Tattooed Neighbor Next Door
Chapter 01
The moving boxes were still stacked against the wall when I heard it again—the deep thud of music from the other side of my paper-thin wall.
I dropped onto the couch with a sigh, brushing a strand of hair from my face. My husband should’ve been here to help me unpack, but as always, work came first. Another overseas trip. Another excuse.
I was used to silence in my old neighborhood, but this place was alive at odd hours. Doors slamming. Laughter spilling through the stairwell. And then there was him.
I’d only caught a glimpse earlier that afternoon—broad shoulders filling a doorway, a black T-shirt stretched over his chest, tattoos curling down his arm. He carried a grocery bag in one hand and a sleepy little girl in the other. His jaw was sharp,
