Bedding The Biker Next Door Read online

  Monica smiled. “Yes, we’re headed down to San Diego tomorrow. Thanks again for the time off.”

  “Of course, sweetie. See you when you get back.”

  Jill closed the door behind Monica. While Liz read If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, Jill picked up toys and wiped down tables, but her mind remained on Cole.

  Stella used to talk about her “sweet, beautiful boy” all the time. She never mentioned he was over six feet tall and built like a Mack truck, or that he had eyes that could melt a woman’s panties off. Okay, so that would have been weird if she had said that, but still… Stella had talked about how much he loved oatmeal cookies, board games, and Harry Potter books. But that was when he was younger. Now that Cole looked like a hot extra from the Sons of Anarchy set, she couldn’t help but smile. She pictured him with his tattoo sleeves and muscular physique playing Scrabble or reading The Prisoner of Azkaban.

  Last night, he’d been a sex god. Today, he was just a man who’d suffered a great loss. That unnerved her. It made her want to turn around, march back over there, and take Cole in her arms. With no other purpose than to comfort him.

  She had to remind herself more than once she’d turned down his invitation to go back over there for a reason. For several reasons, actually. One, given the strong pull she already felt toward Cole, it stood to reason the more time she spent with him the harder it would be for her when he left. And second, even if she gave free rein to her deepest fantasies—even if Cole stuck around for a while, and they somehow ended up exploring their relationship beyond a one-night stand—what was the point? He’d already spent most of his life sacrificing his dreams for someone he loved. He didn’t need the kind of burdens that getting involved long term with Jill might entail. Honestly, no man did, but especially not a man as vibrant as Cole.

  “Miss Jill!” One of the children brought her out of her reverie. Story time was over, and Liz was getting a craft project out for later.

  “Yes, Anaya?”

  The little brunette tugged at her hand. “Who is the man next door?”

  The question surprised Jill. Anaya wasn’t one of her more curious children. Before she could say anything, Stanley said, “He’s an evil giant. He was sent here from his land to spy on us. He eats kids!”

  “Stanley!” Jill said, trying not to smile. She supposed that to someone who wasn’t quite four feet tall yet, Cole might look like a giant. “First of all, it’s not nice to try and frighten your friends, and second of all, we don’t say mean things about people before we get to know them. It’s not nice.”

  “He seemed grumpy to me,” Stanley pouted.

  Jill saw Liz out of the corner of her eye, holding back a chuckle, but she wouldn’t look at her. If she did, she would surely laugh. Besides, she had no idea what to tell Liz about her adventures with Stanley’s giant. So far, she’d managed to dodge Liz’s questions about what had happened after she’d left the bar last night, saying only that she and Cole had talked before she’d headed home. But Liz had given her that look that only a best friend can—like she knew Jill was withholding information. Jill wasn’t ready to talk about her night with Cole—maybe she’d never be—but she couldn’t keep to herself the fact that Cole was Stella’s son and was currently visiting the house next door.

  She’d have to tell Liz.

  But only when they had some privacy.

  She crouched in front of Stanley. “Sometimes when you’re having a bad day, you seem grumpy too, right? You wouldn’t want us to think that was how you were all the time based only on one day, would you?”

  Stanley’s eyes fell to the carpet. “No, Miss Jill.”

  “Good. Now I’ll tell you what we’re going to do before play time. We’re going to go around the circle and say one thing that we like about each one of our friends. Do you all know what that means?” They mumbled and nodded and a couple of the smaller kids continued to stare at her, having no clue what she was talking about. “Stanley, you go first.”

  Stanley made a grumpy face, but he seldom defied Jill. He stood up and said, “I like Michael’s blond hair. I like Anaya’s purple dress. I like Adam’s brown skin, and I like Chloe’s red hair bow. And I like the giant’s motorcycle…”

  Jill smiled at the little boy. “Much better.”

