“I know you’re a player—different woman every night kind of guy—”

“Hey—” Griffin started to argue, but what the hell could he say? He was that guy. At least, he had been until he’d made the decision to grow the hell up. For all the good that was doing him.

“No offense,” she said quickly. “In this case, your inability to commit is a plus.”

“My—”

“Seriously, you’re not interested in forever, and trust me when I say I’m not either, Griffin. I just want one good night. A damn fling. And you are s-o-o-o flingable.”

Griffin could only stare at her. This was the weirdest situation he’d ever been in. He’d never had a woman come to him with an offer like this one. He’d always been the pursuer not the pursued and frankly, he was a hell of a lot more comfortable when he was calling the shots.

Still, he thought, there was something to be said for variety, right?

Dear Reader,

Every once in a while, when you’re writing a book, a secondary character comes across as so vivid, so much fun, you just know you’re going to have to tell a story especially for that character.

After my book King’s Million-Dollar Secret was released, I received a lot of letters from readers telling me that they wanted my heroine’s best friend, Nicole Baxter, to have her own hero—preferably a King.

It was great knowing that Nicole had won over not only me, but my readers, as well.

Nicole and Griffin King are thrown together when they suddenly become next-door neighbors. Griffin’s made it a point to avoid getting involved with single mothers … but Nicole is hard to ignore. Especially when she comes to him with an offer—one spectacular night together, no strings attached.

One night just isn’t enough, though, and before he knows it, Griffin is drawn into the circle of the little family and isn’t sure he wants to find a way back out.

I really hope you enjoy Nicole’s story as much as I did!

I’d love to hear from you. Visit my website at www.maureenchild.com.

Happy reading!

Maureen

About the Author

MAUREEN CHILD writes for Mills & Boon® Desire™ and can’t imagine a better job. Being able to indulge your love for romance as well as being able to spin stories just the way you want them told is, in a word, perfect.

A seven-time finalist for the prestigious Romance Writers of America RITA® Award, Maureen is the author of more than one hundred romance novels. Her books regularly appear on bestseller lists and have won several awards, including a Prism Award, a National Reader’s Choice Award, a Colorado Award of Excellence and a Golden Quill.

One of her books, The Soul Collector, was made into a CBS-TV movie starring Melissa Gilbert, Bruce Greenwood and Ossie Davis. If you look closely, in the last five minutes of the movie you’ll spot Maureen, who was an extra in the last scene.

Maureen believes that laughter goes hand in hand with love, so her stories are always filled with humor. The many letters she receives assures her that her readers love to laugh as much as she does.

Maureen Child is a native Californian, but has recently moved to the mountains of Utah. She loves a new adventure, though the thought of having to deal with snow for the first time is a little intimidating.

The King Next Door
Maureen Child

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For my daughter, Sarah, for so many reasons.

I love you.

One

“What do you call a female Peeping Tom?”

Griffin King didn’t really expect an answer to the question since, for the moment, he was alone.

Still, it was an interesting puzzle.

Sprawled out comfortably in his cousin Rafe’s hot tub, Griffin took a sip of his beer. Sliding his gaze to the short fence and the neighbor beyond, he watched as Nicole Baxter trudged in and out of her garage carrying what looked like tons of potting soil.

Seriously, he’d never seen a woman more focused on work. Most of the women he knew didn’t do anything more strenuous than stretch out on a massage table. But Nicole … she was different.

He’d first met her more than a year ago, when his cousin Rafe married Nicole’s next-door neighbor Katie Charles the Cookie Queen. Griffin smiled to himself. Katie was still running her cookie business and, bless her, had left a few dozen cookies for Griffin to eat while he was staying at their house.

But back to Nicole, he told himself with another sip of his beer. Despite the number of times he had been at Rafe’s place, he had hardly spoken to Nicole. All he really knew about her was that she was divorced, a single mom and absolutely seemed to never stop working. Hell, she could give some of the Kings lessons in drive and determination. Made him tired just watching her.

Yet he couldn’t seem to look away.

Maybe it was the whole forbidden fruit thing—the woman he couldn’t have was the one who fascinated him? Possible, he told himself. Although it could just be that everything about her appealed to him.

