Kenzie And The Guy Next Door (Scandalous Series Book 4)

  Kenzie

  and the Guy

  Next Door

  Novel #4

  R. Linda

  Kenzie and the Guy Next Door

  Copyright © 2018 by R. Linda.

  All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: May 2018

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-64034-370-2

  ISBN-10: 1-64034-370-9

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  For my children.

  May you love and look out for each other and protect each other always.

  I love you both x

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Epilogue

  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 of 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.

  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 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 that.

  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 gaze to floor, taking in my neighbour’s bare feet and black track suit pants, moving up 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 realized 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.

&
nbsp; “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 to 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.

  Chapter Two

  Jeremy

  I shut the door and switched my music back on low. I didn’t want to piss off the neighbour again. At least not tonight. Opening the window in the living room, I sat on the ledge and lit a cigarette—a filthy habit I picked up in prison—and leaned outside. There was strictly no smoking in these apartments, and I didn’t care enough to go downstairs and onto the street.

  Kenzie was feisty. I liked it. The few times I’d seen her when she visited my sister at the roadhouse, she intrigued me with her devil-may-care attitude and the way she didn’t take crap from anyone. She was strong and held her own. I respected that. Plus, she’d been a good friend to my sister when I was a piss weak excuse of a brother. The fact that she was sexy as hell was just a bonus.

  Harper was going to flip when she found out we were neighbours.

  She’d warned me to stay away from her friends when I made an offhand comment about the sweet little brunette chick, what was her name…? The one with the angry boyfriend covered in more tattoos than I had. “Just because you’ve been locked up and are finally out doesn’t give you the right to hit on my friends. They’re all taken and have integrity. Play somewhere else.” I laughed and told her I had no interest in her friends.

  It was true.

  After eight years in prison, you’d be forgiven for thinking the first thing I’d want to do was get myself a girlfriend or at least make up for lost time, but the thought hadn’t even occurred to me. I was just glad to be out and not have to share a cell with that lowlife Allen or listen to him recount his life story. The man was lucky I didn’t drown him in the toilet on numerous occasions. Only thing that stopped me from ending his life was the prospect of early parole. I didn’t belong in the pen. And I didn’t belong in protective custody with all the rapists, pedophiles, and wife and kid bashers.

  So, the first thing on my mind when I got out wasn’t chasing tail. It was getting as far from that hellhole as possible. I wanted to get my life on track, some stability, and then I wanted to find my sister. And I did that. It took an entire year of moving from place to place, working wherever I could, picking up odd jobs here and there, and sleeping in dodgy motels or the back of my car, but it paid off. I got myself sorted, found a stable job not far from Blackhill, and was able to move closer to my sister. She was my whole life. Always had been.

  She just didn’t know I’d moved out of the roadhouse yet. Her boyfriend Nate had taken her away up the coast for a week or so before she had to return to uni and finish her nursing degree. And I may have conveniently forgotten to tell her I was looking for places to live on my own, because I knew she’d try to make me stay with Uncle Johnny. I needed my own space. I’d lived in close quarters with hundreds of men for eight years. I wanted the freedom and privacy of my own place.

  And I found it.

  The apartment was huge by my standards, two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a kitchen with a small living area. It was like a penthouse suite after living in a six-by-eight-foot concrete box. I didn’t have any furniture except for a sofa that folded out into a bed, a TV, and a stereo. But that was all I needed.

  The icing on the cake?

  Kenzie right next door.

  I didn’t know what came over me. Calling her “babe” was a douche move. But it was true, regardless. She was a babe. And storming in here pissed as hell in nothing but a flimsy tank top and shorts that barely covered her ass did things to a man’s imagination.

  My blood ran cold. What if I’d been some psycho? A criminal—well, a dangerous criminal—and she waltzed around the building dressed like she was? What the hell was she thinking? What if her ex had been creeping in the shadows?

  Harper had filled me in on that train wreck of a relationship and how Kenzie’s ex had been stalking her. Then she went and wandered the apartment building in the middle of the night practically naked. She was asking for trouble.

