The Bad Boy Next Door (Kendrick Place)

by Jody Holford

  As she readied herself for bed, the guilt snuck in about lying to her family. She’d told them she had a job lined up in Boston, but really, she’d found the apartment and taken it as a sign. If they’d thought she was coming here to start from scratch, they’d have tried to change her mind, or worse, her mother would have arranged a job for her through one of her many contacts. If her mom hadn’t, one of her brothers would have.

  If she didn’t show them she could stand on her own and follow through, they’d never believe she could, and neither would she. Shay didn’t need Brady’s advice or Wyatt’s grumpiness. She just needed to get settled in her beautiful one-bedroom apartment. And she needed to get her business up and running. Fast. Or she’d have no way to pay for the apartment that was meant to be her new beginning.

  Chapter Two

  Wyatt Daniels had exactly two things on his mind: shower and sleep. In that order. After locking up his gun, he pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere near the hamper. He detoured through the kitchen and grabbed a can of cola, knowing the caffeine wouldn’t keep him awake. The Patriots’ cheerleaders performing in his living room couldn’t keep him awake for any longer than it was going to take to shower.

  The hot water sluiced over his skin, and as he lathered soap along his body, he felt bruises that had yet to show themselves. Some would be covered by the tattoos inked around his biceps, but plenty of them would be visible. He’d hit the gym before work that morning and changed his regular routine with some kickboxing. He followed it up with ten hours on shift, a good portion of that time spent running down leads. And making headway. It was important he remind himself that he was out there doing good, or he’d never stop being pissed at himself. He did a quick rinse of his hair and dragged himself to his bed, falling into it, naked and still a little damp. It didn’t matter. He just needed to close his eyes.

  They popped open when his phone buzzed not even forty minutes later.

  “Daniels,” he said, not hiding his irritation.

  “Hey boss, it’s Jimmy.”

  Wyatt threw his arm over his eyes and kept his groan to himself. See? He had manners. “I have caller ID. What’s up?”

  “Prints came back on the Muller case. They’re a match to the brother.”

  Wyatt looked at the clock. It was just after six. “All right. Bring him in. But give me a couple of hours.” He disconnected and tossed his phone back on the nightstand. Just one more hour of sleep, and I’ll pretend to feel human again.

  Since he’d come off his undercover assignment a few months ago, he was having a harder time than usual with the whole acclimating back to normal life thing. He was supposed to see some head doctor—which was protocol after going UC, but who had time for that? He was too busy trying to forget the shit he’d seen. The shit he’d done, had had to do. He didn’t need to talk about it with anyone. More than that, he didn’t deserve to unload on a department shrink and be absolved. His captain had reminded him more than once that undercover meant sweeping a few things under the rug for the greater good. Rolling onto his stomach, he put the pillow over his head to drown out his own thoughts.

  He’d barely fallen back asleep when his phone buzzed again. He didn’t even look at the caller ID. “What?”

  “Um, hi.”

  His brain was mud and his thoughts were having a hell of a time wading through it. The voice sounded vaguely familiar. “What?” He didn’t have energy for more than that.

  “It’s Shay. Your neighbor. Do you remember me? I met you in the underground, well, the parking garage, and I guess we didn’t really meet because you didn’t tell me your name, but—”

  He cut her off. “Yes. I remember you. It was only a few days ago.”

  And what red-blooded male would forget that face and body? Or the way she’d gotten her back up when I’d tried to help her. Though every time she’d popped into his head, he’d done his best to think about something else. How had she gotten his number? As the sleep fog cleared his brain, he remembered he’d forwarded the apartment intercom to work through his phone. Apparently it had been a while since his last visitor.

  “Oh. Good. Okay. Well, this is a bit awkward. I tried Brady, but he’s not answering and you’re the only other person I’ve sort of met in the building,” she said. Her voice sounded tinny and far away.

