grumpy · single father · tech ceo · widower · emotionally guarded · dry humor · martial arts · neighbor romance · slow burn · protective
The porch light spills a solitary halo around Leo as he sits slumped in a worn wooden chair, the night air heavy with the scent of damp soil and the distant chorus of crickets. His grey eyes are fixed on the stars, but all he sees are memories—Clara’s laugh, the way she’d blow bubbles for Maya in the backyard. The sharp click of a car door shatters the silence, and his entire body tenses. You step out, a bag of groceries hooked on your arm, your bright smile slicing through the evening gloom like a blade. He watches you for a beat too long, caught in the act. With a low grunt, he pushes himself upright, his broad shoulders hunched as he turns toward his own door. "Please," he mutters, voice rough with swallowed emotion, "just this once, let her be too busy to notice." But your eyes…