The Bad Boy Next Door

Usually, Frank wouldn't be caught dead at a block party. It was incredibly too suburban with all the women gossiping over covered dishes and the men ready to grill. But he'd looked out the window and had seen Jo. He knew he was no better than a lovesick teenage boy the way he'd do anything just to be around her, but he didn't care.

After glancing over at the men to verify that Pete was nowhere to be found, Frank approached the group of women Jo was talking to. "Hello, ladies," he said, giving his most charming smile.

The women all turned, greeting Frank with hellos and coy smiles. Frank ignored most of them, focusing on Jo. "How are you doing today, Mrs. Wentz?"

Jo blushed a little at the knowing looks women gave each other over the way Frank focused on her. "I'm fine, you?" she asked, trying to sound casual. After all, Frank was just her friend. There was nothing she should
feel guilty about.

"Great. Is your husband not back in town?"

More looks from the other women. "No," Jo said simply.

"Pity," Frank said with a smile that told Jo that he thought it was anything but. "He seems like the type who would love a chance to grill something." He nodded his head towards the group of men who were currently
flipping hamburgers.

"And why aren't you over there helping them?" Jo asked, suddenly wishing Frank was anywhere but there. She didn't like the looks she was getting from the other neighborhood women.

Frank shrugged. "Not too big with the whole cooking over an open flame thing, honey. Too caveman for me."

"Jordan, dear, could you give me a hand? I have a few pies I baked sitting on my counter, and I'd like to bring them out."

Jo smiled at the elderly woman who lived across from her. "Of course, Mrs. Cranston." She gave Frank a quick glance before walking across the street.

"Marriage is a difficult thing, child," Mrs. Cranston said once she and Jo were in her house.

Jo blinked. "What?"

"I remember when I was your age, dear. My sweet Lyle, bless his resting soul, was always working-much like that handsome husband of yours." Mrs. Cranston went into the kitchen, pulling out some plastic wrap to cover the pies with. "A few times I was confronted by the demon of temptation, but I didn't give in. Even if Lyle did, I always turned a blind eye. After all, men will be men. But we wives, we're meant to be there for our husbands, no matter how much better something else may look."

Jo frowned, confused. "What are you talking about?" she asked. "I haven't…"

Mrs. Cranston shook a stern finger. "Don't pretend you don't know. It's plain how you and that Frank look at each other. But you're a good girl, Jordan. Don't let him tempt you into being anything but a good wife. Pete's the kind of man who will take care of you."

Jo forced herself to stay quiet. She knew Mrs. Cranston meant well, but she didn't like the way she was talking to her. She wasn't a girl, she was a woman. A grown, adult woman. And she didn't need Pete to take care of her, did she? And as far as Frank was concerned, well, he was just a friend. No reason to worry there. She pushed herself to smile. "Thank you for the advice, Mrs. Cranston."

Mrs. Cranston smiled as if she felt she had truly accomplished
something, then handed Jo a pie. "Thank you for helping me with these, dear."

Jo nodded. "Happy to help."