A little while later, after I ate and cleared my mess, I began to go through the single box I’d grabbed before leaving the dock. I was searching for my iPod and docking station, fairly certain I’d thrown them in this particular box last night.
I found both items, and set them up on the coffee table in the living room. Then I lay back on the sofa, checking to make sure a tissue box was nearby. Sometimes the only way to feel better is to first feel worse. This was my new motto, at least for tonight.
I queued up a playlist of sorrowful songs and turned off the lights. I needed some time to allow myself to grieve the loss of my relationship with Adam. And though I knew it would only serve to heighten my sadness, I couldn’t stop myself from pulling up the picture from New Year’s Eve on my phone. The one Helena had taken of me and Adam.
A tear trailed down my cheek. We looked so happy in the photo, so close. How could this picture be from only a week ago? It didn’t seem possible that there was now a huge rift between us. But I had to stop obsessing; I had no one to blame but myself.
What other choice did I have though? I had to keep reminding myself I had broken up with him to ultimately protect him. Otherwise, I would call Adam and beg him to take me back.
The tears continued, until about an hour later, when I was feeling pretty much cried out. Just as I was wiping my nose, there was a knock on the front door. Shit, someone is here. I was in no shape for visitors. I was a mess, my eyes puffy and red, my nose runny, and there were dozens of tissues littering the floor. Maybe they’ll go away, I thought. But the knocking continued. I silenced the music, listened.
More knocks, a solid tattoo. I got up and yelled, “Okay, I’m coming. Hold on.”
Maybe it was my dad dropping off the rest of my boxes? He sometimes grew impatient like that; he was a lot like me. Or I like him. Whatever.
When I swung open the door, much to my surprise, it wasn’t my father standing under the porch light. “Oh,” I muttered, taken aback. There were indeed boxes out on the porch, stacked near the door. But instead of my dad standing beside them, it appeared an Adonis had materialized instead.
The incredibly good-looking guy smiled an equally incredible smile. “Sorry to bother you,” he said, “but I just got home and saw all these boxes out here.” He motioned to the stack. “I normally wouldn’t intrude, but there’s a chance of snow later tonight. I’d hate to see your stuff end up ruined.”
I stared a beat too long, biting my lip, and just…admiring. This had to be the neighbor Mrs. Heider was going on about. I mean, was there any doubt? This guy was hot. I could certainly see why my landlady had been blushing.
Gorgeous neighbor-guy was tall, probably over six feet, about the same height as Adam. But he appeared to be a couple of years older than my boyfriend’s (ex-boyfriend, now) twenty-eight. I pegged neighbor-guy at maybe early thirties. He had amazing bone structure, defined features like the ones on those statues you see in museums. The dark jeans and light coat he was wearing did little to hide his great physique. I suspected he worked out regularly. His hair was kind of a dirty blond, in need of a cut, but he was working it well. Very well, in fact. Coupled with the days’ worth of stubble on his jaw, it gave neighbor-guy a rugged, manly look.
But his eyes were what really drew my attention. They were the most unusual shade of green, like blades of summer grass, very pretty for a man. There was something more though, something vaguely familiar; I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
Smiling, he offered his hand. “I’m Stowe. I live in the house next door.” He gave the blue Victorian to his left a little jerk of his head.
I took his hand, his grasp firm and warm, and we shook. “I’m Maddy,” I replied, suppressing a blush when his eyes held mine a tad longer than necessary. “Nice to meet you.” I dropped my hand and quickly averting my gaze.
“Likewise.”
He put his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I can carry these in for you,” he offered, nodding to the boxes. “Some of those look like they could be heavy.”
He was probably right. There were several large boxes, and I’d packed them rather hastily, so a few were definitely overloaded. “That’d be great,” I said. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” He reached for one of the larger boxes and lifted it with ease.
I stepped aside so he could bring the box into the house, and as he pressed past me, his arm brushed mine, tensing as he shifted the heavy load. Oh my—his arms were as hard as Adam’s. Adam.
A wave of guilt washed over me. Less than twenty-four hours had passed and here I was ogling some stranger. But it wasn’t like I was interested in this guy; I was just appreciating how very, very attractive my new neighbor was. Mrs. Heider had not been exaggerating, that was for sure.
As Stowe brought in the boxes, I figured I should try to make some friendly conversation. After all, he was doing me a favor. “So you just moved in recently, too, right?”
“I did,” he replied. “About six weeks ago.”
“What brought you to Harbour Falls?”
Stowe had just set down the next to last box in the small entry area, and he paused before turning and answering. “I’m here on business. I guess you could say I am working on a…project, of sorts, for my boss.”
Well, that sounded vague. “What do you do exactly?” I pressed.
Stowe was on
