Chapter 66 OH NO! TROUBLE IN TOWN

Chapter 66 OH NO! TROUBLE IN TOWN
Rowan's POV
I was in the kitchen, finishing up a second cup of coffee and thinking about how to convince Althea to take a nap, when I heard it.
The first time I heard the knock, I thought it was just the sister squad. Rose or Rosa usually show up unannounced at our new place, sometimes with snacks, sometimes with a list of complaints about their marriage, and usually with both. I was fully prepared to open the door to a long story about some guy who didn't text back fast enough.
But this knock was different. It wasn't loud or demanding. It wasn't the "I’m family so I’m coming in" pound. It was soft. Rhythmic. Almost shy.
I wiped my hands on the kitchen towel, tossed it onto the counter, and headed toward the front door. I figured it was just a delivery guy or maybe the mailman with a package we’d forgotten about.
Standing there was a woman I had never seen in my life. A total stranger.
She was pretty in a very intentional way—soft brown curls resting on her shoulders, a warm, honey-colored complexion, and a smile that looked like she had been posing for a magazine cover right before I turned the handle. She was holding a pie in both hands like it was a sacred prop for a movie scene.
"Oh," she breathed. "Wow. Hi."
Her voice dipped on the hi, and she stared at me with this wide-eyed look, like she didn't expect the guy behind the door to look like... well, me. I’m used to people staring—it’s a side effect of the Pierce last name and the jawline—but this felt different. It felt heavy.
I cleared my throat, keeping my voice neutral. "Hello."
She blinked rapidly, like she was trying to snap out of a trance, and then she forced a bright, overly sweet smile onto her face. It looked a bit like a mask. "I—I’m Brenda. I’m your neighbor from two doors down. We just moved in yesterday."
She lifted the pie slightly so I could see it better. Cherry. I could smell the sugar and the cinnamon radiating off the crust; it was still warm, which meant she’d probably timed the baking specifically for this walk over.
"That’s very kind of you. Thank you," I said, giving her a polite, neighborly smile.
"God," she whispered under her breath, so low I almost didn't catch it, "your voice..."
I paused, narrowing my eyes slightly as a weird feeling crawled up my spine. "What was that?"
Her face turned bright red instantly. "NOTHING! Uh—nothing. I just meant… your house! The foyer! It probably has an amazing echo. Yes. Echoes. Very nice architecture."
I fought the urge to laugh because she looked like she wanted to climb inside the pie and hide from the sheer embarrassment. She seemed harmless enough—just a bit socially awkward. For a split second, I actually felt bad for her.
"Rowan?" Althea’s voice called out from the living room. "Who is it? Is the food here?"
The second Althea spoke, Brenda perked up like a deer hearing a hunter’s footsteps. Her eyes shifted immediately behind me. When Althea walked into the foyer, looking stunning even in her lounge clothes and messy bun, Brenda’s entire expression just froze.
Althea smiled warmly, brushing a stray hair back as she approached the door. She’s a natural at being a hostess. "Hello! Oh, did we get a delivery?"
Brenda just stared. She looked at me, then at Althea, then back at me. She looked like she was trying to recalibrate her entire worldview in real-time. It was like she hadn't factored a wife—especially one as beautiful as Althea—into the equation.
"I—this is—I brought pie," she stammered, finally remembering why she was standing there.
"That’s so sweet! Thank you so much!" Althea said, her voice full of that genuine, soft-hearted kindness she always has.
Althea reached out to take the pie from her, and I noticed it immediately. Brenda’s fingers lingered for way too long.

I stepped back instinctively. I didn't like the way the air in the doorway suddenly felt thick. It was a look of instant, deep-seated want—the kind of look she definitely shouldn't be giving a man she’d known for two minutes.
Althea didn't notice a thing. She’s the type of person who assumes everyone has good intentions. "Oh wow, it smells amazing," she said, looking down at the cherry filling. "Would you like to come in for a bit? We’re still decorating, so don't mind the boxes, but we have some fresh coffee."
Brenda’s eyes flicked to Althea’s hand, which was now resting comfortably on my forearm. Something dark and territorial flickered in her expression. It was like she was offended that Althea was even allowed to touch me.
"No," Brenda said quickly, her voice coming out a bit more snapped than she probably intended. "No, I shouldn't. Unpacking. So many boxes. I really should get back."
"Alright," Althea said, still smiling. "But thank you again, Brenda! We’ll see you around!"
Brenda nodded stiffly, took one last, long, hungry look at me, and then turned to walk down the hallway. I noticed her walk changed the second she turned her back. It wasn't shy anymore. It was slower. Measured. Almost deliberate, like she knew I was still standing there.
Althea shut the door and sighed happily, heading toward the kitchen with the prize. "She seems nice! A little weird, but nice. We should definitely get her a thank you card later."
I exhaled, finally feeling the tension leave my shoulders, though the bad vibe stayed in the room. "She seems… something. I don't know if nice is the word I’d use, babe."
Althea laughed, oblivious to the red flags I was currently waving in my head. "Rowan, be nice. She’s probably just lonely and trying to make a good impression."
"I am nice," I muttered, moving to the kitchen as she set the pie on the island. "I just didn't like the way she was staring at the furniture." Or me.
She slipped her arms around my waist from behind, leaning her head against my back and squeezing tight. "You’re mine," she whispered with a teasing, playful edge. "Be careful. Women get weak when they see that face of yours. I might have to start charging a viewing fee."
I froze for a second, feeling my heart do a weird flip. Althea had no idea how right she was. She didn't know what it did to me when she claimed me like that. I placed my hands over hers, locking her in place. "You’re the only woman I want bothering to get weak."
She giggled softly. "Good. Now, let's see if this pie is actually edible."

