Slow Burn: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Breathing Hearts Book 2)

  Contents

  Title

  Dedication

  Free Book

  Copyright

  Slow Burn

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  Books by A.K. MacBride

  Connect with A.K.

  This one is for you - no matter how broken you think you are, you're still a beautiful, wonderful soul!

  Embrace it.

  Own it.

  Want a free quickie?

  A book! I meant a book…what were you thinking about? *waggles brows*

  Anyhoo, if lunchtime shorts are your thing, I have just the little gem for you!

  Check out the link at the back of this book to claim your free copy of Crossing the Line!

  It's a fun friends to lovers lunchtime quickie!

  Copyright © 2021 by A.K. MacBride

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the authors' imaginations. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Edited by Beth Hale, Magnolia Author Services

  Proofread by Magnolia Author Services

  Cover by Timeless Designs

  My new neighbor ticks all the right boxes.

  Tall – check.

  Muscular – check.

  Tatted – double check.

  Until he opens his mouth.

  Adam is grumpy, rude, and obnoxious as hell.

  And I really should tell him exactly where he can shove his insults.

  Instead, I bite my tongue.

  He intrigues me, and I can't fight the need I have to find out what caused the pain so evident in his dark eyes.

  Soon the thick, hungry flames surrounding Adam consume me.

  I should've known better.

  Because when you play with fire, you're bound to get burned.

  1

  MADDIE

  "Is he naked? Oh, please tell me he's naked."

  Even though there was no way for her to see it, I rolled my eyes and pressed the phone closer to my ear. "Yes, Frankie, he is butt naked, working his wood while the midday sun is beating down on him."

  Choosing to focus on my words instead of my sarcasm, my best friend slash sister from another mister sighed. Her voice all dreamy when she spoke. "Mmm, now that's what I'm talking about. Is he being rough? I like it when they're all caveman." She didn't even give me time to answer before she fired off another round of questions. "Is he ripped? Does he have huge bulging muscles that make you want to hang on for days and days?"

  "Frankie," I said into the phone. From my second-floor bedroom window I had the perfect view of the man dominating our conversation, the one I couldn't take my eyes off. "You need help. The professional kind."

  She barked out a laugh and I could easily imagine her flicking her inky hair over her shoulder. "You can always send your hot neighbor over, I bet he'll be real helpful."

  Groaning, I shook my head even though she couldn't see me. "I never said he was hot. Hell, I don't even know if he is; I've only seen the back of him." But if the way his ass was filling out those well-worn jeans was anything to go by, the view would most definitely not be bad. "Before you ask again," I quickly added. "He is not in his birthday suit."

  "Ah, boo," she whined, and I could only smile. After Frankie caught her boyfriend of almost five years with his fingers in someone else's cookie jar, she'd completely sworn off men, but that didn't stop her from ogling anything with a stick dangling between its legs.

  Looking has never been a crime, she always said.

  Good thing too, because I'd sure as hell done a lot of looking since my mysterious neighbor had ventured out of his house for the first time since he'd moved in three weeks ago. Even that had been odd. I'd gone to bed with the house next to me still vacant and had woken up just in time to see a U-Haul truck pull away.

  Ever since then, I had been loitering near the windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person or family who'd be interested in the rundown house next door.

  "Oh my goodness, are you even listening?" Frankie's annoyed voice filtered through the line.

  "Nope. What were you saying?" I tore my eyes away from the man furiously sawing thick wooden panels to give my Chinese Crested dog, Sheldon, a stern look. He was dancing around on his hind legs, begging me to pick him up. With a sharp jerk of my head, I mouthed the word no. Of course, he didn't care and chose to scratch my leg instead.

  Puffing out a breath, I bent down to scoop the little asshole up and was immediately rewarded with a pink tongue attacking my face. When Sheldon had dealt out enough kisses, he swiveled his head toward the window and pressed his wet nose against the glass.

  Guess I wasn't the only one who wanted to spy.

  "… introduce yourself." I only caught the tail end of Frankie's sentence but felt too bad to ask her to repeat herself…again.

  Taking a shot in the dark, I asked, "You think I should?"

  "Well, you're neighbors, right? It's the neighborly thing to do." Her tone warned me there was more to come. Sure enough, a second later, she sweetly added, "Plus then you'll know what he looks like and then I'll know if I'm bringing my lawn chair and a pitcher of margaritas."

  My mouth was half-open when mystery man next door pulled the baseball cap off his head and dragged his hand over his short light-brown hair. Something caught my eye. Squinting, I leaned closer to get a better look, knocking my forehead against the glass in the process. "Ouch… Oooh! He has a tattoo." Rubbing my forehead, I kept my eyes locked on the ink covering his arm.

  "He does?" Frankie sounded just as excited as I felt. Our tastes in men might've been vastly different, but both of us agreed that tattoos instantly took a guy from a 7 to a 9. Especially a full sleeve. "Tell me more?" she cooed in my ear.

