The Bad Boy Next Door (Kendrick Place) Page 8

  Shuffling her feet along the carpet, despite a shock or two, was reasonably easy. She paused, leaned against the wall near her entryway hall, and gave herself a moment. Her eyes caught on the Target bag sitting on the small table she’d placed there. Curious, she picked it up and opened it. Her heart lurched hard enough to make her forget her stomach. Tears stung her eyes. The purple wallet sat at the bottom of the bag. She clutched the plastic to her chest, breathing slowly so she didn’t cry, but it didn’t work. Tears slipped from her eyes.

  Wyatt came out of her bedroom. Thoughts collided. Wyatt. In her bedroom. In two long strides, he was gripping her shoulders, his knees bent so he was eye level with her.

  “What’s wrong? What happened? What are you doing up?”

  Even in her hazy state, she felt the heat of his hands on her body, through her clothes. She knew she would be wiser not to feel these things, but it didn’t seem like a choice. The bag crinkled between them. Up close, his eyes were darker, more intense, if that was possible. Her skin tingled deliciously where his fingers dug in. She could smell his soap or cologne or maybe it was just him, but it could easily become her favorite scent. He wore casual clothes, jeans, and a hoodie that read BPD. Did he go home and change?

  Wyatt took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head up to peer into her eyes. “Shay? Are you all right? Do you feel sick?”

  She sighed. “You smell good.” She closed her eyes. What the hell was wrong with her? Could she blame the statement on her concussion? When she opened her eyes, Wyatt’s lips were tilted into a smug smirk.

  “You got up off the couch to tell me that?”

  She shook her head, immediately regretting the movement. “No. I wanted to check my hair.”

  Jesus. She should have stayed on the couch. Apparently she had no ability to stop words from flying out of her mouth. Wyatt’s laugh was low and deep, like it was a little rusty. It sent shivers over her arms and, as if he’d noticed, he rubbed his hands up and down, creating a friction she didn’t want to focus on too closely. His movement froze when he noticed the bag.

  Stepping back, he pointed at it. “I, uh…earlier, I came to give that to you.”

  She wiped her tears with one hand, still clutching the bag with the other. “You bought me the wallet.”

  His mouth turned down. “It’s not a big deal.”

  Shay’s pulse scrambled, like her heart had blown a fuse. “I really wanted it.”

  “I got that. Detective, remember?”

  She smiled, but she wasn’t feeling humor. She stepped closer to him, ignoring the dizzy sensation invading her brain. “Thank you.”

  “It’s a peace offering,” he said. He shoved both his hands in the pocket of his sweater.

  “It’s really thoughtful. I love it.”

  “It’s just to make up for being an ass. You know, an olive branch or whatever. Because we’re going to be friends now.”

  Shay leaned her shoulder against the wall. “Right. Friends.” She’d embarrassed herself enough. Don’t move. Don’t do anything stupid.

  It was he who moved. He came closer and smoothed one palm down the side of her head with a gentleness that stole her breath. “Your hair is fine.”

  Shay was going to comment on the word “fine”—which basically meant nothing was as it should be—but she remembered he’d been in her room. “Why were you in my room?”

  One of his large hands found hers, and he pulled her gently into her room, saying, “I’m not real good with idle time.”

  Shay’s heart squeezed so tight it stopped her breath. He’d put the mattress on and made the bed for her. The rich bedding made her room look incredibly cozy, and Shay wanted to curl up in it. With Wyatt. No! Friends do not crawl into bed with friends! Words were trapped in her mouth, and she didn’t trust herself with them so she bit down on her lip. Hard. He turned, noticed what she was doing, and gently tugged her lip with his thumb.

  “I’m sorry. Did I cross the line? I know you’re Miss Independent, but I figured it was better than sleeping on the couch. Nice couch by the way,” he said. He dropped his hands to his sides, stiffened, and added, almost defensively, “I had nothing else to do, and you cleaned my house.”