Shaking his head, Griffin took off his sunglasses and set them on the edge of the redwood tub. The afternoon sun was bright, but he was shaded by a giant elm tree that grew between Nicole’s house and the one he was currently living in.

Rafe and Katie were off on a three-week trip to Europe and Griffin had volunteered to house-sit. It hadn’t been a completely altruistic offer. Since Griffin’s beachside condo was for sale, the constant stream of lookie-loos prowling through his place on a daily basis was making him nuts. So staying here kept him sane and Rafe and Katie’s place occupied.

A win-win anyway you looked at it.

Unless you counted Nicole.

His gaze followed her as she strode across the yard. Her shoulder-length blond hair was tucked behind her ears. She wore a pink tank top and cutoff jean shorts with a few dangling blue threads lying against her tanned, really exceptional thighs. Her skin was a sun-kissed pale gold and her curves were enough to make Griffin enjoy the view—a lot.

Knowing she was watching him back was a nice plus that would ordinarily have had him inviting her over to join him in the hot tub. Ordinarily. But in Nicole’s case, there were a couple of perfectly good reasons why he wasn’t going to be getting any closer to her than he was right now.

“Mommy!”

“Speak of a reason,” Griffin murmured. He took a long drink of the icy beer.

Nicole’s nearly three-year-old son, Connor, was a cute kid, with big blue eyes and blond hair just like his mother. And Griffin didn’t have anything against kids. Hell, he had more nephews, nieces and infant cousins than he knew what to do with. The King family was really taking the old Go forth and multiply thing to new levels.

What Griffin did have a problem with was getting involved with single moms. Frowning to himself, he tightened his grip on the cold can in his hand. He admired the hell out of a woman who could run her life, hold down a job and be both mother and father to a child. But he didn’t do permanent, and when you inserted yourself into a child’s world, there were bound to be complications.

He’d learned that years ago.

So Griffin’s one main rule was no women with kids.

“Though for the first time,” he said to himself, “breaking a rule looks really tempting.”

“What is it, Connor?” Nicole’s voice floated in the warm, late-June air. As busy as she always was, Griffin had never heard an edge of tired impatience in her voice.

“Wanna dig,” the little boy shouted and waved a lime-green plastic trowel in the air like a Viking with a sword.

Griffin grinned, thinking about just how many holes he and his brothers had dug in their mother’s flowerbeds. And how many hours of penance they’d all paid for every dead rose and daisy.

“Soon, sweetie,” Nicole told the boy and tossed a quick glance over the fence at Griffin.

He lifted his beer in salute.

She frowned, shook her head and turned back to her son. “Let Mommy get the trays of plants from the garage, okay?”

“Need some help?” Griffin shouted.

She shifted her gaze back to him. Wryly, she said, “I wouldn’t want to tear you away from the hot tub.”

Griffin smiled. She made it sound like he was hosting a drunken orgy. “Oh, I can always get back in.”

“So it seems,” she muttered, then said more loudly, “that’s okay, Griffin. I can do it.”

“All right then. If you change your mind, give a shout. I’ll be right here.”

“Where you are every day,” she muttered.

“What was that?” he asked, though he’d heard her just fine.

“Nothing,” she said and headed for her garage, her son racing after her like a much-shorter shadow.

Grinning, Griffin had another drink of his beer. He knew what Nicole thought of him. Lazy was no doubt first in her mind, which sort of bothered him, since this was the first vacation he’d taken in five years.

The security firm he and his twin, Garrett, owned and operated was the biggest of its kind in the world—which meant the King brothers were always on call. Well, they had been, until Garrett had married Princess Alexis of Cadria several months back. Now Garrett ran their European operation and Griffin had control of the U.S. business.

But even workaholics needed a break eventually, and Griffin had decided to take his now—while a real-estate agent was parading people through his beachside condo. He had no idea yet where he’d move—he wanted to stay somewhere close to the beach. Maybe a place like Rafe and Katie’s. All he knew for sure was that his condo had suddenly seemed a little too … sterile for him. Tastefully decorated by a woman Griffin had once dated, the place had never really felt like a home, and with Garrett making some major changes in his life, it had struck Griffin that maybe it was time he did some changing of his own.

He scowled to himself and took another drink of his beer.

