Page 2 of Learning to Trust

Chapter Two

ANDREW

Angry shouting from next door drew my attention away from what my best friend, Kyle, was saying about moving boxes inside before the threat of rain eventuated. My Aunt Heather had passed a month earlier, and being her only living relative, she had willed me her sizeable estate. Her generosity was something I would always be grateful for—her estate, including the house in Southampton I was currently moving into, was worth millions. Quite the windfall, even for a wealthy man as I was, thanks to inheriting my parent's estate, but I would give it all up to spend more time with the woman who had raised me and whom I considered more of a mother than an aunt.

Kyle, Simon, Cody, and Leon, my closest friends who had agreed to help me with the move, became aware of the scene next door, stopped what they were doing, and stepped up to my side. We stood watching as the drama unfolded.

I studied the angry man standing on the covered porch and felt the twinge of interest in my cock. He appeared to be six to eight inches shorter than my own, 6’ 4”, with a shock of unruly black curls I itched to push back off his forehead so I could get a clear look at his eyes. Dressed in only a pair of navy-blue sweatpants, I was able to view his well-defined muscles and wondered if they were the product of hard work or a gym. Maybe both. His feet were bare, and I got the impression he’d just crawled from his bed.

Cody groaned when the angry guy lobbed a pair of sturdy boots at the man standing by the door of a late-model Lexus that was backed into the driveway. He was shorter than the angry guy, thin, and looked like a nerd with his soda bottle thick glasses. His thinning hair gave him the appearance of being quite a bit older. While one boot sailed past nerd guy's head, the other hit him square in the chest, causing him to take a staggering step backward.

Once he had regained his composure, the nerdy guy picked up the boots and threw them into the front seat of his car before attempting to plead with his boyfriend—or lover? Either way, the man I now knew as David wasn't interested in what was being said, and the plea fell on deaf ears when he spun around, disappeared into his home, and slammed the door so hard it rattled the windows of my house!

The nerdy guy started to approach the door, but obviously thinking better of his decision and probably knowing he had no hope of negotiating a peace treaty, he climbed into his car and drove away.

“Whoa, that guy was angry. I wonder what lover boy did?” Leon asked before sweeping up another box and heading toward my open front door.

When the phone in my pocket rang, I set the box I’d just lifted back onto the ground and pulled the cell free. A number I didn’t recognize lit up the screen, but that wasn’t unusual since I was a locksmith and strangers regularly called my business. I pressed the button and answered.

“Whyte Locksmith Services.”

The man on the other end of the line was abrupt and informed me that he needed every lock on his property changed immediately. I advised him that my time was worth double on weekends, and he said he would pay whatever I wanted to get the job done. It was a pain in the ass that I needed to take care of a job on what was supposed to be a day off and moving day, but running my own business meant I needed to take care of anything that arose. Well, not me necessarily, but I had given Gina and Henry, two of my employees, time off to attend a wedding and promised Phil, Tony, and Diane the entire weekend off since they’d worked Saturdays on the past three. Fiona, my bookkeeper, personal assistant, and receptionist, had no idea where to start with changing a lock, so she wasn't a consideration. Nope, this job was all mine.

I agreed to be at the house within the next hour and asked for the man's name and address. Imagine my shock when he told me his name was David Pennant, and he was the angry owner of the house next door. I didn't enlighten him on the fact I was his new neighbor. I disconnected the call, thinking that nerdy guy did, in fact, look like he was gone for good.

“Who was that?” Cody hefted a box into his arms and waited for my answer.

“A guy who needs all the locks changed on his property.”

“Bugger. Did you ask him if he could wait until tomorrow?”

I shook my head. “He said it was urgent and wants them done today.”

“Damn.”

“Hmm.” The thought of being in the same room as the sexy, angry guy had my cock swelling.

“What?” Cody asked when he must have noticed I was off with the fairies.

I turned my attention back to my friend. “It’s the guy next door.”

“Angry guy? That’s one hell of a coincidence.”

“Yep. It seems like he’s serious about nerdy guy staying away. Do you mind unloading the rest of the stuff and returning the truck? I told Ken I’d have it back by lunch.”

He slapped me on the back. "We've got your back; go ahead."

"Pick up a case of beer and steaks, and we'll grill when I get back. It should only take an hour or so unless he's some lock freak."

After Cody left with another box, I headed to where I'd parked my van in one of the triple-car garages and pushed a button on the remote in my pocket. A door slid upward, and I stepped inside. Grabbing a toolbox from the back, I opened the lid and shoved in several locks I thought were the most likely to be needed.

Carrying the toolbox, I cut across both front lawns, stepped onto the porch where David had stood during the argument, and rang the doorbell. The man who swung the door open was bleary-eyed, reeked of alcohol, and swayed precariously on his feet. It had been less than half an hour since the fight, and the man standing before me was tanked.

Fortunately, the death grip he had on the door was managing to keep him upright.

I thrust out my free hand. "Hi. I'm Andrew, the locksmith, and your new neighbor."

He attempted to shake the hand, which required releasing his hold on the door. He swayed, losing his balance, and dropped to the floor in a heap.