  The muscles around her heart squeezed impossibly tight, like they were being clutched in a giant’s fist. Shay laughed even as her eyes watered and stepped into him, wrapping her arms around him, squeezing and resting her head on his chest. She’d hug any of her friends, so this was okay. His arms stayed at his sides for a moment, then came around her, almost cautiously. She absorbed the sensation of being in his arms and it feeling so incredibly good.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. Oddly enough, she didn’t feel resentful that he’d taken it upon himself to finish what she’d started. Because he’d recognized that she could do it but had wanted to do it for her.

  His chest rose and fell with a quick intake of breath. “You’re welcome.”

  Shay leaned back but kept her arms around him. “I didn’t clean your house by the way. I straightened your kitchen. I could have probably managed to do this later or tomorrow, but it was kind of you to think of it. I appreciate it.”

  She couldn’t track all the expressions that passed over his features. His breath warmed her skin, and she wondered if his lips were soft even though the rest of him was hard. She kept her eyes on his mouth. His grip around her waist tightened.

  His gaze lowered to Shay’s mouth, and his breathing slowed. She felt his hands flatten over her back, his fingers spread wide. His face came a little bit closer, and if she just went up on tiptoe, their mouths would meet. Her hair was probably everywhere, and she didn’t have makeup on, yet none of that mattered as much as the thought of kissing him. She wanted to. Clearly she’d learned nothing about making choices that would prevent heartbreak. Ten fingertips dug into her hips.

  “I haven’t been that nice to you,” he said. His voice was so low. She watched his lips form every word.

  “You’ve had some moments. You’re being pretty nice right now.”

  He nudged her chin up with his fingers. “You should lie down.”

  “You should kiss me.” So much for her words being trapped.

  His eyes widened, and she realized she’d said it out loud. For once, she didn’t want to take back something she’d said.

  “We’re friends.” His voice was rough, like gravel through a grinder.

  But he didn’t move back. One side of his mouth tipped up and his nose brushed against Shay’s. She arched in needy expectation, and then swallowed a gasp when she was suddenly scooped up in his arms.

  “What are you doing?”

  He walked the few steps to the side of her mattress. “Putting you to bed.”

  She made a low humming noise of agreement in the back of her throat. Yup. She had no common sense at all when it came to men she shouldn’t want. But something told her that Wyatt was different. Or he could be if he’d let them explore the heat between them.

  He set her down on the bed, and she let her head settle into the pillow. When he leaned over her, his eyes were intense…captivating. “I’m not great at this friendship thing, but I’m willing to try. Go to sleep. Please. You need rest.”

  He started to pull back, and Shay gripped his shirt. “I’m fine.”

  Wyatt shook his head and pressed his lips to her forehead. “Sleep, Shay. I’ll wake you in a bit.”

  Her head felt heavier than she wanted it to, and she had plenty of arguments left for why he was wrong. Now that she wasn’t focused on the feel of him and his nearness, the dull ache behind her eyes was more noticeable. “Stay,” she whispered.

  He hesitated, then replied with a gruff tone, “I’m not going anywhere. Sleep.”

  …

  When she woke again, there was a glass of water and two aspirin on her nightstand. She went up on her elbow and gave herself a moment to adjust. Some nausea, but the headache didn’t feel like knives punching her anymore. She took the pills
and noted the water was ice cold, which meant Wyatt must have just put it there. Mixed signals were an understatement where he was concerned. The ringing of her phone cleared the rest of the cobwebs from her mind. She started to get out of bed quickly but realized that wasn’t an option. Slowing her movements and hoping that if she didn’t get to it, the caller would leave a message, she made her way to the living room. She found her phone on the coffee table and slid her thumb along the screen to answer.

  “Hello?” Her voice was croaky, but at least she’d made it.

  “Hi. Shay? It’s Abigail. Wyatt’s sister.”

  It was like she had her ear to a megaphone and Shay winced. Where was Wyatt anyway? She walked to the kitchen as she spoke. “Hi. How are you?”

  “I’m great. Sorry I missed your call. It’s been busy at work. I’m the manager at a Baywater Hotel. We’ve had non-stop bookings.”

  The words echoed in Shay’s brain, bringing a little stab of pain with each one. Wyatt wasn’t in the kitchen. She sat at one of the dining room chairs and noticed she was starting to sweat. Maybe she had gotten up too quickly. Abigail was still talking, and Shay missed part of what she said.