  "Ugh, I can't see from up here." I narrowed my eyes even more, as if by some miracle that would magnify whatever I was looking at. "But I'm pretty sure it's covering his entire arm."

  "Madison Taylor Young, you have to go down there and introduce yourself immediately." As if understanding every word Frankie had just uttered, Sheldon set his tiny paws against the window and scratched furiously.

  "You two are horrible," I muttered. My eyes were still stuck on Mr. Tattoo. His cap was back on his head and he was manhandling a piece of wood as if it had offended him. Tugging my lip between my teeth, I mused, "Nothing wrong with a friendly introduction."

  "Nothing at all," Fra
nkie agreed.

  "Okay, fine. You convinced me. I'm going." Not that I needed coaxing in any way, shape, or form. My neighbor was way too intriguing. I set Sheldon down and after giving myself a quick once over in the mirror, I bounced down the stairs. "Call you later?"

  "You better."

  When the other end went dead, I set my phone down on the thin table next to the sliding doors that led to my backyard and stepped outside. One long drag of salty air to my lungs had the smile on my face growing wider.

  Closing my eyes, I took in the soothing sound of the waves crashing and reveled in the soft breeze blowing over my face. That right there almost made it worth it to be back.

  Almost.

  I opened my eyes and shook off the melancholy before it had time to sink its claws in. Now was not the time for it, not when I had more pressing matters to attend to. Like getting acquainted with my hot-assed, tattooed neighbor.

  My approach to the little wooden fence that separated our yards was deliberately slow and I wasn't sure why. It wasn't like I was a jump in head first kind of girl, but I wasn't overly cautious either.

  And yet, I felt an odd nervousness in my bones the closer I got. He was still hunched over his bench; one hand gripping the wood while the other furiously worked a handsaw. Now that only a few feet separated us, I saw he was taller and broader, and his entire right arm was covered in ink—well, the parts peeking out from under his t-shirt sleeve.

  I had to swallow down a little sigh as I took in his big shoulders, narrow waist, and absolutely perfect butt.

  Wow.

  It took me a few seconds to realize that if he turned around right then, I'd probably look like a creeper. Clearing my throat, I spoke loud and clear. "Hi, I'm—"

  "Not interested."

  What?

  Taking a step forward, I rested my arms on the fence. "I just want to introduce myself."

  "No."

  At least that's what I thought the grumble translated to.

  My brows knitted together. I was so confused. Never in my life had an attempted introduction gone like that. And I'd spent a year in New York, so that was saying a lot. I also wasn't one to simply give up. Once I had my mind on something, I had to see it through.

  "You're not interested in making a friend?" I tried again, using the sweetest tone I could.

  The big man on the other side shifted, keeping his left side completely out of my view. He was still looking down but I could see a glimpse of a sharp jaw peppered with a few days' growth.

  "No."

  This time I heard him loud and clear. I also happened to notice that if he wasn't being such a grumpy ass, his voice might've sounded sexy. It was deep and gravelly, the kind that could have goosebumps littering your body with just one word.

  Licking my lips, I took another approach. "Okay. How about a friendly neighbor? Surely you don't have a problem with that?"

  He let out an audible sigh. Dropping his chin to his chest, he gritted out, "Do your ears not work, woman? Not. Interested." The tool in his hand fell onto the bench with a loud thud before he turned and stomped into his house.

  Completely stunned, all I could do was stare at the door he'd just slammed shut. It was the sound of my phone shrieking to life from inside my house that finally pulled me out of my stupor. With a sharp shake of my head, I pivoted and hurried to answer. I didn't even have to look to know it was Frankie.

  Swiping the green button, I pressed the device against my ear. "He's an asshole."

  2

  MADDIE

  I held my hand above my eyes and squinted at the bright rays smacking me in the face. As much as I would have liked to complain, it wasn't the sun's fault it was so damn bright. Nope, thanks to Frankie's margarita concoction yesterday, I was feeling the slightest bit fragile.

  She'd arrived on my doorstep fifteen minutes after I'd informed her of my neighbor's wonderful personality. And because it wasn't in Frankie's nature to show up empty handed, she'd waltzed into my kitchen with lunch, dessert, and drinks.

  Lots and lots of drinks.

  Naturally we'd hoped to catch a glimpse of Mr. Personality next door, but his grumpy butt hadn't made an appearance once. In fact, I didn't think I was going to be seeing much of him at all.

  He'd made that perfectly clear when he stalked back into his house when I returned from the beach earlier this morning. I hadn't even had a chance to lift my arm to wave before the shadowy figure pushed off his chair and disappeared.

  From the tiny bit I could make out, I spotted my sister, Jennah, heading toward our parents' hardware store. Instead of going in, she turned and waited for me to catch up. Great.

  "Fun weekend?" she chirped the moment I reached her.