Strange that he hadn’t realized it before now, but Garrett getting married had precipitated all of the recent changes in Griffin’s life. Not that he was in any hurry to race down an aisle or anything. All he wanted to do was shake up things in his life a little. Get a new house. Take a vacation.

That last part wasn’t working out so well, though. He’d only been “relaxing” at Rafe and Katie’s house for a few days and already he was getting itchy for something to do. He phoned the office so often—just to check on things—that his assistant had actually threatened to quit if he didn’t stop calling.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his people. It was just that with nothing to do, nothing to accomplish, Griffin was quietly going a little whacked. He was coming to realize that he had no idea how to relax. He just wasn’t made to sit still and do nothing. In fact, Garrett had bet him five hundred dollars that Griffin’s vacation wouldn’t last ten days, that he’d be racing back to work and burying himself in timetables and schedules.

Since Griffin wasn’t about to willingly lose a bet, that wager pretty much insured that he was going to take his full three weeks off even if it killed him.

It just might.

Frowning, he took another sip of beer. What the hell did people do when they weren’t working?

He knew what he’d like to do, he thought, letting his gaze slide over Nicole’s trim, curvy body again. But it wasn’t only Nicole’s son that had Griffin dialing down his impulses. It was the fact that Rafe’s wife, Katie, had made it plain a year ago—to all of the King cousins—that Nicole was off-limits. Hell, he could practically hear her even now.

“Nicole has been through a lot, with her rat bastard of an ex-husband,” Katie had said, giving each of the King men at her engagement party a hard look. “So none of you are going to make a move on her, okay? I don’t want my best friend getting hurt by a member of my new family.”

And since there were millions of available women in the world, the King cousins had agreed to steer clear of Nicole Baxter. It hadn’t been a hardship for Griffin, of course, because of the single-mother thing. At least, it hadn’t until recently. The problem was, he thought, that he had too much free time. With nothing to do, naturally his brain was going to wander to a pretty woman. And of course his body was only too willing to remind him that he’d been so busy since Garrett’s marriage that dating and sex had taken a backseat.

It didn’t help the situation any to know that while he was watching Nicole, she was watching him. And it wasn’t irritation he saw on her features as much as attraction. He wasn’t an idiot. He could tell when a woman was interested in him. Usually, he’d be the first one to make a move in this situation.

Pretty woman. Close proximity. All good.

And at least then he’d have something to do.

But he knew boredom wasn’t Nicole’s problem. The woman seemed to be constantly in motion. When she came back out of the garage, awkwardly balancing a huge tray of brightly colored flowers, Griffin scowled. No doubt she wouldn’t thank him for his help, but he couldn’t just stay where he was and watch while she staggered under the heavy weight. He set his beer down and bolted from the hot tub. He was across the patio and through the gate separating the two yards an instant later.

“Give me those,” he said, snatching the surprisingly heavy flat from her.

Nicole swayed a bit when he took the carefully balanced weight from her so quickly. But she recovered fast. Lifting her gaze to his, she said, “I don’t need your help. I can manage on my own.”

“Yeah, I know,” Griffin said amiably. “You are woman. You don’t need a man. Let’s just pretend we had this argument already and that you won. Now, where do you want me to put these?”

He glanced around the yard, spotted the bags of potting soil and headed for them. The grass was warm and soft under his bare feet and water ran in rivulets down his legs from the hem of his bathing suit. The sun felt good on his back, in spite of the fact that he also felt Nicole’s gaze firing jagged pieces of ice at him.

Setting the tray down, he straightened up and turned to find her standing where he’d left her, across the yard, Connor’s hand in hers. The tiny boy was grinning at him, but Nicole wasn’t. Shaking his head, Griffin asked, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“What?”

“Accepting help,” he said.

“I suppose not, and I should thank you even though I didn’t ask for your help or need it,” Nicole told him.

“Well, very gracious. You’re welcome.”

He laughed a little and headed back toward the fence, the hot tub and his beer. She’d made it clear enough that he wasn’t welcome on her side of the fence. So if he needed something to do later, he’d call his assistant again and bug the hell out of her.

He was almost to the gate when her voice stopped him.

“Griffin, wait.”

He looked over his shoulder at her.

“You’re right,” she said. “I did need the help and I do appreciate it.”

Smiling, he said, “I think we’re having a moment here.”