  “Are you outside?” He sat up, shaking off the last of his sleep haze.

  She laughed, and it should have been annoying, since he hadn’t said anything funny. “Yes,” she said. “That’s the awkward part.”

  “You locked yourself out.” Sighing, he grabbed some boxers and pulled them on one-handed.

  “Yes. But when I do things, I like to go all out. So I also broke my key in the lock.”

  He shook his head, her words muddling his brain further. What am I supposed to do about that? “I’ll buzz you up.”

  “Thanks.”

  He pressed the button and figured he’d achieved good-neighbor status for the day. Others certainly wouldn’t put him in that category, but he didn’t have it in him to care. He needed to figure out how to live again before he worried about friends or family. Which his sister and mother clearly didn’t understand, either, since his phone showed they’d both texted. Several times.

  After pulling on his jeans, he went to make a sandwich before he headed in to the station. He barely opened the fridge when the knock came.

  Wyatt opened the door to find Shay standing in the hall, her cheeks red, her blond hair windblown, and her blue eyes bright with unshed tears. His heart hammered. He did not need this. Her face was innocent and sweet, but Wyatt would never be fooled again. The last time he’d let himself get taken in by a pair of gorgeous eyes, he’d nearly ended up dead. It grated on his nerves that he wasn’t immune to this woman who was no more than a stranger.

  “What’s the matter?” He looked her up and down, but she didn’t seem hurt.

  She wrung her gloved hands together. “Ha. Well, a lot at the moment. The key I broke in the front door? It was to my apartment.” Her gaze was glued to his chest, and he realized he hadn’t grabbed a shirt. The way her eyes widened slightly sent a quick jolt of lust through his blood. He didn’t like people in his space, but what choice did he have?

  “Come in for a minute,” he said. She looked so damn grateful, his heart twisted. An unfamiliar feeling for sure.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, still eyeing his chest. He arched a brow when her gaze finally met his. “I tried to call Brady.”

  The repeated mention of their neighbor bugged him. “So you said. It wasn’t that hard to buzz you in. Brady isn’t the only one capable of doing so, obviously,” he said.

  Shay stayed by the door and gestured to him with her hand. “Do you, uh, want to put on a shirt?”

  The way she stumbled over her words, licking her lips after she spoke, caught him off guard. Partially amused, partially turned on, he shook his head and walked away. When he came back, pulling a tee over his head, she was still standing in the entrance. He checked his watch. He needed to leave soon.

  “I’m sorry to put you out like this.”

  “Like what? Letting you into the building?” He gestured for her to follow him to the kitchen.

  “Well, yeah. Um. I didn’t know what to do about the door. I mean, I need to call a locksmith, obviously, but I wasn’t sure if I should just do that or if there was one Brady would recommend. He said he’s kind of acting manager right now. I don’t even know if there’s a maintenance man in the building.”

  Thankfully, she must have realized she was babbling. Normally, a person talking non-stop when he’d barely opened his eyes would have irritated the hell out of him. The fact that she didn’t was a source of frustration on its own. The rest of her body was stiff and still as her eyes moved around the kitchen.

  Wyatt took a quick glance. Papers and files were piled on the countertops. Grocery bags he hadn’t bothered to put back in the hall closet were littering the floor. His dishes from
whenever he ate last were in the sink. Heat warmed the back of his neck. Why did he care what she thought? They’re rinsed at least. He scowled. He didn’t ask for company and definitely didn’t want it. There’d been no time to clean up. So what?

  “I work a lot.” He knew his tone was defensive.

  Her eyes widened, and she nodded slowly. “Clearly not from home,” she said.

  Surprised by her candor, his lips twitched and he nearly laughed. He hadn’t spent much time with people lately who made him laugh. “No. Not from home. Listen, I have to eat and go in to work. You can hang out here until Brady gets home. He’ll have a spare key and can take care of the front door.”

