The Boy Next Door

by Amy Knupp

• ISBN13: 9780373714025
• ISBN10: 0373714025
• Format: Paperback
• Copyright: 2007-02-13
• Publisher: Harlequin

Summary

Rundles and Salingers don't mix. Not since the tragic accident involving Zach Rundle's brother and Lindsey Salinger's mother. But when the well-being of Zach's five-year-old nephew is at stake, Zach and Lindsey are dragged together again.At first Zach thinks the social worker is stirring up the old feud. But he soon realizes that's the last thing on her mind. Before long, the attraction they'd felt twelve years ago returns, too. Could a child's needs bring them together? More important--would it help keep them together?

Excerpts

Lindsey Salinger frequently found herself doing the ill-advised, all in the name of helping someone in need. Like now. The ill-advised was jogging"fast" when she hadn't exercised for a while. Okay, a long while. The someone in need was her dad. She had to check on him, see for herself he was following doctor's orders and doing what he was supposed to: staying horizontal. His live-in housekeeper, Mrs. Hale, had been with him all day, but she'd had to leave for a meeting. This would be a lot simpler if Lindsey's 1996 Civic hadn't quit on the way home from work. Since she'd already been running late and her roommate, Brooke, wasn't home, she'd decided jogging was the quickest way to get there. If she didn't die first. Three houses down from her dad's, she allowed herself to slow to a brisk walk. She sucked in the chilled air in an attempt to dull the pain in her lungs. As she blew out, a sound from the evergreen bushes bordering the sidewalk stopped her. Was that a child's whimper? She strained to hear, wondering if her ears were playing tricks on her. But no, she heard a shaky intake of breath from the same direction. Faint, but unquestionable. Lindsey looked at her dad's house, searching for a sign that he needed her immediately, but of course, there was none. No movement, no noise, only a dim light on inside. She crouched to scan under the low-hanging branches and thought she spotted something on the far side. Creeping forward, she saw two small feet in grungy once-white socks. "Who's there?" No reply. Lindsey ducked her head and pushed her way through the branches. Her hands sank in the cold dirt, and pine needles stuck to her clothes. Once she reached the trunk, there was a little more clearance, and she sat up as much as she could. She shoved her ball cap back to find herself face-to-face with a boy who couldn't be much more than five or six years old. "Hi," Lindsey said, smiling to ease his fright. "It's okay. I'm one of the good guys." He sized her up for several seconds, and she wondered if he'd try to run off. There was no quick escape route, so she doubted she'd lose him. The boy's dark hair was disheveled, and he wore only a long-sleeved shirt, jeans and socks. Not nearly enough for February in Kansas"it couldn't be more than forty degrees out here. He clung to a branch near his head with one hand and grasped a small toy truck in his other. "My name's Lindsey. What's yours?" He sucked in his lower lip and let out a wail. "Come here, sweetie." She held him while he sobbed into her shoulder. Why was this little guy outside by himself? He grabbed her upper arm with his free hand, squeezing tightly. Lindsey rubbed the back of his head with a gentle, circular motion. She'd have to take him with her to make sure her dad wasn't curled up with a bag of chocolate chip cookies or something else off-limits. "Shh. It'll be okay." The boy's sobs gradually slowed, and he let go of her arm. He rubbed his eyes with one hand but still held the yellow cement mixer as if his life depended on it. "What's your name, sweetie?" He didn't respond; instead, he turned and scooted several inches away. "Are you lost?" She reached across and rumpled his hair. "Tell you what. Let's get you inside and warmed up. You like hot chocolate?" He shrugged. "I bet you do. With mountains of whipped cream on top." She saw a flicker of interest in his eyes. "Then you can tell me your name and where you belong." Please, let him open up.She didn't want to call the police. They'd just rattle him further. "Come with me." They crawled out from under the branches. Lindsey brushed dirt and twigs off her own pants, then the boy's. She held out her hand. He hesitated, then took it, and Lindsey frowned at how cold his fingers were. The spicy aroma of burning cedar wood nearby hovered in the breeze and Lin