  “So, I have some good news and bad news,” she said when Shay tuned in again.

  “Oh?” Hopefully the woman wouldn’t notice her minimal response.

  “My friend who I want to have the shower for was scheduled to be induced. She has gestational diabetes, and they feel like it’s safer to deliver sooner rather than later.”

  Shay grabbed a scrap of paper out of a book she’d been jotting down her bills in and tried to follow Abigail’s stream of words.

  “The good news is, I want to hire you. The bad news is, I need to have the party this weekend. But, I’ve secured one of the banquet rooms at our hotel for Sunday from one to four so we have a nice open space. What I’ll need for you to take care of is the menu, decorations, and party games. I’ll take care of the guest list because most of our friends are mutual.”

  Shay wrote down some of the things Wyatt’s sister said, but her brain was scrambling. She heard a noise from the hallway, and it registered that the door was opening and closing.

  “I can transfer or email you the money to take care of the costs. I looked at your website—it’s gorgeous by the way. Your flat fee is in addition to the other costs, is that correct?”

  “Yes,” Shay mumbled, her eyes locking with Wyatt’s as he came into the kitchen carrying a brown paper bag in one hand and a gym bag slung over his arm. He frowned when he saw her.

  “Okay. Does this sound okay to you?” Abigail finally took a breath but Shay couldn’t find her own.

  “Yes. Would you mind emailing me what we just discussed though to be sure that I don’t miss anything? And you can find my payment link on my site.” Her head throbbed. Wyatt put his bags down and came over to the table. He glanced at her page and then dragged a chair over to sit directly in front of her.

  Shay gave a weak smile. “If you pay the flat fee, I’ll use that for costs and then square up with you at the end.”

  “Oh, you’re so great. I’m so glad you don’t mind helping. I should have been on this before, but between my son and my job, I don’t seem to have time to even breathe.”

  “It’s no trouble, and I’m really grateful for the opportunity.”

  “Wyatt said you were new to town and just starting up, so this is great for both of us. There are a few events coming up at the hotel, and if this goes well, I could recommend you to my boss.”

  Wyatt gestured for her to put down the phone. “Wrap it up,” he whispered.

  Shay scowled and stuck her tongue out at him, making him smirk. Into the phone she said, “That would be amazing. Thank you, Abigail. I really appreciate it.”

  Wyatt’s eyes widened at his sister’s name, and he made an effort to take the phone from Shay, mouthing let me talk to her. She pushed his hand away. Apparently too many movements at once made her stomach flip over backward.

  “My pleasure. I’ll email you and touch base on Friday. Sound okay?”

  Closing her eyes to block out Wyatt’s irritated gaze and to settle the storm in her stomach, she took a deep breath. “Sounds perfect.”

  She had to open her eyes to disconnect the call, and Wyatt’s heated gaze hadn’t left her face. “Why are you out of bed?”

  She tilted her head. “Because my phone was ringing, and I run my own business so I needed to answer it. Oh, and also because I’m nearly twenty-five and haven’t been sent to bed since I was six. Perks of adulting, right?”

  An almost grin twitched on his lips—high praise from Wyatt. The man didn’t give away his smiles, or smirks, for nothing. “Cute. You understand that a concussion can be serious, right?”

  He looked so worried that she curbed the sarcasm. “I do. And I appreciate you looking out for me. It’s kind of you. Very neighborly,” she said, meaning to tease him.

  His eyes darkened. “This isn’t because we’re neighbors.”

  She waited but it appeared he was going to make her work for every piece of information. “Then why?”

  He turned his back on her and walked to the window. Shay stood, gave herself a moment to make sure she was steady, and went to stand just behind him. She wanted to touch him.

  “It’s the right thing to do. You shouldn’t have to be worried about walking around in your own building. I’ll find out who did this.”

  “It’s not on you, Wyatt.”

  He turned and looked down at her, and his hand started to move, but he stopped the motion. “I hate that you were hurt.”

  “I know. But would you be staying with Brady if he was hurt?”

