The Bad Boy Next Door (Kendrick Place)

by Jody Holford

  Wyatt glanced at Shay and said with a slight sneer, “Don’t want to hold up your date. Just wanted to drop that off. See you.”

  He walked away, heading for the stairs, before Brady or Shay could reply. What did he have to be mad about? They weren’t friends. They were barely neighbors. They were two people who lived in the same building and happened to run into each other now and again. Far too frequently. So there was a little chemistry. So what? The best antidote for those unwanted feelings was standing in front of her right now, holding out a bottle of wine.

  Shay forced a smile and hoped it looked real. “Thank you. You didn’t have to bring anything.”

  “My pleasure. It’s a good red. I’m starved. You can tell me why you refuse to listen to good advice on who to avoid in this building while you feed me.”

  His tone was teasing, but Shay’s defensive shields went up as she shut the door behind them. Brady was absolutely right. While nice enough, in certain moments, Wyatt was not a man to become chummy with. So why did it bug her so much and make her want to say otherwise when Brady pointed out the obvious?

  Because her brother was right. She was stubborn. And capable of making her own choices.

  “Hope you like lasagna. Come on in.” She led the way to the kitchen and tucked Abigail’s number into her pocket.

  Chapter Six

  Shay unplugged the fully charged drill, eager to get her bed together. Thankfully her run in with Wyatt the other day hadn’t kept her from picking up new, six-hundred thread count sheets. She’d nearly wept with joy when she’d seen them on sale. There were a lot of things she could cut corners on, but having nice sheets was something she coveted.

  She’d unloaded the lengths of pine that would become her bed. It was a simple design and shouldn’t be very difficult. With her mattress resting against the wall under her window, she started organizing the pieces. By the time she’d finished putting the frame together, she was sweating. But it was a good sweat. The kind that said she’d done it by herself.

  With her hands on her hips, she surveyed her room. Even with a queen size bed, there was plenty of space. She opened the window to let in some air and welcomed the blast of cold that rushed her face. Time for a drink. In the kitchen, she grabbed a glass, filled it with ice and water, and toasted herself. Independence felt good. And a little tiring, she thought as she set the glass down and gathered up everything for the recycling. In the underground parking lot, two huge bins were housed in a gated area. From the tenant’s side, they could use their key to unlock the gated door. From the other side, city workers could easily pick up the trash and recycling.

  With her arms full of cardboard and the padding that had encased her bed, it was difficult to get the lid open and get everything inside. Just as things were sliding out of her arms, into the bin, the lid went up higher, like it had an invisible string pulling it up. When she realized there was a hand on the lid, not a string, she jumped with a yelp that echoed in the underground lot. She managed to trip over her own foot and a piece of cardboard she’d dropped. Wyatt reached out a hand to steady her, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and pulling her forward. Further knocked off balance, she fell forward onto his chest. Both of her hands splayed over the hard ridges of defined muscle that were easily noticeable through the thin T-shirt under the leather jacket he wore unzipped. The heavy lid of the bin crashed down, vibrating like a tuning fork.

  Seconds. It takes you simple seconds to literally land yourself in trouble’s arms.

  She stayed still, giving herself a moment to catch her breath and swallow down the nerves rising to the surface.

  Wyatt’s other hand encircled her biceps. “You just going to stay plastered against me?”

  God, he was infuriating. She jerked back and looked up at him, hoping her face wasn’t the color of a stoplight. “You should wear a bell. You scared me.”

  His lips tilted up on one side as his gaze held hers. “I didn’t mean to. You’re not really supposed to put that much stuff in at once.”

  Shay ground her teeth together. Why did he always sound so calm? And why didn’t he ever get caught in ridiculous, Target-stalking, fighting-with-cardboard moments? Though he had run his cart straight into her butt, and she’d enjoyed the shade of red he’d turned.

  Wyatt smiled, and it made both his face and her insides soften. He leaned down and picked up a long strip of cardboard that had fallen and easily bent it in half. Long arms and muscles could be a bonus. Especially when they were attached to a tall, somewhat moody, dark-haired neighbor. Who you’re staying away from.

