The King Next Door Read online

  “No moment,” she said after a second or two. “But definitely a truce.”

  “Also good,” he admitted and leaned one arm on the top of the gate. He watched Connor run to get his plastic shovel, then he shifted his gaze back to the boy’s mother. “So, want to tell me why we need a truce in the first place?”

  A soft breeze twisted a long strand of hair across her eyes and she reached up to tuck it behind her ears. “Okay, maybe truce was the wrong word.” She looked over her shoulder to check on Connor, then turned her gaze back to Griffin. “It’s just, I know Katie and I’m guessing she asked you to look out for me while they were gone and—”

  “Nope.” He cut her off with a shake of his head.

  “Really?” She didn’t sound convinced.

  Griffin watched her, watched the breeze play with her hair and make the dangling blue threads from the hem of her shorts dance. Her nose was pink from the sun, her eyes were as deep a blue as the bowl of sky above them and there was a niggling, gnawing sensation inside him that was hunger. For her.

  To remind himself, as well as to put her at ease, he said, “Okay, not completely true. Katie did ask me to keep an eye on the neighborhood—which would, of course, include you. But specifically?” He paused and shook his head. “Katie actually warned us all to keep our distance from you.”

  “Us all? Who all?”

  “Us,” he said. “The King cousins.”

  “She did not.” Surprise flickered briefly in her eyes, followed quickly by a flash of outrage.

  “Oh, yeah, she did. When she married Rafe, Katie made it clear that you were off-limits.”

  “Isn’t that nice?” she muttered under her breath.

  He lifted both hands. “Hey, wasn’t me. I’m just saying…you’ve got nothing to worry about. I’m not about to cut off my own cookie supply by hitting on Katie’s friend.”

  Although, Griffin had to admit, at least privately, that being this close to Nicole might have convinced him to give up his lifetime cookie connection just for a taste of her. If she hadn’t been a mother.

  *

  Nicole wouldn’t want to give up the cookies, either. After all, Katie made the best cookies in California. Possibly in the world. But at the same time, it wasn’t easy to know that a man would just as soon keep open his pipeline of chocolate chip goodies as take a bite out of you.

  Still, knowing the truth explained a lot, she thought. Ever since her best friend Katie had married into the King family, there had been a steady stream of gorgeous, rich, single men in and out of the house next door. And every last one of those men had treated Nicole like a little sister. Heck, they’d done everything but pat her on the head.

  She’d begun to believe she’d morphed into some kind of sexless, uninteresting blob. Not that she was looking for a man. Not a permanent one, at any rate. She’d already tried that and had found her ex-husband had the shelf life of an overripe tomato. No, she didn’t want a man, but she didn’t mind being flirted with occasionally, and the lack of interest from the King men had baffled her.

  Now at least she knew what had been going on.

  Oh, she could understand Katie’s motivations. Her friend was being protective and a part of Nicole appreciated it. But seriously? She was a grown woman with a son, a home, a business all her own. She could take care of herself.

  “She didn’t have to do that,” Nicole said at last.

  He shrugged. “Looking out for a friend? Understandable. Especially since my cousin Cordell treated Katie herself so badly she almost didn’t give Rafe a chance at all.”

  Nicole remembered that all too well. Katie had sworn off all King men because of her experience with one of them. Rafe hadn’t told her his real last name until he and Katie were already involved.

  “Your cousin Cordell is a dog.”

  “Agreed,” he said amiably. “Always has been, too. Women seem to love him, though, which I can’t figure out. Still, there’s always the hope that he’ll meet some woman who will give him the same treatment he’s been handing out for years.”

  “There’s a happy thought,” Nicole said.

  “Yeah.” He paused, clearly enjoying the possibilities, which made Nicole smile.

  “So anyway,” he continued, “Katie was just looking out for you, I guess. And when she used the threat of a cookie cutoff, she got our attention. We do like our cookies.”

  As annoying as it might be to know that her best friend was running interference for her, Nicole couldn’t really be angry at Katie for having good intentions.

