Page 11 of Dad Next Door

I’d lived next door for twelve years and had never seen the inside of the house. It looked nothing like I expected.

The outside was a sprawling Carpenter Gothic-style house with two large garages, multiple peaks, and intricate carvings and details in every aspect of the structure. The black brickwork and burnt orange siding stuck out among the beige and white houses on the rest of the street, as did the minimalist landscaping and heavily treed lot.

I’d assumed that even with the unique exterior, the inside would have the same cookie-cutter open concept, minimalist style that every other house in the area had. I’d been sorely mistaken.

The space was filled with interesting architectural touches and bright colors that should have been too much but fit together to give the house a quirky yet homey feel.

I closed the door behind me and fixed my gaze on Quinn.

He whipped off his shirt and turned around. “So, am I going to live?”

Ignoring how the muscles in his back rippled and flexed, I focused on his lower back and the nearly six-inch-long wound to the right of his spine.

“I think the odds are in your favor. Do you mind if I take a closer look?” The cut looked deep, but I couldn’t tell from this angle.

“Go ahead.”

I knelt on the tile floor and leaned closer, ignoring my proximity to his full ass. I might not be a people doctor, but I was still a medical professional and wasn’t about to check him out when he was trusting me to examine his injury.

The cut looked clean, and the edges of the wound were smooth. Both good signs. “It should heal without stitches. Can I touch you to examine it?”

“Sure.” He looked over his shoulder at me.

Gently, I pressed my fingers to his back, about an inch from the cut. His skin wasn’t hot, and there didn’t seem to be any swelling. “Does this hurt at all?”

“Not really. I feel some pressure on the cut, but not where you’re pushing.”

“It looks good right now, but you’ll want to keep an eye on it over the next few days in case it gets infected. Do you know the signs to watch out for?” I stood, my knee cracking loudly.

Quinn turned around in all his shirtless glory. “I do. Not the first time I’ve cut myself on someone’s house.”

“Right, of course. Because you’re a contractor.” I smiled sheepishly. “Did I mention it’s been a long day?”

“You did.” He grinned and pulled his shirt back on.

I tore my eyes from his rippling abs. “Um, thanks for helping find Jinx, and I’m glad you’re not badly hurt.”

“It was no problem. Thanks for checking up on me.”

“You’re welcome. Bye.”

Spinning on my heel, I hurried out of his house and speed-walked toward mine.

Well, that had been a giant disaster. Quinn might seem friendly, but there was no way in hell he wasn’t judging me for being the awkward mess I was.

Maybe that was for the best. I couldn’t place his age, but he was definitely under thirty. Way too young for me to thirst over, and way, way too young for any sort of neighborly relationship beyond him saving my cat and me being the weird old guy who couldn’t form a proper sentence.

3

QUINN

“Break time!” Nick announced, his arms filled with water bottles.

“Where are the snacks?” River asked accusingly. “We were promised snacks.” He elbowed Gray in the side.

“Don’t look at me. I brought them. That’s where my responsibility ends.” Gray plucked a water bottle out of Nick’s arms.

“Our supervisor is slacking.” Zane took two of the bottles and handed one to Noah and the other to River.