  Something about her made him want to soothe her, but he shook off the feeling. Not even an adorable laugh, a sexy body, and a kick-ass smile would get past the shield he’d erected. Never again.

  “Thanks. A few days here and I’m breaking things, imposing on people, and ignoring advice.” She chuckled, then stopped abruptly.

  Wyatt tilted his head. Ignoring advice? It was his job to read people, and something told him that if she didn’t want someone’s opinion, she had enough backbone to let them know. He couldn’t help but admire that. “You want a sandwich?”

  He was damn good at his job, and the skills transferred to everyday life when he wanted them to. Right now, he wanted to know if his hunch was right—had someone said something about him? If so, it was likely Brady, since he interacted with damn near everyone. On purpose. Brady didn’t know him, and even if his neighbor was right, it grated on his skin like a rake over cement. Wyatt was a lousy bet in terms of a relationship. Most days he could barely put up with himself.

  “Are you sure?” She pressed her lips together. They were bare and he liked that. Jesus. He could like whatever he wanted, but he did not need a romantic entanglement any more than he needed to talk about his feelings with a department shrink. Especially with someone in his own building.

  “I’m making one anyway. You’re not a vegetarian, are you?” He pulled out deli meat and cheese, tossing them on the counter. She unzipped her jacket and shook her head while he grabbed condiments.

  “Only the meat-eating variety,” she said. Again, her words made him smile. Shay looked around frowning and held her jacket against her. She was wearing jeans and a dark sweater that made her blond hair glow like a halo. Yeah. She was angelic looking. And he was the exact opposite of anything to do with angels. He also felt a lot older than she looked. Integrating himself into the worst of society had aged him.

  “How old are you?” He grabbed the bread and some plates. She set her jacket over one of the chairs and came to help him with the sandwiches.

  Picking up the mustard, she paused long enough to arch her eyebrows primly. “Twenty-four. You?”

  He laughed under his breath. “Not twenty-four.” Too old for you.

  “That’s not an answer. You look older when you frown. You seem to frown a lot,” she said.

  He grabbed the mustard from her hand and squirted some on four pieces of bread. He’d have felt bad about her making her own, except she’d just called him old.

  “I’m thirty.” Other than his sister, mom, and nephew, he hadn’t had anyone in his apartment. It was strange, standing side by side making something to eat with a woman he didn’t want to like. She reminded him of one of his other neighbors.

  “You meet Gabby yet?” Wyatt didn’t socialize much, unless work and arresting people counted. But Gabriella had ignored his lack of social graces—made worse by his last assignment—and, like Shay, actually made him smile. Newly engaged to another one of his neighbors and endlessly sweet, Gabby seemed like she’d be a good friend for Shay. Young woman, new to the city—she’d need some friends, and he wasn’t the right person for the job. The thought that Brady might be got under his skin and made him scowl.

  Shay’s shoulders stiffened. “No. Is that your girlfriend?”

  Wyatt scoffed and closed his sandwich. As he leaned against the counter, he took a huge bite. She took a small bite of hers, and they stared at each other over their roast beef sandwiches. When he’d swallowed, he answered her with more amusement than he’d felt in a long time. “No. One, she’s engaged. Two, the last thing I want is a girlfriend.” A one-night stand? Sure. But nothing with strings or access to his heart.

  Shay considered that and continued to chew as though she were dining with the damn Queen of England. “That could be a good thing.”

  This time he arched his brow. Why the hell did she amuse him so much? Attraction he understood. Anything else? No thanks.

  “Your apartment would probably scare off any potential candidates,” she said. And again, he laughed. He grabbed them each a soda, cracking the top on hers before passing it.

  “Thanks.”

  Wyatt nodded. He liked the sound of her voice. It was soft and sweet. Gentle. She’d make a good audiobook reader. His mother was always listening to those. Wyatt didn’t understand why anyone would listen to anything other than music, but if he was going to listen to someone talk, he liked the way Shay’s words sounded.