  She was pushing when she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. Wyatt shook his head and treated her to a half laugh. His wide shoulders shook only slightly. “Brady’s probably a whiner when he’s hurt.”

  “So it’s just because we’re neighbors and it’s the right thing to do?”

  The laugh lines around his eyes smoothed, and his expression turned serious. Even without touching her, he was able to make her feel like she was being embraced. Her heart thundered hard, competing with the riot in her head. He spoke so quietly she wasn’t sure if he’d meant to say anything out loud.

  “When I’m around you, I feel like the world isn’t as bad as it seems,” he said.

  She didn’t know what to say, so she did what she’d been wanting to do—what she’d been fighting the urge to do—since she’d met him. Stepping into his space, she leaned forward and let her lips touch his, like a feather brushing along skin. It was a barely there hint of a kiss, but the air between them ignited. As her mouth found the courage to move, he pulled back, eyes wide. The touch and taste of his lips were imprinted on her own.

  He cleared his throat and tried to back up, realizing the patio door was behind him. He sidestepped her and walked toward the bag he’d left on her dining table. “I brought some food. You should eat something,” he said.

  Maybe the kiss hadn’t affected him? She chose not to concentrate on that thought. “You’re bossy.”

  He gave a half laugh. “You’re stubborn.”

  Maybe. “I’m not hungry.”

  He nodded. “Okay. Maybe you should lie down again?”

  At least he’d asked this time. That was fast progress. “How about a compromise. Have you eaten?”

  “No.”

  “Why don’t you grab some food for yourself, and I’ll lie on the couch while you eat it. In between, you can tell me all about why you decided to finally be my friend.”

  He blinked then gave her a smile she’d only seen once so far. It was like that smile hooked her heart and reeled her all the way in. “You’re cute. How about this? I’ll eat while I watch sports on low and you rest. You can save the friendly heart-to-hearts for Brady.”

  Scrunching her brows together hurt. “I’m not sure if you’re being insulting or charming.” Though the idea of lying on the couch with Wyatt by her side,
doing something so simple, so routine, and couple-like, spread warmth from her stomach all the way through her body.

  He picked up the bag and came back to her, nudging her so she turned and headed toward the couch. “Charming. Some people miss that, but not you. Maybe you should be the detective.”

  She settled on the couch, and he grabbed the blanket from the back of it and put it over her. “And you should be a comedian,” she said around a yawn. Her mind flashed back to the last time she’d sprawled out on a couch with a man, and the memory made her heart pinch. This wasn’t the same thing. Wyatt was different. More importantly, Shay was different. And the fact that he hadn’t even responded to a kiss that made her skin tingle, other than to back away, said there was no need to be concerned anyway. Just two pals, hanging out. Completely heartbreak-free territory.

  His hand rested on her shoulder for a moment longer than necessary, and she felt the heat of his touch even through the fabric of her shirt. “You ever been to Fenway? Maybe we could go this weekend. Not for a game, but you should see the stadium for sure.”

  Lying down made her immediately sleepy. “Not this weekend. I have to work. Events both days.”

  He scoffed. “Shay. You have a concussion. You can’t work.”

  Though her eyelids ached to close, she met his stare. “Your sister hired me to do the baby shower at her hotel on Sunday. There’s not a chance I’m turning it down. And I have an author event on Saturday. I’m not being stubborn. I need to do this. If I rest now, I should be okay to shop for what I need tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Shay.” There was a faint growl in his tone.

  It took too much energy to argue with him, but there was no room for compromise on this one. She went up on her elbow. “Wyatt. I’m not screwing this up. I’m not letting a headache keep me from what could be a really great opportunity.”

  He stood, and she was forced to look up at him, so she let her arm relax. He was giving her a stare he probably used on criminals, but she was too tired, and needed the work too badly, to be bothered.

  “Where do you have to shop?”

  “I’ll read your sister’s email and double check the information, but I’ll probably hit Target for a lot of the decorations and such. I’ll have to talk with the caterer I’m using for the author party and see if she’d be able to fit this in.” She yawned again, her eyes fluttering closed.