The Man Next Door (An Older Man / Younger Woman Romance) by Mia Madison

Author:Mia Madison [madison, mia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-08-30T03:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Constance

It took a moment for the sound that was in the background of my head to make its way forward to my consciousness. It wasn’t until then that I recognized it for what it was. Someone was knocking on my front door.

I considered ignoring it. I’d done it before when I was immersed in putting the finishing touches on a piece, but the knocking started again, bashing its way through my connection with my art.

“Dammit!” I threw the paint laden brush down on a pad of old newspapers atop the dining table and marched my way to the front door, ready to rip whoever stood there a new one. Swinging the door open, a stream of obscenities dissolved away on the tip of my tongue as a smile stretched my lips.

“Ander,” I said, though it came out sounding more like a sigh. He was wearing jeans and a button-up pale blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and in his arms, he had a grocery bag brimming over with an assortment of fresh produce.

“Don’t tell me you forgot to eat again today,” he said, his low voice washing over me like a promise of other things to come.

“I…” I had started to counter with more than a little bit of indignity that I had eaten, but as my mind reached back through the start of the day to figure out what, my mind was a complete blank. The best I could do then was to smile brighter and open the door a bit wider. “Maybe I would have remembered to eat if you hadn’t snuck out and left me asleep in bed,” I chided. I wasn’t even sure how long I had slept, but however long it was, it was too long. I had stuff to do, and the clock was ticking. Besides that, I’d been miffed that after our first time together, I didn’t even recall getting a kiss goodbye.

I stepped aside as Ander stepped through the doorway, closing the door behind him and then following him through to the kitchen. He eyed my mess of paints and canvases as we passed the dining table. “Have you been up all night?” I could hear the concern in his voice. “That looks like a hurricane hit it. I mean, it looked bad yesterday, but only Saturday-night-drunken-brawl bad, not all-out-chaos bad.”

“I have a gallery show coming up in a few weeks.” I shook my head. “I’d thought I was ready, but the closer it gets it seems like the things I need to take care of are multiplying. The harder I work, the more there is to do.”

We reached the kitchen and Ander put down his bag of food. “How about you go take a nap while I make us an early dinner.”

“You don’t have to. Really, you can go.” I was more tired than I thought. It took me several long seconds to even notice the pained expression on Ander’s face. “What I mean—”

“No, it’s okay,” Ander said interrupting as he pushed past me on his way back out of the kitchen.

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