  I stubbed my cigarette out on the windowsill and decided to get some sleep if I wanted to wake in time for work. The job wasn’t great, and the drive took about thirty minutes, but it paid the bills and meant I got to be near Harper again. I’d missed out on too much of her life already and wanted to make up for lost time.

  ***

  My alarm went off too early. It was still dark out, and four or five hours of sleep wasn’t enough, but I rolled out of bed and got ready for work. As I was leaving my apartment, the door beside me opened, and something thudded on the floor.

  “Crap,” Kenzie muttered. I looked over to see her struggling to pick up her bag from the floor while holding her son, who was still asleep against her chest.

  “I’ll get it,” I said and rushed over to grab her bag.

  She pulled her door closed and turned to look at me. “Uh, thanks,” she whispered and shifted her son in her arms so she could reach for her bag.

  “I got it. I’ll walk you out.” I nodded toward the stairs. Still clutching her bag in my hands, I walked off, leaving her no choice but to follow.

  We walked silently out to her car, and I waited while she strapped her son into his seat. He didn’t even stir.

  “Where are you going so early?” I asked, wondering why she would be dragging her son out before the sun came up.

  “Work.” She shut his door, and I handed her bag back. “Thanks for that. Overslept, so we’re running late.” She narrowed her eyes and scowled at me. “Someone kept me awake all night.”

  “Hey, don’t blame me, babe. I kept my music quiet after you stormed in and told me off.” I raised my hands in defence.

  She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I’m not your babe. We discussed this already.”

  “I don’t know, hospital scrubs look pretty sexy on you.” I winked. She raised her eyebrows and bit her bottom lip, most likely to stop herself from saying something she’d regret, a slight flush appearing on her cheeks.

  What the hell was I saying? I knew I shouldn’t be talking that way, but I couldn’t help it. There was something about her that made me want to get her all worked up. In more ways than one. Shaking that thought from my head, I stood back as she opened the driver’s side door and climbed in, ignoring me completely.

  “Have a great day.” I shut her door and smiled, proud of myself for refraining from calling her babe again, but I couldn’t deny I liked the way she blushed.

  I stopped at the diner on the way to work to get a coffee. Julie looked exhausted, drained, and
Johnny was on edge, cursing in the kitchen and making a racket with the pots and pans or whatever out there.

  “Everything okay?” I asked, pulling up a stool at the counter while she made my drink.

  “Of course.” Her smile was forced and didn’t reach her eyes.

  “You sure?”

  “Just tired.” She pushed the coffee into my hands, and I took a welcome sip. I’d become addicted to coffee since staying here.

  “Tired?”

  “We’re getting old, Jeremy. This place is just taking its toll.”

  I coughed out a laugh. “You’re not old, Jules.” And she wasn’t. Neither was Johnny. They were in their early fifties. Not old by a long shot.

  “We just need a break. A holiday or something. Some time away to recharge our batteries.”

  “So, go. Take some time off. You deserve it. You’ve done more than enough for me and Harper over the years. Take care of yourselves.” Harper had packed her bags and moved halfway across the country two years ago to live with Johnny and Julie.

  That was when I was going through a bad time. I was climbing the walls in prison trying to stay out of trouble, and Harper would visit every day. She wanted to be there for me, and while I loved seeing her, I also saw what it was doing to her. She put her life on hold for me, when I should have been the one to look out for her. I knew if she kept visiting me, she’d hold on to the past and would never fully move on and be happy. So, I did the only thing I could think of. I turned her away and told her not to come back. She left in tears and tried for weeks to visit me, and each time, I refused.

  Then one day she didn’t show up. She didn’t show up the next either. I felt hollow, like I’d lost a part of myself. The part that was keeping me together. Every day, I waited and hoped she’d come back, at the same time praying she took my advice and got as far away as possible. Johnny called me three weeks later to say she showed up at the roadhouse and was staying with him. It was the most relief I’d felt in years. I knew she’d be okay without me if she had him to rely on.