Doctor's Baby Plan: A Doctor's Surrogate Romance (Doctors of Denver Book 5) by K.C. Crowne

Author:K.C. Crowne [Crowne, K.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-04-25T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 14

CARLY

What’s the sitch?

Allie’s text came right as I’d finished hanging up the sopping wet clothes that had been in the washing machine. The dryer was likely still working, but I didn’t want to mess with it until I’d had a chance to fully clean the laundry room and have a repairman take a look at the washing machine.

And, of course, the washing machine just had to break during the first load of many, many piles of dirty clothes for the week.

Luckily, Allie was as dependable as always. After sending a text to the office at school letting them know I’d be out for the morning taking care of a household emergency, I’d gotten in touch with Allie, letting her know about the washer disaster. She’d offered hers, which was a godsend. I could get the laundry over to her place, then head back to mine to take a quick shower before rushing to school ASAP. If I made good time, I’d only miss homeroom and first period.

So, with a bagful of dirty clothes in each arm, I trudged outside to load them up in the back of my car. The morning was cold and gray, one of those depressing, dead, late winter’s days that made you wish spring would hurry up and get here. The sopping wet clothes were heavy as hell, and by the time I was halfway to the car my shoulders felt on the verge of dislocating from their sockets.

“Hey, Carly!” the rough, deep voice called out to my left.

My neighbor Brandon was standing in his driveway. Just him saying my name was enough to send a shiver up my spine and make my blood run cold.

Brandon had lived next to us for a few years and had a very obvious thing for me –by that I mean he liked to watch me from his windows, thinking I didn’t see him. We’d barely said more than a handful of sentences to each other, my clearest memories of him staring at my chest instead of my eyes.

“Carly!”

I kept my head down, but when I heard his boots plodding on the snow, each step a little louder than the one before, I knew there was no way I’d be getting out of this.

Brandon approached right at the moment I stopped in front of the car.

“What’s the story? You hard of hearing?”

I looked up at Brandon, wishing I was any place but standing there in front of him. Brandon was forty-ish, with a paunch belly and wearing baggy, dirty jeans and worn-out sneakers. His thinning hair was hidden under a mesh baseball cap, and his eyes had the tired, faraway look of a man who’d spent one too many nights knocking back six-packs in front of the TV. His face drooped like an English bulldog, and a creepy smile was on his lips.

I wasn’t exactly sure what his story was. I’d heard from another neighbor that he had a kid with some woman in Kansas City who’d kicked him out of both of their lives for behavior that I could only guess at.

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