She laughed and Griffin felt a solid punch of desire slam into him. The soft sound of her laughter spilled out around him. Her eyes lit with amusement and the wariness he was used to seeing glint out at him was gone.

“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.”

Small favors, Nicole thought.

“Thanks, Jim,” Griffin said, shaking the other man’s hand. “Good to see you. Say hi to Kathy for me, okay?”

“I’ll do it.” He walked toward the fire truck, and Griffin joined him. “Maybe we could do dinner some night, huh?”

Firemen were still moving around her lawn, rolling up hoses, talking, laughing together. The crowd of neighbors was breaking up, with only the nosiest lingering. Jim and Griffin were still catching up and Connor was now “steering” the big fire truck with a wild grin on his face.

Nicole had zoned out. Let the two old buddies make plans for beers and burgers. Let her son revel in little-boy daydreams. Right now, she was more concerned with what she was going to do next. The sad truth was, she had no clue.

“You okay?”

She glanced up, surprised to find that Griffin had joined her again. “Not so much.”

“Yeah, I can understand that,” he said, “but you’ve got insurance, right?”

“Of course I have insurance,” she snapped, then bit her lip. It wasn’t his fault she was in a mess. Well, she supposed technically it was his fault since he’d ripped the light fixture out of the ceiling while he was changing a bulb she hadn’t asked him to change. But it wasn’t as if he’d set out to burn down her kitchen.

“Then don’t wind yourself up so tight,” he advised. “You’re safe. Connor’s safe. The house can be fixed.”

“I know,” she said firmly, trying to convince herself more than him. It was true, after all. She’d find a way to get it done. She could maybe take a loan out on the house, though she really hated to do that. It was paid for and not having a mortgage payment every month was a blessing she never took for granted. Still, it wasn’t as if she had a lot of options. She also didn’t want to discuss any of this with Griffin.

“You’re right. We’re all safe. The rest will get handled. Now—” she looked over at the fire truck and her happy son “—I think I’ll go collect Connor before he stows away on the truck and I never see him again.”

“Okay, then, you want to go in and take a look?”

“Not really,” she admitted.

“It’ll be okay,” Griffin said.

She looked up at him. “Have you ever noticed that people say that whenever things are absolutely not okay?”

“Good point. But not looking won’t change anything.”

“Also a good point.” She sighed heavily and glanced at her house briefly before walking to the truck. There she retrieved her now-sulky son from the fireman who was his new best friend. When she walked back to Griffin, Connor on her hip, she said, “You don’t have to go in with me.”

He only looked at her for a long second, and in his eyes, she read plainly that he wasn’t going anywhere. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or pissed.

“Yeah, I do.” He waved to the firemen, then followed her around the side of the house to the back.

Funny, just a couple of hours ago, she’d been minding her own business, stealing peeks at a barely dressed Griffin while he lounged in a hot tub. Now they were banded together to inspect what she suspected was complete devastation.

Her stomach jumped with nerves and worry, but there was more than that, too. Thanks to Griffin’s presence, she was even more on edge than she might have been. Nicole actually felt him behind her. It was almost like an electrical charge on the air.

Oh, God. Electrical charge.

Electrical wiring.

Fire.

Yeah, this was no time to be indulging in a hormonal surge.

She came around the corner of the house, saw the back door standing open and, for a second, could only think about the flies and bugs that were no doubt racing into the house. Then she realized insects were the least of her problems. She steeled herself for whatever she was going to find, then climbed the three short steps and went inside.

There was no way Nicole could have steeled herself enough.

The kitchen looked as if it had come through a hurricane. Water everywhere. Smoke stains on the ceilings and walls, like black shadows crawling across the paint. The ceiling itself was pretty much torn out. The plaster that had first rained down on them when Griffin pulled the fixture free was nothing compared to what the firemen had done to contain the fire.

Gaping holes stared back at her when she looked up, as if the house itself was glaring at her accusingly. Plaster dust and water, congealed into a heavy paste, littered the worn counters, and the floor was covered in the stuff.

“Oh. My. God.”

She wanted to cry. And scream. And grab a shovel and a broom and start returning her world to normal. But as her gaze studied what was left of her ceiling, she knew it was going to take a lot more than elbow grease to get this job done.

“House is dirty!” Connor shouted, clapping both hands.