  She straightened her spine, standing taller, which still only put her head level with his shoulders. Even though the chore was done, she told him, “I can do it.”

  He closed his eyes for one brief second, then opened them. “Is there a reason you’re so hell-bent on proving you can do everything alone?”

  She glared at him, frustrated that her independence came across as mulish and stubborn. Something about him brought out all of her repressed bad manners.

  She was gracious enough to admit that his assistance had not hindered, but only helped. “Thank you, Wyatt,” she said as she locked the door to the bins.

  “You’re welcome, Shay.”

  They walked side by side to the door that led to the basement. She didn’t like the silence. It made her edgy. “Were you out?”

  He unlocked the door and pushed it open in front of him, gesturing for her to go through. “Work.”

  Monosyllables. Perfect. “Big case?”

  The door shut behind them as they walked to the elevator. “Let me guess, you watch cop dramas on TV.”

  She pressed the call button on the elevator and grinned up at him, determined to make nice. In a purely neighbor-oriented way. “You don’t say ‘big case’?”

  The smile he gave was like a hard-won prize. “No. I just say work. And I hardly ever say perp.”

  Teasing her again. She wished that didn’t make her stomach feel so dizzy. “You’re funny. When you want to be.”

  He shrugged when they stepped into the elevator. “Try not to spread it around.”

  Shay nodded, looking at him and wondering what it would be like to have him pull her up against his chest when he wasn’t trying to stop her from falling. It doesn’t matter what that would be like. “Reputation to protect?”

  His mouth flat-lined. She could spend far too much time watching the movement of his mouth. “Something like that.”

  He stepped off the elevator with another curt nod, and Shay tried to refocus her thoughts and settle the wings of…too many emotions fluttering in her chest. She could use another drink. Was it too early for something stronger?

  Back in her apartment, she tossed her keys on the counter beside the cake she’d baked for Brady the other night. Cake was an anytime of the day food. She grabbed a fork, remembering how Brady had sighed in delight on his first bite. Thinking about that evening was far safer than going over the few minutes she’d just spent with Wyatt. Brady had been a perfect dinner companion. Funny and charming. His eyes literally lit up when he laughed. And he had a great laugh.

  Shay stabbed her fork into an icing-covered piece and popped it in her mouth. “Great eyes, great laugh. Great taste in cake,” she said to herself, pointing the fork in the air to punctuate her list.

  He hadn’t kissed her good night, and the evening had stayed firmly in friendly territory, but that was where good things started. She scooped another bite. “Not with stalking and arguing.”

  Pushing the cake away before she devoured the whole thing, she put the fork in the sink and thought about showering. She grabbed her long overdue drink and realized there was no point in cleaning up until the bed was made and the last of her Rubbermaid bins were stored. Might as well do it now. What’s one more trip downstairs?

  Her apartment was almost a home. Eager to be completely settled, she left her empty glass on the counter and piled the bins on top of each other. The flyers and business
cards she’d made were on her desk, beside the bins.

  “Might as well get everything done at once.” Then she could shower, relax a bit, and look up some ideas online, return some emails, and maybe phone her mom. She grabbed one of the flyers and a couple of business cards as well. If Brady was in the lobby, she’d ask if she could put them up.

  When the elevator doors slid open, she stepped into the empty car and started to go over her list of what she still needed to get done. She had left a message for Wyatt’s sister, Abigail, yesterday but hoped to actually speak with her today. Planning a baby shower sounded fun and would give Shay a chance to meet new people and make more contacts. Things were going better than she’d expected, but she needed to keep up the momentum. The author signing and book release at the library was this weekend, and Shay hoped it would be the first of many events she could plan in the community.

