The Bad Boy Next Door

Frank knew he shouldn't be watching her like this. She had a husband. A rather large husband. With guns. And combat training.

Still, when she was parading around her front porch in a silk robe that barely hit mid-thigh, Frank didn't have much of a choice but to watch.

With all that tan skin showing, and her honey-colored hair spilling down her back, she was mesmerizing. She looked up and waved at him, smiling. Her robe slipped slightly, and Frank could see just a little more flesh.

Frank waved back. "Good morning, Mrs. Wentz," he said, trying to remind himself that she was married more than anything else.

"Good morning, Franklin," she called back, her smile still firmly in place. "How's the book coming along?"

"Great," Frank replied, not wanting to relate his tale of writer's block woe.

"Glad to hear it. I'll see you later!"

"See you," Frank replied, watching her go back into her house. He sighed, cursing her husband under his breath as he went back inside his own home. Granted, Frank barely knew the man, but somehow he figured he was too much of a corn-fed farm boy to know what to do with a woman like that. "Stupid fuck," Frank muttered, walking into his study.

Frank sat at his computer, staring at the blank screen. He could barely remember the last time he'd typed more than a sentence, and usually, that was immediately deleted. His publisher was beginning to get fed up, threatening to drop him if he didn't come up with something soon, success of his previous novel be damned.

Frank groaned, resting his head in his hands. "Fucking wanking hell."

He got up and poured his first brandy of the day.

*** *** ***

"Can't someone else go in your place?"

Pete Wentz looked up at his wife, his annoyance clear on his face.

"Jordan, we talked about this when I took the job. I have to travel."

"But you just came back!"

"I've been home for three days."

"And for two of those you kept complaining about jet lag…"

Pete sighed heavily. "Jordan, I'm sorry, but I have to go. I need this job. Do you want to lose the house? The car? And what about the college fund we're starting for our future children?"

"I know, it's just… Pete, I was a military wife for three years. I thought when you got out that maybe we could actually see each other once in a while, but then you took this job, and you're gone almost as much as you were before!"

Pete walked over to Jo, gently taking hold of her arms and resting his forehead against hers.
"I know, baby. But I promise you, we'll spend some real time together soon."

"Promise?"

"Have I ever lied to you?"

Jo shook her head as Pete placed a soft kiss on top of it. "No."

"I love you, Jordan. I'll call you as soon as I get to the hotel, I promise."

"Okay. I love you, too, Pete."

Pete picked up his suitcase. "Be careful, baby. I'll be home soon."

Jo nodded. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too."

Pete gave her a quick kiss before heading out the door.

Jo tried to stop the tears, but they came anyway.