Instinctively, she tightened her grip on her son.

“It’s a wreck,” Griffin pointed out unnecessarily.

Nicole stood in one spot and did a slow turn, letting her horrified gaze take in the destruction. For the first time, she understood completely what the phrase her heart sank was referring to.

“I don’t even know where to start to clean this up,” she murmured, shifting a look through the open doorway into the living room. That room hadn’t entirely escaped, either. Furniture had been pushed aside and puddles of water had gathered on the hardwood floor.

For one second, she remembered the last time her house had been flooded, when her pipes sprang a leak and Katie had rushed over to help, dragging Rafe King along with her. It was the first time she’d met Rafe. And now, here she was, her house was flooded and yet another King was on hand for the occasion.

“You don’t have to clean it up,” Griffin said from behind her.

“You see anyone else signing up for the job?” It would take her hours, she thought miserably.

“We’ll get a cleaning crew in here,” he suggested.

“I can’t afford that,” she argued.

“Well, you can’t do it alone, and I’m not doing it,” he said.

“Who asked for your help?” Nicole’s temper, already frayed by the fire, began bubbling.

“Not you,” Griffin said and folded his arms over his chest. Shaking his head, he blurted, “You wouldn’t ask for help if you were neck-deep in quicksand and sinking fast, would you?”

“If you think that’s insulting, you’re wrong,” she told him. “I can take care of myself. Been doing it for years.”

“And because you can do it, you should?”

Connor squirmed again and rather than keep trying to hold on to him, she stalked past Griffin and walked out into the backyard. At least here she wasn’t surrounded by what was left of her house. The cloying smell of wet smoke wasn’t choking her. And she wasn’t as tempted to sit down on the ground and cry just for the hell of it.

Setting Connor down, she watched him race off to the flowerbed and his beloved shovel. Sunlight played on his blond hair and his sturdy little legs pumped with his eagerness to get back to playing.

When Griffin walked up behind her, Nicole didn’t even look at him. “I know you’re trying to help, but it’d really be best if you just went home.”

“Right.” He moved to stand in front of her, forcing her to look up at him. Those blue eyes of his were fixed on her, daring her to look away. So of course she didn’t. “You really think I’m just going to walk back to the house and hop back into the hot tub? Adventure over? End of story?”

“Why not?”

He laughed shortly. “I think I was just insulted, but we’ll let that one go for now. What I can’t figure out is if you’re really this stubborn or if it’s an act for my benefit.”

Stunned, she stared at him. “Why would I do anything for your benefit, Griffin?”

“Just what I was asking myself,” he muttered. “But if you’re serious about this, it’s just as crazy. I’m not going to leave you here alone with a two-year-old in the middle of this wreck.”

She wasn’t sure why he was upset. It wasn’t his house that had caught fire. “You don’t get to decide that.”

“Well, then, you should decide it. How are you going to manage with no power? No kitchen?”

Nicole didn’t have an answer for that. Yet. She’d figure something out, though. She always had. Her gaze shifted to Connor, sitting in the shade, singing to himself as he piled dirt from the flowerbed onto the grass. Everything in her softened and toughened up at the same time. She would do whatever she had to. For her son. “This is my house, Griffin. Where else am I supposed to go?”

“Next door with me.”

“What?” Her gaze shot to his.

He pushed one hand through his hair and this time Nicole was so stupefied by everything else around her that she barely noticed the flex of his muscles or the dip of his board shorts at the movement.

“The fire was my fault.”

“True,” she said, then shook her head when he winced. “I mean, no. It’s not. Not completely.”

One black eyebrow lifted and she idly wondered how people managed that. Then she sighed. “You were trying to help.”

“And burned down your kitchen.”

She gave him a wry smile. “I didn’t say you had helped. I said you were trying.”

He smiled, too. “Look, Rafe and Katie’s place is huge.”

“I know,” Nicole said. “Ever since they got married, Katie complains that she’s never sure what her house is going to look like from one day to the next. Rafe is always adding something or tearing something else out and building bigger …”

She’d never envied Katie the financial security she’d gained by marrying into the King family. But sometimes, late at night when she was alone, Nicole silently admitted to being jealous of the love Katie had found. The security of knowing she didn’t have to handle everything on her own. She and Rafe were so good together that Nicole couldn’t help wishing that somehow, someday, she might find that same kind of love for herself.