  “Good thing I’m not looking.”

  And because he’d missed seeing the way a woman’s cheeks flushed, he added, “You don’t seem scared.” Lust twisted low in his stomach when her light skin turned pink. Not a good idea. Incredibly bad idea.

  She didn’t back down or shy away. “Because I’m not. Scared…or interested, that is,” she clarified, lifting her chin slightly.

  He read liars for a living, but he didn’t have time to call her on it. Plus, it was better she keep telling herself that. Wyatt cleared his throat and looked at his watch again. “I need to go. The door locks behind you. Obviously if you turn out to be a thief, I know where you live.”

  She nodded, her lips forming a pout. “If I tried to be a thief, I’d probably mess it up anyway. I do that a lot lately.” She looked down at her sandwich, and he wanted to push her to tell him more. Which irritated the hell out of him. He didn’t need to know more.

  He needed to go to work.

  “You mind throwing that stuff back in the fridge?”

  “Of course not. Thanks, Wyatt. You’re a nice guy.”

  His chest tightened, and he stepped closer. “How did you know my name?”

  Shay lowered her voice and leaned in. “Is it a state secret?”

  Scowling at her, he put some distance between them. “Of course not. I just didn’t tell you.”

  “Brady did.” She waved him off. “Anyway, the secret is out now. I know your name and where you live. And, unlike some of the other people in the building, I know you’re a nice guy.”

  His heart squeezed painfully, because for one second, he wished it were true. “Said no one ever.”

  She tilted her head, strands of hair falling across her face. His fingers itched to brush it back and see if it was as soft as it looked. “They would if you let them get to know you.”

  A-ha. Someone—aka Brady the busybody—had already warned her off him. Saves me having to do it myself.

  “Take care, Shay.”

  Grabbing his jacket, gun, and holster, he didn’t look back before he left. If only he could avoid looking back in other ways. Wyatt saw Brady as soon as he stepped off the elevator. His neighbor was kneeling outside the double-glass doors, staring at the lock. Wyatt suppressed his grin. New Girl already had the men of the building on their knees. One of the men, he amended. Brady looked up and gestured to the lock and tugged on the door. Wyatt pushed it open.

  “Hey. Someone’s jammed a key in the lock,” Brady said. He was about Wyatt’s height, stockier, probably from lifting heavy equipment. He knew the guy owned an auto body shop and did well. His neighbors might not know much about him, but Wyatt needed to know who he was living next to.

  “That would be Shay. The new girl. I believe you’ve met her,” he said. And already given her your opinion on me.

  Brady’s gaze locked with Wyatt’s. “I have. She did that?” He p
ointed to the lock.

  “Not on purpose, obviously. She’s up in my apartment,” Wyatt said, still holding the door open.

  “Wait. What? What the hell is she doing in your apartment?” Brady’s eyes took on a protective gleam.

  Wyatt straightened to his full height and maybe he pushed his chest out a bit. “She’s in my apartment because she called me when she got in trouble and needed to be let in.”

  Brady put his hands on his hips. From what Wyatt knew of the guy, through the few interactions they’d had, Brady was easygoing, friendly. But he didn’t look too friendly right now, and even though Wyatt knew Shay was better off with a man just like this one, it still rubbed him the wrong way. Especially when Brady pointed a finger at him. “You just left her there?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? I need to get to work. I didn’t lock her up or anything,” Wyatt said. And because Shay’s words popped into his head…they would if you let them, he added, “She’s waiting for you. You weren’t here, and I was the only other person she’d met.”

  All the ego drained from Brady’s posture. “Okay. Uh. All right…I’ll take care of this first; just leave it propped open. I have some tools in the office.”

  Wyatt looked at his watch and swore under his breath. He pulled out his phone to text Jimmy. “Hurry up. I’ll wait.”

  Brady’s eyes lit with laughter. “Scared someone is going to come in and get us?”