Harper And The One Night Stand (Scandalous Series Book 3)

by R. Linda

  “Come on, love, let’s leave Audrey to get settled in.” My dad wrapped his arm around Mum and pulled her from the room.

  “But what if she’s hungry? I didn’t ask. Oh, my goodness, what a terrible host I am.” Mum gasped and turned back around. “Would you like something to eat, Audrey? It was a long drive.”

  Audrey shook her head.

  “Okay, tell me if you change your mind. This is your home now, and we want you to feel as comfortable as possible. We’re so happy to have you here, sweetheart.” Mum rushed out of the room, wiping at her eyes again.

  Indie and I stood awkwardly in Audrey’s room. Neither of us knew what to say as Brody helped her out of her jacket.

  “It really is nice to have you here, Audrey.” Indie smiled. “I’m sure we’re going to be great friends. Come on, Nate.” She grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the room when Audrey didn’t respond.

  “That went well,” she said when we walked into the kitchen where Dad was making coffee.

  “I think so. It’ll take a while for her to settle in and get used to everyone,” I agreed.

  “Oh, shoot. We have to go,” Indie said as she glanced at the clock on the wall.

  “Call if you need anything.” Indie and I took turns giving Mum a kiss on the head. She didn’t even notice. She was staring absently out the patio doors.

  “We’ll be fine,” Dad said, clapping me on the back and kissing Indie’s cheek. “Go. Say goodbye to Jack for us.”

  Jack was heading back to uni, and we were meeting at the diner so he could have one last burger before he left, since Ryder flat-out refused to cook for him.

  Word had somehow gotten out that Johnny had the best burgers in town, and business picked up. So much so that he had to hire staff and permanently left a reserved sign on our booth. When we walked in, the place was bustling with people. The jukebox was cranking out fifties tunes. The scent of burgers and fried onions wafted through the air.

  Warm hands wrapped around my waist from behind. “How did it go?” Harper asked into my back. I turned in her arms and angled her face up to mine.

  “And I’ll be leaving now,” Indie said, screwing her face up in disgust as I leaned down and pressed my lips to Harper’s.

  “Good as could be expected. It’ll take a while, though.”

  “Sorry I wasn’t there. Didn’t want to make it any more awkward.”

  “You’re here now.” I brushed her hair out of her face. “And I think Brody living there will help immensely.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Guess all that time he spent with her in the hospital bonded them or something. She trusts him.”

  “That’s good. He cares. That’s what makes him good at his job.”

  We walked over to the booth and sat down.

  A young girl, no more than fifteen, came to take our order, but Harper told her not to worry about it. Johnny knew we were there, and he also knew what to cook.

  Burgers.

  “Where’s Kenzie?” Indie frowned and slid into the booth next to Linc.

  “Umm…” Bailey glanced at Ryder nervously. His hands were clenched, and he was rapping his knuckles on the table. “Dealing with Chace.”

  “What happened?” Harper pulled out a chair.

  “He showed up at the apartment last night, drunk as anything, demanding to see Cole.”

  Everyone looked at Ryder as he ground his teeth. “I didn’t do anything,” he said in answer to our unspoken question.

  “I find that hard to believe.” Linc laughed.

  “No, really. Kenzie called the police and didn’t tell us until this morning.”

  “Really?”

  “She’s worried about Ryder. Doesn’t want him getting in any more trouble.” Bailey rubbed her fingers over Ryder’s knuckles, and he relaxed.

  “Ha. Trouble finds Ryder wherever he goes. He’s like a magnet,” Jack said as the doors to the diner opened and closed once more.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Johnny’s voice called from the kitchen as he threw what sounded like a pan into the sink at the same time Jack whistled.

  “Lookin’ for a place to stay. You got one?” someone answered in a vaguely familiar but rough voice that sounded like they’d smoked too many cigarettes.

  “Depends.” Johnny chuckled.

  Resting his head in his hands, his eyes bugging out of his head, Jack asked, “Who is that?”

  We all turned to see who had caused such a commotion in the kitchen and that much admiration from Jack.

  Johnny came out of the kitchen as the guy dropped his bags at his feet, brushed a hand through his hair.

  “You stayin’ permanently?” Johnny asked and pulled him in for a hug.