  They all took their turns, and when the last one finished, Jill told them they could get out their toys before they started on the craft project. Controlled havoc ensued, and thoughts of Cole finally seeped from her mind. At one point, though, she thought she sensed movement outside the living room window, but when she went over, no one was outside. Could it have been Cole? She hoped so, because the thought of a stranger loitering around the daycare worried her, made her all the more determined to get an upgraded security system for the house.

  As the hours passed, the children’s parents came, one at a time, to pick them up and take them home. Eventually, only Stanley was left. He lived with his dad, a single father in his late thirties whose ex-wife had died several years ago. Jill had been impressed with Jason Baker, a hard-working man who seemed to adore his son. Lately, however, he’d begun to make her uncomfortable. There was nothing specific she could put her finger on, and it actually made her feel a little guilty, especially given how wonderful Stanley was.

  Stanley sat on the floor playing with some blocks when Liz slipped her arm through Jill’s and whispered, “I know we can’t talk about it in front of our little one here, but I’m going to call you later, so we can dish about the giant next door.” She winked. “Right after you come clean about how long you and that guy from last night ‘talked.’”

  Jill tried to hide her smile. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  Liz shot her an “Oh please” look, and Jill bit her lip. “Okay,” she said softly so Stanley couldn’t hear. “There’s nothing to talk about other than the huge coincidence that the giant is the same guy who helped us out at the bar last night, Stella’s son, and probably our new landlord.”

  “What?” Liz squeaked. “That’s…”

  “A coincidence,” Jill warned with a raised eyebrow.

  “You mean lucky coincidence. Holy moly.” Liz fanned herself. “Well, I have a feeling if there isn’t a story to tell now, there soon will be.” She elbowed Jill.

  Jill glanced toward Stella’s house, feeling rattled, as if Cole could hear them. “It’s not like that. He’s grieving for his mother.”

  “Then it’s too bad he’s grieving all alone,” Liz whispered. Before Jill could answer, she added, “Do you mind if I take off a few minutes early?”

  “Not at all,” Jill told her. “I’ll bake a batch of cookies with Stanley while we wait for his dad.”

  Five minutes later, Jill and Stanley went into the kitchen and mixed flour, eggs, sugar, vanilla, oatmeal, and spices, then indulged in the heavenly scent of baking cookies until Stanley’s father finally got there close to six. After packaging up a dozen cookies for Stanley and his dad and then sending the little boy on his way home, Jill went back inside. She walked into her bedroom and caught sight of herself in the floor-length mirror.

  “Oh my God!” She had chalk and paint all over her clothes. Normally, she didn’t care. After all, it came with daycare territory, but she’d gone next door like this?

  She showered, and instead of putting on sweats or PJs like she normally would for an evening in, she threw on a fitted top and jeans then dabbled on some perfume behind her earlobes and cleavage, remembering the feel of Cole’s mouth on both places. After she dried her hair and put on just a little bit of make-up, she studied herself in the mirror again.

  She hadn’t been planning on going next door. She honestly hadn’t. In fact, she’d planned to steer clear of Cole—that’s what they’d agreed to, after all. No more interaction.

  But now…

  Now, all she could think about was what Liz had said—that Cole shouldn’t have to grieve alone. About how she wanted to take Cole in her arms and kiss away his pain. And about all the ways,
now that she was bathed and clean, Cole could mess her up again.

  Chapter Six

  Cole was digging through his mother’s cabinets looking for something to eat that hadn’t gone bad when there was a knock on the front door. Jill? They’d agreed not to connect anymore, but he couldn’t help hoping it was her. He focused on not rushing to the door and took his time to open it, then regretted taking any time at all. Sans paint and chalk, looking fresh and beautiful, Jill stood there, holding a plate, the sweet scent of baked goods floating in the air along with a light floral perfume.

  Damn, she looked good. Her dark hair shiny and light eyes filled with both hesitation and determination. Why did her contradictions turn him on so damned much? And why was she back?

  Send her away—stop playing with fire! half his brain told him.