Of course, her romantic history read like a Greek tragedy, so she’d accepted the fact that the chances of that happening were slim to none.

But, she had always consoled herself, she had her son. Her business. Her home.

Well, until today she’d had a home. She looked over her shoulder at the house that wouldn’t be livable for weeks.

“Nicole, you know it’s the best answer. Hell, the house is so big, we won’t be in each other’s way.” Griffin moved in closer. “You can’t stay here. It’s not safe. For you or for Connor.”

“Probably not …”

Clearly exasperated, he asked, “You really want to live in a hotel while this place is fixed?”

No, she really didn’t. Not only was the thought of trying to keep her nearly three-year-old son contained in a tiny hotel room exhausting, but there was the cost to consider. She couldn’t afford to fix the kitchen and live in a hotel.

“Besides,” Griffin added, “this way, you’ll be close by while they’re working on your place and you can stay on top of things.”

True. All true. But she hated owing someone. She took care of herself and her son and she’d done a damn good job of it, if she had to be the one to say it. Depending on someone, accepting favors from anyone, was just something Nicole didn’t do. Not anymore. Not since her ex-husband had taught her the hard way that the only person you could count on was yourself.

She looked up at Griffin and ground her teeth together. He looked so sure of himself, fresh irritation spiked inside her. Mainly because, though she didn’t want to admit it, Nicole knew she didn’t have a choice, and she really hated that.

But, she told herself, the truth was, if this had happened when Katie and Rafe were at home, Katie would have insisted that Nicole and Connor move in. So having Griffin extend the invitation wasn’t really much different, was it?

Her mind laughed at the pitiful rationalization. Hmm. Happily married couple offering her a place to stay, or a matching offer from a gorgeous, single guy who made every one of her hormones stand up to do a fast boogie. Sure. Exactly the same situation.

Frowning, she pushed that thought aside.

Boogying had not been a part of the offer, sadly.

Besides, she reminded herself, Griffin had started the fire in her kitchen.

“You know it’s the only solution,” he said.

“Yeah, it is.” Nodding, she glanced back at the kitchen and tried not to picture what it looked like in there. Instead, she imagined it after the work was done. Maybe, if it wasn’t too expensive, she could upgrade it a little. Maybe this would turn out to be a good thing.

Then her gaze shifted to Griffin, who was watching her out of brilliant blue eyes. His tanned, muscled chest caught her attention for one wild second. If he had been temptation living next door … what was it going to be like living with him?

It was a nightmare.

The next morning, Griffin rubbed eyes gritty from lack of sleep and told himself he might as well get used to it. Sure, Rafe and Katie’s house was big. But he’d been exaggerating a little when he’d assured Nicole that there was plenty of room for all of them.

He’d forgotten that all of the bedrooms led off the same hallway. His room was directly across the hall from Nicole’s, and he could have sworn he heard every move she made during the night.

She’d paced, then sat on the bed with a telltale squeak. Then she’d been up and pacing again. Several times she opened her bedroom door and took the four steps to the room where Connor was sleeping. She’d open that door, walk across the wood floor, pause. Then back across the room, close the door and pace in her own room again.

Okay, it wasn’t the noise that was bothering him. Hell, he’d been known to sleep through a fireworks display, complete with M-80 rockets. No, it had been picturing Nicole, blond hair tousled, bare feet whispering across the floor, that was doing it to him. He wondered what she slept in. Nightgown? T-shirt? Nothing? He’d seen enough of her body in the tank tops and shorts she wore to know that he’d like to see more.

Knowing he couldn’t was annoying the hell out of him.

But he could do this. Play the white knight. Offer her sanctuary, a place to stay, and he could do it all without groping or seducing her. Didn’t sound like much fun, but he could do it.

She was a mother, for God’s sake. And then there was Katie’s threat to consider. Besides, he was thirty-three now. That was the magic number. The age he’d decided would be the end of his days as a player. The age when he would damn well mature whether he wanted to or not.

“And I really don’t want to.”

“Are you talking to yourself?”

He glanced up as Nicole came into the kitchen, Connor on her hip. She was wearing white shorts and a bright pink tank top with matching pink polish on her toes. Her hair was tucked behind her ears and twin silver hoops winked at him in the early sunlight.

