Free The Boy Next Door: A Standalone Small Town Romance (Soulmates Series Book 3) by Hazel Kelly

with.”
    I swallowed my bite of scone.
    “You see, life is short if you’re living it right,” she said.
“But if you spend your days pretending to be someone you’re not, it can feel
very long.”
    I took a sip of tea.
    “And you can take it from me because I’ve tried it both ways.”
    I wrapped my palms around the steaming cup. “Why are you telling
me this?”
    “To make sure you get it right this time around… And because it
crossed my mind, and I’m at that age where I have to say stuff when I think it or
my thoughts disappear with the fairies.”
    “Right.”
    “Speaking of which, will you do me a favor?”
    “Of course.”
    “Will you remind me I need to update my will this week?” she
asked.
    “You’re changing your will?”
    She nodded. “Just one teeny detail.”
    I raised my eyebrows. “What’s that?”
    “When I’m buried, I want your grandfather’s urn between my legs
instead of up by head.”
    I furrowed my brow. “Why?”
    “Because it’s been too damn long since he was there.”
     
     

 
    Chapter 14: Connor
     
     
     
     
    I let Sarge lick my plate and then stuck it in the dishwasher.
    He made puppy eyes at me in a bid for of another lick, but his
expression lifted again when he heard the doorbell ring.
    He ran for the front door, his paws sliding against the floor as
he rounded the corner while his tail wagged so hard I thought he might take
off.
    “Let’s hope it’s not an intruder,” I said, following after him.
“Or you’re out of a job, buddy.”
    It looked like Laney’s outline in the blurred glass, but I was worried
my mind might be playing tricks on me- like when you think you see a quarter on
the ground but it’s just a spot of gum.
    But it was her.
    “Laney.”
    “Hi.” She was holding a plate of scones covered with light pink
Saran wrap.
    Sarge wiggled out past my legs and planted his paws on her
thigh.
    “Would you like to buy a scone?” she asked, reaching a hand down
and scratching one of Sarge’s golden ears so good he pressed his face against
her leg.
    I smiled. “Depends on how much they are.”
    “One hundred dollars for the plate,” she said. “Or you can have
an apology, and I’ll throw them in for free.”
    “In that case,” I said, stepping backwards and opening the door
wider. “Allow me to make some room for the apology.”
    She stepped in the house and looked around. “Wow.”
    Sarge kept sniffing the air as if scone crumbs might fall like
snowflakes any minute.
    I closed the door, letting my eyes fall from her narrow
shoulders down to the cropped jeans that hugged her ass in a way I wished I
hadn’t noticed.
    “I’m ready,” I said when she turned around.
    She pushed some stray blonde wisps out of her face. “I want to
apologize for the way I treated you this morning.”
    “Great. Can I have the scones now?”
    “I’m being serious.”
    “So am I,” I said, noticing the simple earrings she was wearing.
I always liked that part of her just below her earlobe. The first time I
tickled that spot with my stubble was the first time I felt my stubble was good
for anything. “Besides, it’s not me you owe an apology,” I said, taking the
plate from her and walking into the kitchen.
    She followed behind me in her bare feet, losing my dog’s
attention once I had the scones. “Yes it is. I was rude. And you didn’t do
anything wrong.”
    I shook my head and pulled a scone out from under the thinly
stretched Saran wrap. “No it’s not. It’s Henry, the poor guy. I’ve felt bad for
him all day.”
    She folded her arms.
    I could tell she was trying to focus on the conversation despite
wanting to look around and see all the updates I’d made to the place. It was
modern and bright and my mom’s collection of painted plates had been replaced
by a forty inch TV.
    “I already apologized to him,” she said, standing behind a
barstool without sitting down. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
    I pulled out a small plate