  Explore every inch of her body and find the hiding spots for her perfume, the other half of his brain argued back.

  “Hi again!” she said a little too brightly. Covering up nerves maybe? That only made her more desirable. “I know I said we shouldn’t…and that we weren’t… but you see, I’m just next door, and we made cookies earlier today with the kids. I thought you might like some.” She pushed the plate toward him.

  How appropriate—enticing him with her cookies. Evil woman, he chuckled to himself.

  He didn’t even look at the tasty treats, though. No, he was too busy remembering what her face had looked liked when she’d climaxed last night. He’d been imagining it repeatedly since he’d woken up this morning. In fact, Jill seemed to be the only thing he was capable of thinking about when he wasn’t thinking about his mother.

  Talk about fucked up.

  Against his better judgment, Cole stepped back and motioned her in. “I was just starving my ass off.”

  Her eyes brightened. “Well, you’re in luck. I make the best oatmeal cookies in the world. So you won’t need to lose your ass.”

  Cole smiled. Cute she was, there was no doubt of that. However, he doubted she made oatmeal cookies better than his mom, because no one, in all his twenty-nine years, had even come close to dethroning his mother’s baking.

  “Why, thank you. I’ll take those,” he said, accepting the plate and setting it on the already cluttered coffee table. “Have a seat. The house is pretty empty, but I have warm wine.”

  Jill laughed and sat down. “I’m good, thanks. Save your warm wine for a special occasion. Sit with me,” she said, patting the spot next to her on the sofa.

  Cole thought about it a moment. Only a few hours ago she’d told him they should keep their distance, yet here she was, sitting comfortably in his mother’s house, wearing perfume and a smile. Was she playing games? He didn’t think so. In fact, he got the feeling her change of heart was more about her own conflicting feelings. She wanted to stay away, but she was just as attracted to him as he was her. At least, that was the scenario he wanted to believe.

  However, there was another option: that since Jill now knew he’d lost his mother, she was just being nice. God, he hoped not. Empathy he understood and could respect—pity he did not need nor want, however. He blew out a harsh breath and joined her on the sofa.

  Jill lifted the plate toward him. “Are you going to try one?”

  “Hell, yes,” he said. He took a cookie and bit into it. He closed his eyes, tasting the cinnamon, nutmeg, and allspice. “Oh, my God!”

  “What?” Jill looked worried.

  Pleasure wound its way inside him. “These are amazing. Wow, I have to admit when you said you made the best oatmeal cookies in the world, my first thought was that there was no way they would be better than the ones my mom used to make.”

  Jill flashed him a smile. “Well…I did cheat. Your mother gave me the recipe.”

  “She did?”

  Jill nodded, ducking her head. “She used to make them and bring them over for the kiddos. They loved them. Towards the end…I mean, when she started… Anyways, she gave me the recipe so I could keep making them for the kids.” She bit her lip. “I did it again. I’m sorry.”

  “No, no. Don’t be sorry. My mom loved kids. I’m sure it was fun for her having you guys next door.”

  “Yes, she liked to sit on the porch and watch them play.”

  Just like she’d do when Cole was a kid. He stood. “You want some water? I think I’m going to get some water.”

  “Sure, water would be great,” she said.

  Cole went into the kitchen and poured two glasses of ice water. He drank half his glass before heading back into the living room.

  “Here you go.” He sat down next to Jill again. “So what part of LA are you from?”

  “I grew up in Orange County.”

  “Oh, an O.C. girl. Is Daddy a doctor?”

  A strange look crossed Jill’s face. She seemed to recover quickly before she said, “No, he was an artist.”

  “Was?”

  “Yes. He passed a few years ago.”

  Cole craned his neck to catch her downcast gaze. “Now I’m the one who’s sorry.”

  She shrugged. “It’s okay.”

  He could tell it wasn’t, but she didn’t seem any more interested in talking about her father than Cole was in talking about his mom, so he let it go.

  “So what do you do, Cole?” Jill folded her hands in her lap.