  She still had a decent chunk in her savings account and, because she couldn’t talk her father out of it, as an absolute last resort, an untouched credit card. Other than the bed and the couch, she’d kept her expenses low. Securing the job with Abigail would give her another boost. By the time Simon came to visit, she’d be able to assure him that she was doing perfectly fine. She might even be able to tell her family she didn’t actually have a desk job. Telling them she had a job waiting at Boston University had been an accident—a lie that popped out just to ease their concerns. And it had. But Shay was done taking handouts. She could stand on her own two feet or she’d have to fall over.

  Stepping off the elevator, she smiled brightly, loving the high ceilings and how they were lined with aged wooden beams. Sunlight shone through the glass doors and bounced off the tiled foyer. Leaving the bins by the elevator, she took her card and flyer to the front desk. Through the glass front doors she could see the courtyard had been shoveled, but snow continued to fall softly, melting as it landed—perfect crystals that disappeared before they could feel real. It was a beautiful building. She might still need a desk job if she wanted to keep her place, but right now, she was holding onto her optimism that the event planning would pan out.

  Without warning, Brady popped up from behind the lobby counter, making Shay’s heart slam into her throat. She managed to swallow her squeal, thankfully. What was with her neighbors appearing out of nowhere? Brady laughed.

  “Sorry about that. Was just storing some stuff under the counter. How are you? Thanks again for dinner. You’re an excellent cook,” Brady said. He started digging through a stack of papers, sorting them into piles.

  Heart still a bit haywire, she gave a shuddery laugh and leaned on the counter, which came up to her chest. “My pleasure. Thank you for all your help. I’m sorry about having to get the lock replaced. ” She nodded to the door. “I hope it wasn’t crazy expensive.” Not that she could cover the cost if it was. She really didn’t want to return her bed, but she couldn’t shake the guilt over all the tenants needing new keys.

  “I promise, it wasn’t a big deal. Mostly.” His face scrunched cryptically.

  She decided not to question him about the “mostly.” She tapped the papers she was holding against her thigh and took a deep breath.

  “I still appreciate it. Listen, I was wondering if I could put up a flyer or my business card on the bulletin board in the hallway by the mailboxes?”

  He shrugged, his easy smile coming back. “Don’t see why not. Others do it. You secure any more events?”

  Happiness bubbled up in her chest, but she just nodded. “A couple. My first real event is this Saturday, but I have a few people to connect with still and am hoping by the end of the day I’ll have at least one more job.” She didn’t need to tell him that Wyatt’s sister was the possible client. “But I’m still just getting started, so my rates are low if you know anyone looking for help planning something.”

  She slid the business cards across the lobby desk. Brady’s eyes crinkled at the corners when he read it. “Shine. Customized event planning to meet all your needs.”

  Shay’s cheeks warmed. Was she completely ridiculous for believing she could do this? Stop it. You are already doing this. “Yup.” She watched his expression, her stomach tumbling like ice in a martini shaker, but couldn’t help herself from asking, “Do you like it?”

  He nodded. “It’s great. Have you run into Gabby yet? She and Owen, her fiancé—I told you about them, right? They want to have an engagement party.”

  “Both you and Wyatt have mentioned her, but I haven’t met them yet. Maybe you could arrange for the four of us to get together?” she said. Brady looked up, his mouth tightening into a frown. Was it the mention of Wyatt? Before she could wonder too much about it, Brady came around the counter.

  “I’d love for you to meet them. They’re great friends of mine, and they’ll adore you.”

  Shay smiled at the compliment, still holding the flyer in her hand. They both turned when Wyatt came into the lobby from the elevators. Where was he going now? None of your business. He stopped and stared at them. Shay realized she and Brady were standing quite close together and wondered how that looked to Wyatt before she reminded herself she didn’t care. They weren’t even friends, after all.

  Brady lifted his hand and waved. “Wyatt. You heading to work?”

  Wyatt’s eyes stayed on hers. “Nope. Gym.” He lifted a black duffel bag.

  Brady laughed, shaking his head. “We have a gym here.”

  Wyatt shrugged, tilted his chin toward her in what she guessed was his version of acknowledgement, and then walked past them, pushing open the lobby doors and headed out the front. When she couldn’t see him anymore, she turned back to Brady.