  “I hope so.”

  “Then I got a place to stay.” Johnny smiled and pointed his spatula directly at Harper.

  The guy turned around, and Harper burst into tears.

  “Jeremy.”

  ***Sneak Peek***

  Kenzie and the Guy Next Door

  Novel #4

  R. Linda

  Chapter One

  Kenzie

  The thumping of the bass was killing me. A slow, tortured, sleep-deprived death. I buried my head under the pillow for the third night in a row. Now, I wasn’t against music. Quite the opposite, actually. I had amassed a pretty decent collection of classic rock albums on vinyl. But what I did oppose was the amp being switched to eleven all night long while my child and I tried to sleep.

  My bedroom door opened, and Cole stumbled in, rubbing the sleep out of his eye with his teddy wedged tightly under his arm. “Mumma, I can’t sleep.”

  Dammit.

  “Come here, honey.” I opened my arms for him, and he climbed in bed beside me.

  “They’re very noisy, aren’t they?”

  “They are. I’ll go and speak to them tomorrow and tell them to keep it quiet from now on.”

  “Can you tell them now, so I can sleep?” He yawned and snuggled into my pillows.

  I banged my fist against the wall and listened for the music to soften. It didn’t. In fact, I was pretty sure they cranked it even higher.

  “You stay right here. I’ll be back in a minute.” I kissed his blond curls and climbed out of bed, cursing my new neighbour I hadn’t even met yet, let alone seen, as I went in search for my keys.

  I was only going to knock on the door and politely demand they shut their music off at a decent hour so I wouldn’t have to resort to shoving my foot up their ass. I’d be gone for two minutes, max. But no way was I leaving my apartment unlocked. Chace had been hanging around for weeks. Constant phone calls. Text messages. Showing up outside. Demanding to see his son. Over my dead body.

  So, I locked the door as a precaution. I didn’t trust Chace. At all. Each time I saw him, he appeared more and more deranged. He’d disappear for a week or two, only to show up again an absolute wreck. I didn’t know what I saw in him when I was fourteen. He was a complete narcissist. If I had more money, I’d pack Cole up and move us into a nice house with a back yard, where Chace couldn’t find us, but I didn’t. So, we lived in a shoebox of an apartment, with noisy neighbours and disappearing keys.

  Where the hell were they? I checked the fruit bowl, the hook by the door, my handbag, the TV unit, the coffee table, kitchen table, the freezer, the microwave, inside my leather boots—all the usual places, but they were nowhere to be seen. I cursed to myself and began flipping the cushions on the sofa, pulling Cole’s toys out of the basket in the living room. And then I searched the kitchen and the pantry.

  Ah-ha! In the cookie jar. Of course. Cole had been playing with the keys, driving the cookies around the table like cars, after dinner.

  I grabbed them out and walked to the door, making sure to lock it behind me. Casting a nervous glance down the hall to make sure no one was lurking, I padded over to the next apartment. It was bad that I worried about someone hiding in the shadows, but I wouldn’t put it past Chace to do just tha
t.

  The music was so loud I doubted they’d hear me knock. Regardless, I bashed both my fists against the door for added affect. I didn’t expect the door to swing open, though. And I certainly didn’t expect to come face to face with a naked chest.

  I dropped my eyes to floor, taking in my neighbour’s bare feet, black track suit pants, letting my gaze wander of the expanse of his chest, the tattoos that beautifully decorated his pecs, arms, shoulders, and finally looked at his face.

  Him.

  I knew him. I just didn’t know how I couldn’t have known he was my new neighbour. Surely, it would have come up in conversation at some point over the last couple of weeks.

  He grinned and flicked a black lock of hair out of his face before holding up one finger, indicating I should wait.

  Why should I wait for him?

  I was there for a reason.

  He turned and walked into his living room, over to his stereo, and lowered the volume. Meanwhile, I stared at the muscles in his back, the way they moved and tensed as he leaned down and picked up a shirt.

  “Can I help you with something?” He smirked, sliding his grey t-shirt over his head and restricting my view of his abs.

  My mouth watered.

  Oh, my god. What was wrong with me?

  “Turn your goddamn music down. I have a child who is trying to sleep next door,” I growled at him.