  “They are good cookies,” she admitted.

  “Exactly,” Griffin agreed and gave her a smile that made something inside her sizzle and spark like a short fuse on a skyrocket. Honestly, every last one of the King men was a temptation to women everywhere.

  But Griffin…he was danger, temptation and seduction on a whole new level. There was something about him—the smile, maybe, or the casual air he had—that made her feel things she hadn’t experienced in, oh…forever. Okay, not that long, but long enough.

  Nicole had spent the last few days surreptitiously watching him. After all, he was hard to miss, since he spent nearly every waking moment—practically naked—in that damn hot tub she could see from her backyard. Besides, she would have dared any living, breathing woman to avoid watching him—impossible really, since he looked amazing, with all that black hair and the blue eyes and a dimple—not to mention the sharply defined abs that practically begged a woman to stroke and caress his skin and…

  Okay, she was clearly getting off track here. But who wouldn’t be, she asked herself. With Griffin King standing not two feet from her, dripping wet, his board shorts dipping low enough on his hips to make her wonder what it might be like to give them a little tug and…

  God.

  “Are you going into a fugue state or something?” Griffin asked.

  “Huh? What?” Oh, perfect, Nicole. Get caught mentally slavering over him. Nice. “No, I’m fine. Just busy.”

  “Yeah, I’ve noticed.” He rubbed one palm across his chest and her gaze followed the motion.

  Damn it. It was like being hypnotized by testosterone.

  “Don’t you ever just sit down in the shade?” he asked, then stretched lazily. His chest muscles shifted; his board shorts dipped a little lower.

  Nicole swallowed hard, closed her eyes briefly, then said, “No time.” Just saying it reminded her how busy she really was.

  Running her own business meant she could work most mornings and spend afternoons doing the million and one things that constantly needed doing around the house. But somehow weekends were still jam-packed. Amazing how chores stacked up. Plus, there was Connor. She glanced at her beautiful boy and smiled. It wasn’t just the house she had to concentrate on. It was spending time with Connor. Making sure her son knew that he was the most important person in the world to her.

  So yeah, her days were really crowded, unlike some Kings-who-reclined-in-hot-tubs.

  “Connor’s digging.”

  She didn’t even look. “Of course he is. A little boy. A shovel. Dirt.”

  “You’re a good mom.”

  Surprised, she looked up into Griffin’s eyes. “Thanks. I try.”

  “It shows.”

  Gazes locked, a couple of humming seconds passed as they stared at each other. Nicole broke first.

  “Well, I’d better get back to it.”

  “Planting,” he said.

  “Yes, but first, changing the lightbulb in the kitchen.” She checked on Connor, then looked back at the man standing way too close to her. “Would you mind keeping an eye on him while I get the ladder from the garage?”

  “Ladder?” He frowned.

  “Kitchen light? Ceiling?”

  He nodded. “You watch Connor. I’ll get the ladder.”

  He was already headed for the garage when she called out, “You don’t have to do that, I can—”

  Lifting one hand to acknowledge her, he shouted back
, “We’ve already had that conversation, remember? It’s no problem.”

  “No problem,” she muttered. Nicole shot a look at her son, happily digging holes.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the help. But Nicole had been on her own for a while now. She wasn’t a delicate blossom. She knew how to fix plugged toilets and dripping sinks, and she took out her own garbage and killed her own spiders.

  She didn’t need a man’s help.

  But, a small voice in her mind whispered, was it really so bad to have it once in a while?

  “Fine.” She watched Griffin stride from the garage to the back door. The old wooden ladder was balanced on one shoulder and those darn board shorts of his looked to have dipped another inch or so. “He’ll help, then he’ll go home,” she assured herself.

  Then she could go back to watching him. From a safe distance.

  “Where’s the new lightbulb?”

  “It’s on the counter. Griffin—”

  He shot her that fast, amazing grin again. “Be done in a minute.”

