character. She would want guarantees and that was one thing he'd never been able to give anyone.
Three days later, he stood outside washing his car. The white finish gleamed in the bright morning sunlight. He moved slowly, his brain and body not working well together after pulling a sixteen-hour shift. His replacement had gotten food poisoning, so Kyle had volunteered to stay through the night. He fought back a yawn. It didn't used to bother him, but since hitting thirty, he hadn't been able to pull all-nighters with the same ease. The worst part about the double shift was relaxing enough to sleep when he got home. Usually his mind was cranking along at fifty miles an hour, while his body was so tired he could sleep standing up. He'd learned that performing an undemanding physical chore allowed him to unwind so that he could get to sleep.
He tossed the soapy sponge back in the bucket, then reached for the hose. He turned the nozzle, adjusting the spray to a light mist, when he heard voices behind him. A quick glance told him Lindsay, Blake and Nichole were walking down the driveway. Kyle continued rinsing his car.
He hadn't seen his neighbors since they'd first arrived. He'd been working a lot and generally trying to stay away. Sandy had made her feelings clear. If she didn't want his help, far be it from him to impose. But he'd thought about her a great deal. And when she'd left after that first day of cleaning, he'd gone by the house to make sure the doors and windows were locked.
'Hi, Kyle,' Lindsay said when the kids reached the split in the driveway that led to his garage. 'That's a cool car.'
He glanced at the Camaro. 'Thanks. How's the house-cleaning coming?'
Lindsay wrinkled her nose. 'Mom's driving us crazy.'
'Mommy's blowing her mission,' Nichole said and smiled at him. 'She said a bad word, too.'
'Her mission?'
'Children,' Lindsay said, then patted Nichole on the head. 'You'll have to forgive her. She's very young.'
Kyle thought about pointing out that Lindsay wasn't that old herself, but he didn't want to hurt her feelings. 'What does she mean?'
'The moving company left a message that they would be late delivering the furniture. The truck blew its transmission.' She moved closer to him and lowered her voice. 'Mom called them and said she was going to blow more than a transmission if they didn't get our stuff up here.' She glanced at him and swept her lashes up and down several times. 'So we're stuck.'
'When do they think the truck's going to arrive?'
'In another three or four days. I don't think it matters that much. The house is still a mess. We're not getting a lot done.'
'I am,' Nichole said. 'I've got three stars.' She held up the right number of fingers. 'When I get five stars, I get to buy a new book.'
'Stars?' he asked, confused.
'One of Mom's attempts to keep us as organized as she is,' Lindsay said. 'She's got a chart up on the wall. Everyone has chores listed. When you complete a certain number of chores, you get a star. After so many stars, you get a reward.'
'What's your reward?' he asked Blake.
The boy looked up, obviously startled that he'd been noticed. Light brown eyes peered at him through thick glasses. Except for the freckles across his nose and the shape of his mouth, Blake didn't look anything like his mother. His slight shoulders hunched forward. 'I haven't picked one yet.'
'Oh, he'll get another game for his silly computer. He sits in front of it all the time.'
Blake glared at his older sister, but didn't defend himself.
'What about you?' he asked Lindsay, then wished he hadn't. She moved even closer and stared up at him intently.
'I want clothes. Something pretty.'
'Uh-huh. That sounds, uh, nice.' He cleared his throat.
If his brothers could see him now, they'd all roar with laughter. Any of them could handle a flirtatious woman with no problem. But a vamping preteen was out of his realm of expertise. He wished Sandy would show up.
'So you guys are having trouble with the house?' he asked.
Lindsay rolled her eyes. Nichole giggled, and even Blake nodded.
'It's too big,' Nichole said. 'I washed the kitchen cupboards forever and they're still not done.'
'We haven't even started on the upstairs,' Lindsay said. 'Mom wants us to get the painting done, too. She's crazy. This isn't how I planned to spend my summer.'
'I know it's hard,' Kyle said. 'But your mom really needs your help. This is hard for her, too. Moving to a strange town, and all.'
'No one asked her to drag us to this dumpy place.' Lindsay's brown eyes snapped with anger. Her posing was forgotten as she drew her eyebrows together and glared. 'There's nothing to do. There are no kids around here, no beach, nothing. I hate it. I don't care if the house never gets finished.'
'Glenwood isn't so bad,' he said. 'There's a mall on the other side of town.'
'Wow,' Lindsay said sarcastically. 'A mall. Gee, now I love it here.'
Nichole skipped over the hose and motioned for him to bend over. 'Lindsay's being a brat,' she whispered loudly. 'Mommy says it's just a stage.'
He crouched down and smiled at the child. She had curly red hair, but her mother's beautiful green eyes. 'You're a pretty little girl.'
Nichole dimpled. 'I know. Mommy told me.'
Kyle grinned.
'There you are,' a voice said. 'I'd wondered where you'd run off to. I told you not to bother Mr. Haynes.' Sandy stood at the end of his driveway. Like her children she was wearing shorts and a T-shirt. Unlike his noncommittal response to their clothes, he found her outfit intriguing. Her red shorts exposed long tanned legs. Her round hips drew his eye toward her waist, then up to her breasts. She wasn't overly curvy, she was… just right.
He stood up slowly. 'I'd rather they call me Kyle, and they weren't bothering me. I heard about the truck.'
She wouldn't-or couldn't-meet his gaze. 'Yes, well, I just got off the phone with the moving company. The truck will be here Monday for sure.'
'But it's Friday,' he said. 'What will you do until then?'
'Stay at the motel where we've been staying. The kids don't mind. It has a pool.'
'By the time we get back there, we're too tired to go swimming,' Lindsay grumbled.
Her mother shot her a warning look. 'The extra time will give us a chance to finish the house.'
Lindsay groaned.
'How's that coming?'
She stared at his car, then at the ground, finally her gaze landed on his knees and settled there. Kyle wanted to believe she was having trouble looking at him because he was wearing cutoffs and nothing else. He wanted to believe the sight of his bare chest and legs left her speechless. He wanted to believe he would one day win the California lottery. Right now they seemed equally likely.
'Fine,' Sandy said shortly. 'Just fine. We're cleaning and soon we'll start painting.'
'We're never going to finish,' Lindsay said.
'Nonsense. I've come up with a new plan. It will allow us to work more efficiently.'
'Mo-om.' Lindsay planted her hands on her hips. At that moment, she looked exactly like her mother. 'We're kids, not slaves.'
'And just an hour ago, you were trying to convince me you're all grown up. You'll have to pick one, Lindsay, you can't have it both ways.'
Kyle opened his mouth to offer his help, then thought better of it. He didn't want to give Sandy another chance to shoot him down.
Sandy glanced at his car, then at him. 'We'd better let you get back to work. Have fun. Come along, children.'
She took Nichole's hand and started down the driveway. Lindsay followed slowly. Only Blake hesitated. He stared at the car for a moment.
'Do you like Camaros?' Kyle asked, suddenly curious about the quietest member of the Walker family.
Blake nodded. 'Does it go fast?'
