Chapter One
Cleve got out of bed, pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, slid his
feet into his slippers, marched through the condo, picked up his keys from the
table beside the front door and let himself outside. As much as he paid
for this place, he should be able to get a good night's sleep! Either
there was absolutely no soundproofing between his bedroom wall and the condo
next door, or the woman next door was deaf and turned her music on 'blast' in
order to hear it. Whatever the reason, he needed to sleep, and he wasn't
going to tolerate that kind of noise. He pounded on her door, knowing
full well she wouldn't hear the doorbell if he pushed the button.
The
door opened suddenly, and the female earned a frown from Cleve for not
bothering to ask who was on the other side before opening the door, but then
again, if the former owner of his condo was to be believed, the woman was so
nasty to everyone that people left her alone! "What?" she snarled, giving
him a look of complete irritation.
Cleve
looked at her in disapproval. She could be pretty if she wanted to be,
but with her hair pulled up into one of those scrunchie things on top of her head, and wearing sweats that didn't match and were
stained, the thirtyish woman looked like crap. "You didn't have this door
locked, did you?" he growled.
"And
your point is?" she snapped.
"My
point is that you didn't ask who was on the other side, Miss, and that could
prove dangerous." Didn't she read the newspaper or watch the news on
television?
"I
don't have x-ray vision," she said tartly. "I assume you aren't going
around knocking on people's doors to see if they are locked?" she glared at
him. "So what the hell do you want? I don't have a cup of sugar to
loan, or coffee, or anything else you might need, and I don't like being
bothered. I'm not the neighborly type." Her voice would freeze
boiling water in an instant.
"I
don't like listening to your music when I am trying to sleep. Turn it
down now," Cleve didn't mince words. He didn't smile, didn't look away
from her gaze, and, in short, did his very best to intimidate the very hell out
of the tiny woman. It was called 'presence', and he was an expert.
"It
sounds like you have a problem, then. I listen to music when I work, and
I am working. I suggest you move your bedroom upstairs if you don't like
my taste in music."
"I am
not moving my bedroom. You are going to turn down your music," he said
forcefully.
"No, I
am not!" she stepped forward to show him his tactics weren't working. The
woman was pure ice, through and through.
"Yes,
you are. Right now!" Cleve didn't back down... not from anyone. He
never had and never would, and someone needed to take this foolish little woman
over a knee and paddle some sense into her!
"Oh
dear, are you going to call the cops to deal with the nasty little neighbor
lady?" she taunted him.
"I AM
a cop, Miss," he stated calmly, reminding himself of the nineteen years he had
on the force... And of how many times during those years he'd been called out
to deal with a situation like this. However, the uniform did seem to earn
a bit of cooperation from most people, and standing here in sweats and a tee
shirt left a lot to be desired when compared to the uniform he seldom wore
these days.
"Yeah,
right, and I am an opera singer!" she snorted in obvious disbelief. "Get
your butt out of here, and stuff your ears with cotton. I am not turning
down my music for you or anyone else, buster!"
She
had her hands on her hips, daring him to do something about the situation, and
Cleve never could resist a dare. It was one of his biggest flaws.
He picked her up with two hands on either side of her surprisingly tiny waist,
set her aside, marched through her house and into the equivalent of his
bedroom, but in her condo the space was used as a home office. He went to
the stereo, pulled the plug, and was greeted with blessed silence. He
also wasn't stupid; he knew she'd simply plug it in again as soon
Cleve got out of bed, pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, slid his
feet into his slippers, marched through the condo, picked up his keys from the
table beside the front door and let himself outside. As much as he paid
for this place, he should be able to get a good night's sleep! Either
there was absolutely no soundproofing between his bedroom wall and the condo
next door, or the woman next door was deaf and turned her music on 'blast' in
order to hear it. Whatever the reason, he needed to sleep, and he wasn't
going to tolerate that kind of noise. He pounded on her door, knowing
full well she wouldn't hear the doorbell if he pushed the button.
The
door opened suddenly, and the female earned a frown from Cleve for not
bothering to ask who was on the other side before opening the door, but then
again, if the former owner of his condo was to be believed, the woman was so
nasty to everyone that people left her alone! "What?" she snarled, giving
him a look of complete irritation.
Cleve
looked at her in disapproval. She could be pretty if she wanted to be,
but with her hair pulled up into one of those scrunchie things on top of her head, and wearing sweats that didn't match and were
stained, the thirtyish woman looked like crap. "You didn't have this door
locked, did you?" he growled.
"And
your point is?" she snapped.
"My
point is that you didn't ask who was on the other side, Miss, and that could
prove dangerous." Didn't she read the newspaper or watch the news on
television?
"I
don't have x-ray vision," she said tartly. "I assume you aren't going
around knocking on people's doors to see if they are locked?" she glared at
him. "So what the hell do you want? I don't have a cup of sugar to
loan, or coffee, or anything else you might need, and I don't like being
bothered. I'm not the neighborly type." Her voice would freeze
boiling water in an instant.
"I
don't like listening to your music when I am trying to sleep. Turn it
down now," Cleve didn't mince words. He didn't smile, didn't look away
from her gaze, and, in short, did his very best to intimidate the very hell out
of the tiny woman. It was called 'presence', and he was an expert.
"It
sounds like you have a problem, then. I listen to music when I work, and
I am working. I suggest you move your bedroom upstairs if you don't like
my taste in music."
"I am
not moving my bedroom. You are going to turn down your music," he said
forcefully.
"No, I
am not!" she stepped forward to show him his tactics weren't working. The
woman was pure ice, through and through.
"Yes,
you are. Right now!" Cleve didn't back down... not from anyone. He
never had and never would, and someone needed to take this foolish little woman
over a knee and paddle some sense into her!
"Oh
dear, are you going to call the cops to deal with the nasty little neighbor
lady?" she taunted him.
"I AM
a cop, Miss," he stated calmly, reminding himself of the nineteen years he had
on the force... And of how many times during those years he'd been called out
to deal with a situation like this. However, the uniform did seem to earn
a bit of cooperation from most people, and standing here in sweats and a tee
shirt left a lot to be desired when compared to the uniform he seldom wore
these days.
"Yeah,
right, and I am an opera singer!" she snorted in obvious disbelief. "Get
your butt out of here, and stuff your ears with cotton. I am not turning
down my music for you or anyone else, buster!"
She
had her hands on her hips, daring him to do something about the situation, and
Cleve never could resist a dare. It was one of his biggest flaws.
He picked her up with two hands on either side of her surprisingly tiny waist,
set her aside, marched through her house and into the equivalent of his
bedroom, but in her condo the space was used as a home office. He went to
the stereo, pulled the plug, and was greeted with blessed silence. He
also wasn't stupid; he knew she'd simply plug it in again as soon
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