  She’d entered into the banal, let’s-get-to-know-each-other type of discussion. Definitely different from the Jill he’d known last night…the woman who’d all but ordered him to fuck her. Was that woman really so different from the Jill who sat sedate and prim on his couch?

  Didn’t matter, really. He’d let her set the pace in whatever this now was between them. Friendship? Neighbors? His mind was all for the new dynamic, but hell—his body still wanted her, and bad. “I’m self-employed. I co-own a security company.”

  “Security? Like for weddings and parties, things like that?”

  He fought to keep from brushing his fingers through her hair. Indulging himself in the silken strands. “No, more like for rich, famous people. Rock stars, movie stars, politicians…”

  “Wow, seriously? Who’s the most famous person you ever did security for?”

  “I can’t tell you her name, it’s all confidential.” He looked around dramatically like he was making sure no one was listening, then said in a conspiratorial tone, “What I can tell you is she’s pretty famous for her…assets. My partner and I had to charge her double for protecting it—I meant them—if you know what I mean.”

  Jill laughed. The sound loosened Cole’s muscles. Focus, Cole, he told himself. Relax. Enjoy the company of a woman for who she is, not how she makes you feel. He took another cookie and bit into it.

  “What made you want to go into the security business?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “We live in LA. It’s a hotbed of celebrities and big shots, right? A friend who I’ve known forever agreed it could probably turn into a lucrative business, and it has. In fact, business is so good we’re going to open an office in San Francisco.”

  “Oh, that’s right. You mentioned moving north earlier.”

  “That’s the plan. At least, until the business is established.”

  She nodded and sipped her water.

  Cole watched her face. Was he imagining things, or did it seem to bother her that he’d be leaving LA? They barely knew each other, so that didn’t make sense. Neither did his own reaction to the idea he might not see her again.

  Fuck. Why was he pretending he didn’t want to see her again, when all he wanted was to take her, caress her, touch and tease and tempt her? Maybe there was a reason she was here. Maybe they were supposed to have more than one night together.

  Maybe.

  His body ached with want, overriding coherent thought. He reached out and touched her face. For a few moments, she stared at him, her eyes darkening. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and she whispered, “Cole,” her voice unsteady.

  He said nothing, ju
st closed the space between them, and covered her mouth with his. He put his hands on either side of her face. Their lips brushed back and forth lightly in a whisper-soft kiss before he pressed harder and opened her with his tongue.

  “Mmm…” she moaned softly through the kiss.

  She tasted fresh and sweet, and he relished the heat spreading in the pit of his belly. He slid his hand down the side of her face to her neck then over her shoulder and down her arm. He felt goose bumps rising on her silky skin.

  “Wait. Stop.” She breathlessly pushed him back.

  Cole was breathless, too. Breathless and confused. Why had she stopped him?

  “I can’t do this.” She shot to her feet.

  Cole stood up, too. “Okay, that’s okay. Can I ask why?”

  “I just can’t, I’m sorry. I’m really attracted to you, Cole. Obviously. But you’re going through so much right now. If I had known that last night, I never would have….”

  “You never would have what? Taken advantage of me? Because I have to tell you, I wouldn’t mind you taking advantage of me again.”

  “We’re neighbors now,” she said.

  “Not for long.”

  “That’s right. You’re going to pack everything up and move to San Francisco. Are you going to sell the house I’m living in, too?” Her eyes brimmed with worry.

  The abrupt turn in the conversation threw Cole. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t considered how selling the rental house would affect her. But he was planning on selling the house—both houses—and investing the money into the expansion of Frontline. That meant Jill would have to find someplace else to run her daycare.

  An unwelcome suspicion swept through him. Again, he considered her change of heart by coming over.

  Was the possibility he was going to sell the house the real reason she was here? Had she come over to try and talk him out of selling? The idea that she’d been motivated by her own agenda rather than any genuine desire to be with him made him flinch. And say incredibly stupid things.