The next morning, I was up early. Althea was still sleeping—pregnancy was making her a literal professional at napping, and I loved that for her. I decided to take out some of the empty moving boxes to the garage to clear up the foyer. I was just in my gym clothes, trying to be productive before the day really started.
I stepped out into the corridor of our floor, heading toward the service elevator with a stack of cardboard. But the moment I was out there, I heard a door click open quietly behind me.
I turned my head.
Brenda stepped out. She was wearing gym clothes—tight leggings, a fitted tank top, and her hair was tied up in a perfect, sleek ponytail.
"Oh," she breathed. "Good morning, Rowan."
"Morning," I replied, my voice neutral. I didn't want to start a conversation; I just wanted to finish my chores and get back to my wife.

"How’s the pie?" she asked softly, her eyes scanning my face.
"Althea liked it," I said shortly. I made sure to emphasize her name. I wanted to draw a very clear line in the sand.
Her jaw tightened at the mention of Althea. "Althea. Right. She seems... very sweet. Very lucky."
There it was again. That flicker of jealousy. It was ridiculous and completely out of place for a neighbor I’d met exactly once.
"We’re married," I said plainly. I didn't care if it sounded blunt. I wanted to make sure there was no neighborly confusion about my status.
She swallowed hard, her throat moving as she stared at me. "I heard. Congratulations."
But her voice didn't sound congratulatory. It sounded like she had just been told the world was ending and she was the only one who didn't like the finale. She pushed off the wall suddenly, stepping even closer into my personal space. I could literally feel the heat coming off her.
"Just so you know," she said quietly, her voice dropping into a tone that was way too intimate, "people don’t usually make pies for neighbors. I don’t. Ever."
I raised a brow, refusing to move back. "Okay."
"I made that one because…" she hesitated, the truth sitting between us like a thick cloud of smoke. "Because I felt something the second you opened that door yesterday. Something I haven't felt in a long time."
I stiffened, my polite guy mask officially cracking. "Brenda—"
"I know, I know," she said quickly, waving her hands as if she were the one being reasonable. "You’re married. You love her. You’re loyal. You’re a good man."
She exhaled a shaky, jagged breath, her eyes holding mine with a look that was hungry and desperate. "That’s… exactly the problem, Rowan. Good men are my weakness. And I’ve never been very good at following the rules."
The elevator dinged, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. She stepped inside the doors without waiting for a response. As the doors started to slide shut, she didn't look away. Her eyes held mine with a look that I didn't like at all. It was dangerous. It was troubling. It was the look of someone who had already decided that she was going to get what she wanted, no matter who she had to step over to get it.
The second she disappeared behind the metal doors, I let out a long, ragged breath. This was bad. Really bad.
The pie wasn't the real gift. It was a Trojan horse. Brenda wasn't just a neighbor with a crush; she was a predator who had just marked her territory. And the problem was, Althea had no idea. She was inside, probably waking up and thinking about wedding dresses and luxury hair, totally unaware that the woman two doors down was already planning how to take her place.
I walked back to our door and pulled it shut, locking it twice. I felt a sudden, heavy weight in my chest. Something told me that the peace we’d worked so hard for was about to be shredded.
This was only the beginning. And I had a feeling that Brenda was the kind of person who wouldn't stop until she burned the whole house down just to see if I’d save her from the flames.
I leaned against the door for a second, listening to the silence of my home. My heart was thumping hard. I had to protect Althea, but I also didn't want to stress her out while she was carrying our baby. If I told her the neighbor was basically declaring war on our marriage, she’d lose it. But if I didn't tell her, Brenda would definitely find a way to get closer.
I looked at my phone. No notifications. No drama. Just the calm before the storm. I walked back to the bedroom, watching Althea sleep for a moment. She looked so peaceful. I sat on the edge of the bed and made a silent promise: no matter what Brenda tried, she wasn't getting anywhere near this. I’d shut it down before she could even take another step.
I just hope I wasn't already too late.