leave, I’ll put a shirt on. ‘Til then, I’ll walk around butt ass fucking naked if I want to.”

“Look, Reid. I don’t want trouble. It was time for me to get my own place. Tara and...“ she winces, like she was about to say something she shouldn’t have.

“Tara and what?” I ask. Stepping close and lowering my voice dangerously.

“Forget it. It’s not my place to tell you.”

Tara and...? I could give two shits about what she does or who she fucks. The only thing I care about is that she still gets Roman on the weekends. If she’s seeing somebody, I need to know he’s safe to be around my son.

I clench my fists. She’s not going to pack up and move just because I told her to. I knew as much. The point is that she gets the message to stay out of my business. “Keep your fucking distance and we’ll get along fine.”

She sighs, shaking her head in disbelief. “I don’t think that will be a problem, Reid. Can I get back to moving in now?”

I scoff. “Yeah. You do that.”

I storm back into the garage and have to tamp down the urge to break something. I won’t lose control while Roman is watching, though. If there’s one thing I can do for him, it’s teach him to be a better man than I am. I may fuck everything else up in my life, but I won’t fuck that up. Not a chance. My son deserves better.

I think back to the defiant way Sandra talked to me. Even though I only want to be pissed at her, I can’t help also remembering how good she looks. Women with a little fire always tempt me. Maybe it’s the challenge. I don’t pretend to understand it. All I know is I need to lose that thought, and fast. Tara and I are history. And the truth is I only stayed with her because of Roman. To say he was unplanned is putting it mildly. A condom must’ve broken and we didn’t realize. Once I knew she was pregnant, I sucked up my pride and did the right thing. I planned to stay with her and give him the family he deserves. I was willing to put up with her shit if it meant we could give him a good life, but she had other plans.

Even so, making a move on her best friend would be dirty and low. Sandra’s not my type, anyway. I’m not interested. Sandra’s parents are old school blue bloods, and she probably gets the world handed to her on a golden spoon studded with diamonds. I don’t have time or energy to deal with a pampered woman who thinks the world should bend to her will.

Fuck that, and fuck her.





2





Sandra





I’m still seething from my run-in with Reid. Reid freaking Riggins and his stupidly hot body. I can’t stop seeing the way he looked with the sunlight highlighting every single line of his chiseled torso. The way his dirty hands left smeared fingerprints down his chest and abs was distracting, to say the least. All I have to do to push that image from my head is to remind myself what an asshole he is.

He was never exactly Mr. Social, even when he and Tara were dating and later married. He seems happiest tucked underneath a car, covered in grease and grime. I may have briefly had a crush on him when he moved here to live with his grandpa during high school. The rumor was that his mother passed away from complications giving birth to his little brother, and then later their father died from heart disease. We were sophomores and he was the new, mysterious senior with the sinfully hot body and a face like he just hopped out of a GQ magazine. My fascination with him faded pretty much as soon as I got to know him, though.

Reid Riggins has, and always will be arrogant, selfish, and abrasive. He’s not my type in the slightest. To be honest, the fact that this house is next door to his was the only thing holding me back from buying it. The price was ridiculously good because it’s been on the market for so long and needs fixing up. I needed a new place and the price was right. Tara started dating Reid’s brother, a fact which I almost let slip to Reid earlier. She talked me into letting him stay with her every once in awhile, which pretty quickly turned into all day, every day.

Needless to say, I wanted space. I may still be in the same small town I’ve always lived in, but it is time to for a fresh start. The bakery has been doing well lately, so I can afford the luxury of a little privacy and a bigger place for me and my cat, Charles.

I huff out a long, exhausted sigh and plop down on the couch, which is in the middle of the hallway right now. I hear a loud bang from outside and wince as the movers continue their apparent mission to ding, dent, or scratch every last thing I own before it comes inside the house. It may not be much, but I work hard for everything I own. Charles watches the chaos from the top of the refrigerator with a look of disinterest. I know better though, he’s loving this. I’ll be up all night from the sounds of Charles rampaging around his new domain. He just acts like an old grump by day. Just like he didn’t care when I spent a hundred dollars to buy him a six-foot-tall cat tower off Amazon. He used that tower one time. One time. And all he used it for was to pee on. At least that’s what he wanted me to think. A few weeks after I got it, I caught him in the middle of the night having the time of his life playing on it.

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