Hard to Get (Killer of Kings Book 4)
Sam Crescent & Stacey Espino
Chapter One
Riley carried the small bag of garbage to the curb and tossed it in the metal can. Just like clockwork, her neighbor, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Mysterious, did the same. She waved to him, and, as usual, he ignored her and walked back along the path to his house.
What an asshole, she thought. A fucking sexy asshole, but still.
She’d bought the tiny bungalow almost a year and a half ago, thanks to a government subsidy program and a shitload of bank loans. Her other neighbors seemed friendly enough—it was the suburbs after all. It was just him. She knew absolutely nothing about her next-door neighbor, not even a name. None of her attempts at making contact had any success, but at least it wasn’t just her. The man was reclusive, choosing to keep to himself, avoiding just about everyone.
Riley had conjured up all kinds of exciting scenarios in her head. A few months ago, she’d convinced herself he was running an illegal drug lab. She’d crept along the bushes after he left one day and peeked in a crack of the curtains through the front window. It was disappointing to find a very normal looking living room, one she’d expect to see on the cover of a boring home and garden magazine. So, she was back to square one, wondering who the mysterious man really was.
She returned to the house to collect her purse and car keys, and then made the drive to work. It was only fifteen minutes away in a small outdoor plaza. Riley had put absolutely everything—blood, sweat, tears, and her last penny—into starting up her own bakery. It was a small half-unit, and she couldn’t afford any staff yet, but it was hers. She’d stop at nothing to make it a success.
“Morning, Riley.”
She waved to Janet, one of the insurance agents who worked a couple doors down. Riley knew most of the people in the plaza, from owners to staff, but she wouldn’t call any of them close friends. She preferred her privacy, and she’d been fiercely independent since she could remember. It was too much risk to invest in people who would inevitably let her down, not unlike her own mother and just about every guy she’d ever dated. Her best bet was to focus on herself, her bakery, and the fact she didn’t need another person to make her feel whole.
After she unlocked the glass door and flipped the closed sign to open, she turned on the lights and made her way behind the counter. Today, she had a wedding cake to prepare, two birthday cakes, and she had to start her usual offerings of bread, buns, and cookies. She loved baking and creating something from simple ingredients. It was her personal escape, her therapy. If she was upset, she could lose herself in the process; if she was angry, she could beat the dough. Mostly, baking made her happy, giving her purpose in an otherwise fucked up life.
“Hey,” said Janet, slipping in the front door.
“What’s up?”
“Did you hear they rented out the corner unit?”
The largest unit in the plaza had been vacant for over six months. Since it was supposed to be the anchor store for their plaza, everyone was anxious for it to get a tenant. “Really? By who?”
She rolled her eyes. “A bar. Can you believe it?”
Riley shrugged. “A lot of plazas have bars.”
“Yeah, but they’re busy after hours, when we’re both closed. I can’t see how it’ll be a benefit.”
“Nothing we can do about it.” She washed her hands and then began reaching for her mixing bowls on the higher shelves. “I’m used to relying on myself, anyway.”
She’d never gotten any breaks in her life, so she wasn’t going to count on any now. Yes, she prayed for business to pick up, but she wasn’t going to hold her breath.
“I can see that. I can’t believe you run this place all by yourself.” Janet absently flipped through the cake book on the counter.
“Well, I’m not exactly busy enough to hire help. Even if I was, I couldn’t afford it.”
Janet looked at her watch. “I better go. I have a client coming in ten minutes.”
Once Riley was alone, she lost herself in her work, the scent of flour and cinnamon calming her nerves. As much as she chose not to dwell on it, the bottom line was always in the back of her mind. If her store went out of business, she would lose everything, including her house. She’d be able to get another job, but that wouldn’t change the fact she owed the bank a small fortune.
She was used to surviving, but it wasn’t easy with one fickle income. All her neighbors were married, many with children—except her next-door neighbor. She’d never seen a woman come or go, no visitors either. Now that her thoughts drifted to her mystery man, her anxiety eased and her body heated up. How could he have such an effect on her, especially when they hadn’t shared two words?
Her childhood obsession with Nancy Drew books fueled her curiosity. He was a mystery she wanted to unravel. Was he an accountant? A secret agent? The guy was tall and always wore layers of black, even in the heat. Maybe a bodyguard?
She chuckled to herself as she put the first dough ball into a greased pan. Reading made life tolerable and her fictional love life more exciting. If only the heroes in her romance novels were real. Even if they were, they always went for the picture-perfect damsels in distress, and Riley had never been a beauty pageant contender—and she didn’t need to be saved.
The door bells chimed as two women came into her shop mid conversation. She recognized them from her neighborhood.