  Jennah had two years on me but anyone who didn't know us could easily mistake us for twins. We had the same blonde hair, we shared the same almond-shaped, hazel-colored eyes. Even our damn noses looked alike.

  That's where the similarities stopped, though. Unlike me, Jennah had her act together. She was raising my nephew on her own and doing a damn good job at it too. Her bookkeeping skills were the best. And she had yet to disappoint my parents in any way.

  Pushing those thoughts away, I forced a smile to my lips and said, "Frankie brought her trunk of drunk over yesterday." There wasn't a person in Clearwater Bay who didn't know about Frankie's trunk of drunk. Creating delicious boozy drinks was her passion. Well, that and baking.

  So much so that her bakery, Sugar Booger, was known for its decadent alcoholic cupcakes two towns over.

  Jennah made a noise and pulled on the door. "Come on, let's get some coffee in you."

  Eager to get out of the sun, I rushed past her, giving her a grateful smile as I did. She smiled back but something was off. She looked almost sad.

  "Is Tommy okay?" I asked over my shoulder.

  I could only see her brow pull together before I had to focus on where I was going. I didn't want to accidentally walk into one of the shelves and have a hammer or screwdriver fall on my toes.

  "He thinks his life sucks and that I am the worst mom for making him eat his vegetables. So, just another normal day. Why?"

  I shook my head and immediately regretted it. "You look…off. Are you okay?"

  A warm hand landed on my shoulder and squeezed. "I'm just tired. The only one who is not okay here is you and that head of yours." The hairs at my nape stood on end. My sister was lying to me and I didn't like it. Unfortunately, my brain hurt too much for me to even attempt to get to the bottom of it.

  Focusing on the delicious coffee smell coming from the small kitchen at the back of the store, I made a mental note to ask her about it later. Way later, when the little guy pounding his hammer against my skull went to sleep.

  As I knew we would, we found our mom sitting at the little table; sipping her tea and doing her crossword.

  "Don't talk too loud, Maddie has a hangover," Jennah cheerily announced.

  Mom looked up; her dark brown eyes boring into me from over the rim of her glasses. She didn't have to say a single word. I felt the weight of her disapproval all the way to the soles of my feet.

  Shrugging, I muttered the same words I'd said to Jennah. "Frankie came over."

  When my mom dragged her glasses off her nose and set them on the table with a sigh, I wanted to turn around and run until my legs couldn't carry me anymore.

  "Madison, you know better than that. It's irresponsible."

  Working my jaw, I thought of the view from my backyard. Of how I got to dance my heart out on that beach every single morning without judgement. I thought long and hard about that before I answered my mother. Because if I didn't, no one would've liked the words that wanted out.

  "It won't affect my work." Turning my gaze to my sister who was looking like she regretted opening her mouth, I said, "I won't be needing that coffee." Without another word, I hurried to the front of the store and took my place behind the counter.

  A few minutes later, my sister pushed a steaming mug of c
affeine in front of me and simply said, "Sorry", before she stalked off to her office to make sure Dad's books where in tiptop shape.

  Fun times.

  The morning dragged on and my mood simply went from bad to worse. I needed a distraction from the mess that was my life. Staring out the window at our picturesque little town, an image of Mr. Personality and his very fine ass popped into my head.

  Needing the escape, I gave my imagination free reign. I thought back to his ink-covered sculpted arm and big, manly hands. They had to be big if he could hold the wood in place so effortlessly.

  I bet his palms were rough and would probably have goosebumps popping up all over as it scraped along my skin. Or when it fisted my hair. Or—

  Oh, good heavens. Here I was daydreaming about a man I hadn't even seen yet. A very unpleasant man. Was that what my life had come to? Working in my dad's hardware store because I couldn't cut it in New York and fantasizing about a faceless man because the only action I got was from a battery-operated device that lived in my bedside drawer.

  I couldn't decide whether to be embarrassed or just sad.

  "Good morning, dearie."

  Snapping out of my wallowing, I found Mrs. Christi standing on the other side of the counter. Her smile was warm and friendly as she pushed a shower head and a few hooks toward me.

  "Morning, Mrs. Christi." I started scanning the items and placed them in a bag. "Did you have a good weekend?"

  Her entire face lit up. "Oh, yes. We visited Sharon in the city, and she took us to the new firm she's working at." Clasping her hands in front of her chest, she let out a little sigh. "It was so fancy. They offered us champagne and tiny morsels of food that looked too pretty too eat."

  When the Christi's daughter had left to pursue her law degree in Los Angeles, Mrs. Christi had cried for days. And now she was positively beaming.

  "That'll be forty-three fifty, please."

  "I hear Sharon is making quite the name for herself." Out of nowhere, my dad sidled in beside me, resting one arm on the countertop. I kept my attention on the money the older woman had handed me rather than listen to her and my father talk about how wonderful Mrs. Christi's daughter was.