1
BRANDT
“Babe, the new neighbors are here!”
Nosy as I was, I peered through the curtains at the two U-Haul trucks and cars parked in the yard of the house next door. Too many people were going in and out of the house for it to be clear who was moving in, though. Whoever they were, they sure had a lot of fancy stuff.
My husband’s footsteps echoed behind me, and he slipped a hand around my waist and under my shirt to stroke my stomach. I was one lucky man to be married to a guy for over ten years who still touched my body like he’d done the night of our honeymoon.
Cairo placed a kiss on my neck, and my pulse jumped. “I thought you were working on your part of the assignment the therapist gave us, but here you are, being a Peeping Tom.”
“I am not. I’m a concerned citizen checking to ensure our neighborhood remains safe.”
“Mm-hmm,” he said in that condescending tone that meant he thought I was fooling myself.
“Do you think we should go by to introduce ourselves?”
“Let’s give them a few days to settle in first.”
“You’re right. What do you think about a chocolate mocha cake?”
“Yum, that sounds good, babe. It’s been a while since you’ve baked for me.”
“It’s not for you.” I elbowed him. “It’s to welcome our neighbors.”
“Why is it so important for you to get to know these neighbors anyway? We were never friendly with the Adams, and they lived there for five years before they moved.”
“They were never interested in being friends, and the husband was a prick.” I straightened and wrapped my arms around Cairo’s neck. “We haven’t really made meaningful friendships with others while we’ve lived here. This is a chance to change all that by taking the initiative.”
“I can do that if it’s what you want.” He tipped my chin up and covered my mouth with his. “Working on that list the therapist gave me kind of put me in the mood. Are you?”
I loved that although he wasn’t too into kissing, he did it often because he knew how close I felt to him through kissing. “Why, sir, it’s broad daylight. What kind of hussy do you think I am?”
Laughing, Cairo backed me into the wall and took my lips in a searing kiss. I melted into my husband’s arms, digging my fingers into the material of his shirt as I held on. I loved this. Loved how our desire to explore with others didn’t affect the intimacy between just the two of us. We were both careful, covering our bases and ensuring we understood each other before taking any action. We wanted to explore safely without damaging our relationship, and we would take as long as we needed to get to that mental space and emotional maturity to handle being entangled with someone else after being each other’s only since high school.
“Hmm, why do you get hotter every year?” Cairo mumbled against my lips.
I cupped his junk and squeezed until he groaned. He tugged my shirt and yanked it over my head. His lips fastened over one nipple, and I cried out, slipping my fingers into his hair.
“Babe—”
The chime of the doorbell echoed through the house. We both froze.
“Maybe they’ll go away,” Cairo said.
The doorbell rang again. I sighed. “Just let me get it.”
“All right, but don’t get too caught up in the conversation.”
“Is that your way of telling me I talk too much?”
He grinned, his teeth white against his rich dark mahogany skin. “It’s one of the things that makes you adorable.”
“Nice save.”
I walked to the front door. Shit, I didn’t have my shirt on. I shrugged and opened it anyway. A stocky man with inky black hair streaked through at the temples with gray stood on the step. He smiled, and my breath caught in my throat. He was about ten years older than me and gorgeous, with a square jawline and deep-set hazel eyes that held a glint of intrigue.
His gaze dropped to my naked chest, and when our gazes met, his smile widened. It wasn’t just my imagination, was it? My stomach fluttered, and I inhaled a deep breath.