  Brady rolled his eyes. “I know he’s a cop and stuff, but that guy has some serious baggage.”

  Shay felt the defenses rising in her throat. “Everyone has baggage.”

  Brady held her gaze and leaned an elbow on the lobby counter. “That’s true. Listen, why don’t I talk to Owen and Gabby and see if maybe we can grab dinner with them or something one night this week?”

  Shay’s heart beat heavily in her chest. He was asking her to dinner. This is exactly what she wanted. So why did she hesitate? Because you’re supposed to be focused on you and your life, not men. There was no point in avoiding a perfectly good one, was there?

  “I’d love to. Just let me know what day. Or night I guess, since we wouldn’t grab dinner in the daytime.” Stop talking.

  Brady bit his lower lip, and Shay knew he was struggling not to laugh. “Sounds good.”

  “Great!” She groaned inwardly. Now she sounded like that tiger who loved cereal. Before she could become overly enthusiastic about anything else, she waved her flyer. “It’s okay if I put this up?”

  “For sure.” The phone on the desk rang and he picked it up, and Shay worked on taming the whirlwind racing inside her stomach.

  “Kendrick Place, Brady speaking.” He winked at Shay as he put the card in his pocket. Then he grimaced. “Hello, Mia. No. Everything is fine.”

  Shay’s nerves receded as Brady rolled his eyes. Who was Mia? And why did she make the man who always smiled, frown? Ex-girlfriend? He covered the mouthpiece with his hand and whispered to Shay, “I gotta go deal with this. See you later.” Taking the piles of paper and the phone, he walked to the office behind the desk.

  Shay gave a small wave, but he’d already turned away. She wouldn’t mind the lowdown on whoever Mia was. This building might not have many units, but it had plenty of stories.

  Shay pinned her flyer in the middle of the wall over the mailboxes. Walking back to the elevator, she felt proud of how fast things were coming together. Timing mattered.

  In the basement of the building, Shay shifted the bins, leaning against the doorframe in an effort to turn the knob, but lost her grip. The top bin tumbled, but fortunately the lid stayed closed.

  “Shoot.” She knelt down to restack the bins. Brady had told her that the room was originally the main storage area for items ready to be shipped, b
ack when the building had been a warehouse. She loved the history of that and the idea that one man had started small and worked his way toward something greater.

  Shay turned the knob, but before she could push the door open, pain exploded in the back of her head. She turned but only saw darkness before she fell to the ground.

  Chapter Seven

  He was being ridiculous, yet he continued to pace back and forth in his living room. His eyes caught on the small Target bag. What had possessed him to pick that up? It frustrated the hell out of him that jealousy wound his stomach into a vicious knot at the sight of Shay and Brady standing so close together. What did he care if they were together? Hadn’t he made it abundantly clear he didn’t want Shay? He didn’t want anyone.

  The hurt that had filled her eyes when he’d said they weren’t friends haunted him. How could a look feel like a punch in the face? Hell, he’d been punched in the face, and it didn’t bug him as much as wounding Shay’s feelings did. It had been a while since he’d worried about anyone’s feelings— including his own, which was probably why he was trying so hard to deny the attraction to Shay. If it was just attraction, maybe he could deal. But he’d picked up a goddamn wallet for her. He’d shopped for a woman. Why? Because she’d been standing next to a good guy who deserved her a hell of a lot more than Wyatt did?

  He found himself replaying the little moments they’d shared, like a kid daydreaming. He didn’t want a relationship or a hookup right now, but he thought of her constantly. She’d put him in his place the other night when she’d reminded him they weren’t friends. Wyatt didn’t like being consumed with anything other than work. It was easier that way. Anything was easier than getting tangled up in a woman who couldn’t possibly be what she seemed on the surface. When he’d gone undercover, he knew the downside: being cut off from life, from family and friends. He’d been fine with that because it meant bringing down drug dealers who’d started lacing their product with toxic chemicals.