  No, he wouldn’t. Her kitchen, like the rest of the small house her grandmother had left her, was old and out of date. The fluorescent lightbulb in the ancient fixture was three feet long and almost impossible to coax out of its fasteners, if you didn’t know the little tricks to manage it. She’d have to help.

  She glanced at her son. He was busy with his shovel. Just like the pirates in his favorite book, he was probably looking for buried treasure. She’d be able to see him from the kitchen window. “Connor, honey, you stay right there, okay?”

  “’Kay!”

  Hurrying into the kitchen after Griffin, Nicole saw that he already had the ladder positioned under the burned-out bulb. As he took one step up, the whole thing swayed and he looked down at her in amazement.

  “You actually stand on this thing? Got a death wish?”

  “It works fine,” Nicole argued, somehow feeling as if she had to defend her late grandfather’s ladder. She was pretty sure it was as old as the house, but it was perfectly serviceable. “You just weigh more than I do.”

  “If you say so,” he muttered, and climbed up another couple of steps, still swaying like he was standing on the prow of a boat. “I’ll have the old bulb out in a second.”

  “It’s not easy,” she said. “You have to wiggle to the left twice, then back to the right and once more to the left.”

  “It’s a lightbulb, not a combination lock.”

  “That’s what you think,” Nicole told him, trying to keep from staring at his flat abdomen—which just happened to be at eye level. It had been way too long, Nicole thought, if just being this close to Griffin King was making her feel a little weak in the knees.

  Damn it, she knew better. Griffin, like every other King, was a player. A master of flirtation and seduction. And didn’t that sound interesting, her mind whispered.

  Her mind drifted as she considered tugging at his board shorts just a little. Dragging them down until—

  “I’ve got it,” he grumbled, shaking her out of her thoughts, thank heaven.

  “Be careful.” She frowned up at him, but he was too busy with the light to notice. “Remember to wiggle to the left first.”

  “It’s just. A. Little. Stubborn.” He yanked the bad bulb out and held it one hand triumphantly. “Hah!”

  A small, blond torpedo raced through the open back door. Connor was running so fast he never saw the ladder until he crashed into it.

  Nicole let go of the ladder to grab her son.

  The ladder swayed sharply to the right.

  Griffin’s balance dissolved and he reached up with his free hand to grab the light fixture to steady himself.

  He pulled it right out of the ceiling.

  His eyes went wide.

  Nicole gasped.

  Chunks of old plaster fell down on them like hail.

  Connor wailed.

  The ladder tipped farther.

  Griffin toppled to one side, then jumped, still clutching the remnants of the light fixture he’d yanked free.

  Pop. Pop. Pop.

  Three little sounds.

  Nicole looked up to see a wisp of smoke and the first flames erupt. “Oh, God!”

  “Everybody out!” Griffin dropped the lightbulb and grabbed hold of Nicole and Connor, steering them out the back door to safety.

  Two

  The firemen were very nice.

  They let Connor wear one of their helmets and sit in the big truck, while an older fireman kept watch.

  Nicole was grateful. She needed a minute. Or two. Or maybe thirty. She sighed as she let her gaze slide from her son to the mess that was her house. Fire hoses were stretched across the lawn, now muddy from too much water and too many feet. Neighbors were gathered around watching the excitement—even Mr. Hannity, who had to be a hundred and ten, had pried himself off his front porch to get a better view. And Griffin was talking to one of the firemen like they were old friends.

  Standing alone at the end of her driveway, Nicole listened halfheartedly to the conversations and noise around her. There was a buzzing in her ears that she thought might be the personification of the panic beginning to chew at her insides.

  Her knees were still a little shaky and her stomach did an occasional slow roll. Probably leftover adrenaline still pumping through her system. Griffin had moved so fast, snatching Connor from her, then grabbing hold of her arm to pull her out of the kitchen. Thank God she kept her cell phone in her pocket. She’d used it to call the fire department the moment they were clear of the house.

  Her house.