  He looked at me, then at the stereo, cupping his hand around his ear. “Hear that?” he asked. “No music.”

  “Let’s keep it that way. Yeah?”

  He shrugged. “You live next door?”

  “Clearly.” I turned and stormed out.

  “Wait,” he called after me.

  I stopped and turned to face him, crossing my arms over my chest. “What?”

  His eyes darkened as he looked my body up and down, not once, but twice. Wiping his mouth, he said, “I’m sorry about the noise, babe.”

  I scoffed. “The sincerity of that apology was shot to hell the moment you called me babe. I’m not your babe.” I stalked out of his apartment.

  “But you are one,” he said, sticking his head out the door.

  “One what?” I paused with my key in the lock. I was asking for trouble simply by standing near him.

  “A babe.”

  “Yeah, I get that all the time.” I laughed humourlessly. “You’re a pig.”

  “What? You got a great ass.”

  “You did not just say that.” I acted offended, when in reality, it was kind of nice to hear. No one had ever told me I had a great ass before. No one had ever called me a babe.

  “Not my fault you stormed into my living room looking sexy as hell in that.” He gestured to my clothes, and I cursed myself for forgetting to put something on over my tank top and short shorts.

  “Just keep the music down, okay?” I said, trying to keep my voice even and not let on that he affected me with his words.

  “Sure thing, babe.” I opened the door to my apartment and was closing it when he called out again. “And, Kenzie?” I closed my eyes and willed him to shut up. “I think we’re going to be great neighbours.”

  I shut the door without a word, hearing him chuckle softly from the other side.

  Cole was fast asleep when I returned the bedroom, curled on his side with the bear Bailey had bought him when she and Ryder left for uni nestled under his chin.

  I tiptoed back out to the kitchen for a glass of water. My throat was dry, and a light sheen of sweat coated my skin. It wasn’t an overly warm night, but my body was buzzing, flooded with warmth. I refilled my glass and took it back to bed with me, deciding to settle on top of the covers, hoping I’d cool down.

  I closed my eyes and waited for sleep to overtake me. I was exhausted after not getting enough rest the past few nights, no thanks to my cocky neighbour. Sleep didn’t come, though. Instead, I was plagued by images of tattooed torsos and loose pants hanging dangerously low on very defined hips. I was haunted by whiskey coloured eyes and that rough voice repeating the word ‘babe’ over and over.

  I tossed and turned and eventually settled for watching a movie in the living room since I had no doubt I’d fail to sleep again tonight, and it had nothing to do with loud music.

  It had everything to do with the way my new neighbour made me feel.

  Damn Jeremy Donovan—Harper’s brother.

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  Acknowledgements

  As always, I’d like to thank my children and partner for their support and for understanding when I spend many sleepless nights and long days locked away in my office to finish a book. I love you.

  My family and friends for the continued support and encouragement and for actively taking an interest in my dreams. I appreciate you.

  Limitless Publishing for sticking with me, for all your assistance in the publishing process. You took a chance on an unknown author, and I am forever grateful. You are an amazing team to work with.

  I also must thank my amazing editor Lori, once again, for dealing with my penchant for run on and fragmented sentences and my complete lack of organisation. Maybe by the end of the series, I’ll be less of a mess. You are amazing.

  Huge thanks to Deranged Doctor Designs for this epic cover design. It’s absolutely stunning. You are incredible.

  Also, a huge thank you to Amber because really, she’s the bee’s knees. Without your assistance along the way, I would have drowned under piles of to-do lists. You’re my lifesaver.

  And lastly, it goes without saying, but I need to thank my research assistant, the Sam to my Dean, my BBF Fiona Keane. Again, you kept me sane, always there with much needed advice and ideas, brainstorming with me or just sending me unnecessary but much appreciated GIFs and messages to help the creative process. I adore you.

  About the Author

  R. Linda drinks wine and writes books.

  A coffee-addicted, tattoo-enthusiastic fangirl with a slight obsession for a particular British boy band and solo artist, she is a writer of Contemporary YA/NA Romance and Suspense, sometimes dabbling in Paranormal as well.

  Renee lives in Melbourne, Australia, with her husband and two sons. When not writing, she can often be found reading books to her children and cuddling up with them on the couch to watch their favourite movies.

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