“What? No.” He shook his head and focused on the cup of coffee he held between his palms. “I’m just thinking.”

“Wow, you’re a noisy thinker.”

Connor shouted, “Down!”

Griffin winced. It was too early for conversation and way too early for chipper.

“Want some milk, baby?” Nicole asked.

Griffin almost said no thanks.

Connor shouted, “Milk! And cookies!”

Nicole laughed. “No cookies for breakfast.”

Griffin looked at the boy. Such a cute kid. Would it be wrong to put tape across his mouth?

Nicole brought Connor some milk, then took eggs from the fridge and a skillet from the cupboard. She was as comfortable in Katie’s kitchen as she was in her own. “Can I make you something?”

“No, I never eat breakfast,” he mumbled, concentrating on the coffee. Caffeine. The secret to survival.

“It’s Connor’s favorite meal,” she said, and started scrambling eggs, setting the skillet on the stove and in general making a clatter of noise that had Griffin clenching his teeth.

“I’ve decided that I’m going to look at this whole situation as a gift,” Nicole said from her place at the stove.

“Is that right?” Griffin reached out and took away the spoon Connor was beating against the tabletop. The little boy’s features screwed up, his bottom lip poked out and a sheen of tears filled small blue eyes. Griffin sighed and handed the spoon back.

Just keep drinking coffee, he told himself and stood up to get a refill.

“Well, like you said,” Nicole continued, “I have to have it fixed anyway, so I’ve decided to try and look at it like redecorating rather than rebuilding.”

“Probably a good idea,” he allowed as he took his seat again. Connor grinned at him and pounded that spoon with all the fervor of a rock-band drummer.

Griffin was not a morning person. He preferred conversations over a late supper with plenty of wine. He never spent the night with any of the women he … dated, so the morning-after chat had never been on his agenda. Now, not only did he have a woman to talk to, but a two-year-old to endure.

Usually he greeted morning with all the enthusiasm of a condemned prisoner facing execution. Today, even more so.

Nicole set scrambled eggs in front of Connor and the little boy used his fingers to eat while he continued to pound the spoon. Griffin sighed, then asked himself just when exactly he’d turned into an old crank.

“Connor has preschool,” Nicole was saying, “so as soon as I drop him off, I’ll be back here to make some phone calls to the insurance company and a contractor …”

Griffin took a sip of coffee. “You take care of calling the insurance company and I’ll call King Construction,” he offered. “They’ll take care of it and give you a better deal than you’d get anywhere else.”

He watched her and saw refusal glint in her eye a moment before she nodded and said, “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

She might appreciate it, he told himself, but she also didn’t like having to accept favors. He could understand that even as he would have swept right past her refusal if she had argued with him.

“No problem. What’s the point of having family if you can’t call on them when you need ’em? With Rafe out of town, I’ll talk to Lucas. He can probably come over today for a look around.”

“Okay.” She handed Connor a cup of milk at the same time Griffin slipped the spoon from the boy’s hand.

“Not used to dealing with kids, are you?” she asked with a half smile.

“Not at the crack of dawn,” he admitted, feeling a little guilty now at snatching away Connor’s spoon again. Resigned, he gave it back.

“It’s eight o’clock.”

“My point exactly.” When his world hadn’t been turned upside down, Griffin would just now be sitting down for his first cup of coffee. He’d be on the balcony of his condo, staring out at the water, letting the silence sink into him. Then he’d shower, get dressed and arrive at King Security a little after nine.

Ironic, he thought, that his working schedule suddenly looked so much more relaxing than his vacation.

Shaking her head, Nicole focused on her son. Taking another sip of his coffee, Griffin watched her with the boy, saw her eyes sparkle with interest and humor as Connor prattled, half coherent, half in some weird baby speak that Nicole seemed to understand. Morning sunlight lay across the table and shone in her hair and something hot and hard settled in the pit of his stomach—then dropped lower. Any woman who could affect him like this first thing in the morning was dangerous.

Oh, yeah. Them living here together was going to work out great, he told himself with a heavy sigh.

He needed to make that call to King Construction fast. The quicker he got Nicole out of arm’s reach, the better it would be.

For all of them.

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