  She hadn’t been back inside yet. Didn’t even know if she wanted to go look at the disaster that was now her kitchen. Nicole could only imagine what she’d find, and her imagination was pretty darn good. And while those dismal thoughts were spinning through her mind, more piled on for the trip.

  Insurance.

  Of course the house was insured, but there was a huge deductible—to make the payments easier to live with. And now, thinking of trying to meet that deductible was giving Nicole cold chills in spite of the sun beating down on her shoulders.

  How was she going to pay for this?

  How could she not?

  “Jim says it’s not too bad, considering.”

  “Huh? What?” Nicole looked up at Griffin, surprised to find him standing right in front of her. Her mind really was tangled up in knots of misery if she hadn’t noticed his approach.

  He tipped his head to one side and studied her. “Another fugue state? Or shock? Maybe you should sit down.”

  “I don’t want to sit down,” she said. In fact, what she wanted to do was throw herself onto the grass and kick and scream for a while. But since that wasn’t going to happen, she asked, “I want to find out what shape my house is in and see if it’s safe.”

  “Jim says it is.”

  “The fireman you were talking to?”

  “Yeah.” Griffin shrugged. “Don’t get your feminist temper rolling. I didn’t head him off to get information. I went to school with him, can you believe that coincidence? Jim Murphy. He’s a fire captain now. Married, got a million kids…”

  “All very nice for Jim,” Nicole said tightly. “What did he say about my kitchen?”

  “Oh.” The smile dropped from his face. “He’ll be over to talk to you in a minute. He’s just checking the place out again before they wrap things up and leave.”

  “So the fire’s out.”

  “Absolutely,” he assured her, and reached out to lay one hand on her shoulder briefly. “Electrical, but you knew that.”

  Yes. She’d probably be hearing that series of pops in her dreams for weeks.

  “Apparently your wiring’s shot,” Griffin told her.

  “It was working fine until today,” she argued, even though she knew he was right. The wiring was old; the pipes were antiques. But there just never seemed to be enough money to fix everything. She’d made plans, of course. Big plans, for a remodel
of the kitchen, for adding a huge bath onto the master bedroom. Maybe a deck off the kitchen…but they were just plans. Pie in the sky, as her grandmother used to say.

  “Yeah, and I feel really bad about that,” Griffin said, bringing her back to the conversation. “If I hadn’t tugged on the light fixture…”

  A part of her wanted to agree. That angry, desperate voice inside her wanted to shout, I told you I didn’t need any help! But sadly, fury wasn’t going to change anything. She shook her head and waved one hand, dismissing his guilt. “Things happen. Nothing to do about it now, anyway.”

  In fact, she was lucky Griffin hadn’t fallen off the ladder and cracked his skull, too. Then she’d be dealing not only with fire damage but doctor bills, as well.

  “Besides,” she said, turning her gaze to look at Connor, grinning at her from under the huge helmet he was still wearing, “we’re all safe. That’s what counts.”

  “Good attitude,” Griffin said, and turned when Jim Murphy walked up to join them.

  “Ms. Baxter,” he said and shook her hand. “The house is safe for you to enter again, but I wouldn’t advise staying there until you’ve had all of the wiring checked by an electrician.”

  “Right,” she mumbled. “But the fire’s out? It’s not going to spring back into life?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “No, it won’t. The power’s been shut off to the kitchen circuits. But because of the age of the house, that circuit also runs through half of the living room, so there’s no power in there, either. Just to be safe, I’d have an electrician and a contractor check everything out before you turn the power back on.”

  “Of course.” Professionals. Electricians. Contractors. Then there would be plasterers, painters…visions of dollar bills flying out an open window popped into Nicole’s mind and she again fought the urge to kick and scream. Pushing the worry to the back of her mind, she forced a smile and said, “Thank you. I appreciate you getting here so quickly.”

  “Glad we could help,” the man said and looked over his shoulder at the house. “It’s built well. These old houses have good bones. I know it seems like a lot now, but,” he added, turning back to smile at her, “it could have been a lot worse. As it is, once the main problem is fixed, you’ll be good. There’s no structural damage.”